Story by Hannah Sawyer ‘27

This year’s yearbook production started just as my two previous ones had, but this time, I was Editor-in-Chief. I was in charge of overseeing every story and photo assignment, the 130 staffers on the yearbook, and reviewing every spread. We were behind schedule as we entered our usual scramble around late March and the beginning of April. We still had most of the book to design, and my co-EIC and I were finishing our story spreads. The theme of our book was “What are You Working On,” and each spread focused on a word that students and staff were working on. These words connected to themes of legacy, innovation, and expectations for the future.  

One spread, titled “Expression,” featured multiple stories, including one about a transgender female student. We received her consent to include her chosen name next to her quote. During the final verification process, our source editors reached out to the school’s guidance counselors to verify the accuracy of each student’s name. This fact-checking process was necessary to make sure the index was accurate and that every student was portrayed as they identified at school. 

However, while we were moving forward with the production of the book, questions about our name verification process reached the desks of school district lawyers. One day during our yearbook class, our advisor pulled my co-EIC and me into her office to explain we had received a directive that we weren’t allowed to publish any student’s chosen name. Instead,we had to refer to each student by their legal name. For us, this meant altering our entire name-verification process and changing names for transgender students and those who used nicknames.

According to the administration, under Illinois law, they were able to do this, as the yearbook is classified as a school record. We felt that this directive was a violation of our student press rights, so we decided to keep working on the book and began exploring legal options.

For hours on end, my co and I sat behind the closed door of our advisors’ office, making phone calls to lawyers and student press freedom advocates, inquiring what could be done to help our case. Accurate representation of our student body was our primary focus, and giving in to their directive was something we knew violated our rights as student journalists and infringed upon our fellow students’ right to expression. 

Under the Illinois Free Voices Law, which protects the rights of student journalists, students are granted the ability to make editorial choices in regard to what is published, which includes how names are presented. We emailed multiple school board members and spent late nights continuing to work on the book under constant fear of further action from the administration. 

In April of 2023, our yearbook editorial board attended the National High School Scholastic Journalism Conference in San Francisco. While most of our fellow editors attended sessions on graphic design and journalistic writing, my co and I were in the lobby of our hotel, meeting with a representative from the Student Press Law Center. That weekend, we were awarded a national Pacemaker, the highest award in high school journalism, for our work on the prior year’s yearbook. 

A few days later, when I was walking into class, the principal’s assistant announced to the entire hallway that I needed to follow her to the principal's office. I knew I was about to be confronted by her without  my advisor or co to support me. She proceeded to interrogate me about our name verification process, and why we were fighting the administration on this, and she kept driving her point about the yearbook being a school record. I explained that we were protected under the Illinois New Voices Law.

Eventually, the school administration backed down and told us we could continue to publish using students’ chosen or preferred names and the layout was published in the final book. The layout was published in the final book. It's easy to think that something like this was an isolated incident, but for many student journalists, the fear of intimidation or censorship is an everyday experience. 

I never thought of censorship being a thing that would happen in a blue state, much less Chicago, but the effects of censorship are being felt across the nation. According to the Student Press Law Center, in Florida, education officials are shutting down student newspapers and yearbooks featuring LGBTQ+ students. Attacks on journalists impair the right to free expression. Many people see journalists in a negative light, but they do a lot of work behind the scenes that isn't always visible.

Working in student journalism is a time to explore the stories and narratives of others while simultaneously growing your writing and reporting skills. But more importantly, it's an opportunity to uplift marginalized voices and bring previously unheard stories to light, especially in a day and age where these voices are often silenced. Throughout my three years in high school journalism, I talked to students I would have never met otherwise, but I also became more aware of the legal obstacles that many journalists face. As a result, I want to become a lawyer specializing in first amendment constitutional law and hope to reduce the legal loopholes that journalists face. In my current and future journalistic work, I’m working to keep the importance of equitable and inclusive journalism in the forefront of my mind. Doing high school journalism has been one of the most formative experiences in my life, and I will forever recommend it to people who hope to make a difference.