Marshall Ramsey

No matter where you go, you’ll find a little piece of Mississippi.

Last week, I had the honor of attending the 2019 Tennessee Governor’s Arts Awards to celebrate my mentor Charlie Daniel’s receiving a Distinguished Artist Award. Charlie, the editorial cartoonist in Knoxville, Tennessee for 60 years, was the first cartoonist to ever received the award. As we sat in the Governor’s Mansion’s auditorium, my heart swelled with pride as a man I deeply respect was given the respect he deeply deserves. To tell you how prestigious the award was, a couple of the other recipients of it are names you might recognize — Brenda Lee and Little Richard.

There was another winner you might not immediately recognize and her name is Sally Wells.

Sally is one of the 2019 Folklife Heritage Award recipients. To quote the program, she’s “revered elder in Tennessee’s Choctaw community and is a master of several endangered Tennessee art forms.” She’s a bead worker, dressmaker, traditional cook and speaker of the Choctaw language. Sally was also raised here in Mississippi on the Mississippi Band of Choctaw Indian Reservation. She spent her childhood in the Bogue Chitto community.

She’s, as they say, from around here.

At the end of the evening, I ran into Sally as we headed to the elevator. I introduced myself, congratulated her and used these magic words — “I’m from Mississippi.”

I instantly had a new friend. She beamed and we started talking about her time on the reservation and how she had invited the chief but he could not come due to a conflict. So I said, “Well, I am going to brag on you on the radio. You deserve it.”

So here you go.

I’m proud of Sally and enjoyed getting to briefly talk to her. Her talent is impressive. And even though she now lives in Tennessee, I’m proud to claim her as one of our own.

Last Saturday, we lost a friend many of us have never met. Mike Sands, the Fox 40 anchor and cancer warrior, succumbed to the disease. He had fought a brave and public battle against a monster that left his body in incredible pain.

He is free of that pain now.

He was 34.

Mike was diagnosed with cancer in 2012. That’s when he found a lump in his calf that turned out to be a rare and aggressive form of soft tissue cancer, called myxoid liposarcoma. After it briefly went into remission, it came back with a vengeance in 2016, as it began attacking various parts of his body.

That’s when Mike Sands went to battle.

He came on the show in 2017. Other than him losing his hair, you couldn’t tell he had the disease at all — Mike looked like he could crush me with his thumb. I kept thinking, “There is no way cancer will beat this man. He’s too strong mentally and physically.” His positivity and heart filled this studio. His smile was infectious. His attitude was inspiring — I was ready to take on the world after spending an hour with him. To quote his Fox co-host and close friend Melissa Faith Payne, “When you watch him in this battle, you can’t help but fall in line and figure out what you can do to help.”

That was the effect Mike had on everyone he met.

TV personalities are like family. We invite them into our homes and feel like we know them. Most of the time, that’s not necessarily true. They deliver the news while hiding their personal lives behind perfect hair, perfect teeth and perfect smiles. Mike, however was very open about his battle. He was brutally real. We all pulled for him as we heard about his treatments. We prayed for him as he flew back home for more and more surgeries. We felt his pain, his hope and his will. We knew that if anyone could beat this cancer, it would be Mike Sands.

We became members of #TeamSands and prayed for a miracle.

Mike never got that miracle.

On April 12, he got the news he didn’t want to hear. According to the doctors it was time to stop fighting and start looking at quality of life.

“No chemo is working,” he told the Clarion Ledger in an interview. Hearing six months, he said, emotionally, “I’m not ready to go in six months.” He kept fighting.

He made it seven months.

Twelve days ago, we got this message from him: This vile, menacing, plays-by-its-own-rules disease has literally taken my legs out from under me. Roughly a week after back surgery last month, I began experiencing weakness in both legs. Within days, I couldn’t even use a walker to get around. My legs are incapable now of bearing any weight. I’m largely bedridden, and I need a wheelchair to get anywhere.

We could feel our collective hearts sink.

He finished by saying, ” I should be in Jackson cutting it up with Melissa as the city’s favorite anchor tandem five nights a week. I should be showering my daughter with the love only a father can give. Instead, I lie here dealing with this harsh and cruel fate, incapable of doing either.”

Less than two weeks later, he passed away with those who loved him by his side.

Not only was Mike a friend and inspiration to many, he was also the father of his young daughter Briar. I hope someday she understands how brave and strong her father was. I hope those who love her can lift her up as she grows up without her dad.

I’m for a loss of words right now. Mike lived every cancer patient’s worst nightmare. But he lived it with strength and grace. The key word being this: Lived.

So if you want to truly honor him, live like Mike. That’s Mike Sands’ legacy. He lived every moment he was alive.

Bless him and all who loved him.

An ad for the Marine Corps Marathon just popped up in my feed and I had to smile. I consider that race, which I ran to raise money for the Melanoma Research Foundation in 2010, as the starting point of a new life for me.

Let me explain.

The race itself was amazing. I ran the race (slowly), raised $13,000 dollars to help fight melanoma and stumbled across the finish line with the worst leg cramps I had ever had. I ran the last six miles of the race like that and never thought about quitting. Little did I know that it would be a metaphor for the days to come.

When we got home, our dog had died at the vet and I was called into our editor’s office and made part-time. That started another marathon that has lasted nine years.
Someday I will write about the whole experience, name names and give credit to those who changed my life. But not today. All I know as I sat in that office, I knew that as badly as what had just happened hurt, it would also be the best thing that ever happened to me.

And it has been.

Has it been easy? No. I still struggle from time to time. But I know that any struggle can be overcome with hustle. And I have tried to keep working really hard. Have I made mistakes? Hell yes. My attitude has not always been as good as it should be and I haven’t focused on what I’m supposed to be doing. It’s really easy to fall into a pity party when you are tired and frustrated. Self doubt still occasionally creeps into my head late at night.
But I have learned this about myself — if you don’t believe in me, I will prove you wrong. I might have temporary setbacks but I will not fail. My parents’ illness and death, which you probably have read about, kicked my ass hard. It set off my fight-or-flight mode (which I’ve had for a long time) and pushed me into a dark place. I just now feel like I am starting to crawl out of that hole. If you’ve experienced complicated grief, you know what I am talking about.

Four nine years, I have had angels who have protected this fool. In the next few weeks, I am going to write each of them and thank them for how they saved me from myself. It has been hard on my wife and family, too — but even though I have not been easy to live with, they stuck with me.

When dad taught me to grab the ski-rope so I could change my story to “how I got back up” not “how I fell down” after a nasty fall, he taught me a skill that got me through cancer, my profession imploding and the challenges left behind by both. He taught me to use my creativity to change my story. Nine years into the marathon, I’m about to change my story again.

I will finish the race strong.

To those who believe in me, thank you. To those who don’t, you are fuel. God and my family are good. I know I am a blessed man.

Now if you will excuse me, I have some work to do.

P.S. The reason I still am going is that I have been blessed to live in a community who reached out and believed in me and my work. In 2007, I chose not to move to Tulsa because I sensed something bad was on the horizon and I knew that I would be OK in Mississippi. I was right and I thank YOU for reading my work and supporting me.

A few years ago, our neighborhood switched to decorative mailboxes. Originally, we had plain black mailboxes, which were durable but not super attractive. The new ones? They were purty. Real purty. They were/are also super fragile. I’m on my second one (one of my neighbor’s friends accidentally bumped it with her car and it shattered like glass.) Our mail carrier shoves in mail (which is her job), but that has broken the clasp that holds the door shut. Most days, I use a rubber band. On rainy days, our mail gets soaked because it holds water like a reservoir.

My uncle gave my dad a mailbox as a wedding present. It was a plain box with his name (David L. Ramsey) on the top. That mailbox followed my parents around the country and was their mailbox until he moved out of the house for the nursing home (my mother unceremoniously replaced it). It served our family nearly 60 years.

I love our current mailbox — it is a good looking mailbox after all. And having them all match in the neighborhood is a good thing. But dad’s solid, less flashy version performed better over the long run.

There’s a life lesson there somewhere I think.

I stumbled upon the online resumé of a person who died a couple of years ago. On paper, this person looked amazing. I knew her well enough to know that some of the things were exaggerations but for the most part, most of her written achievements were accurate. She had had a good career with lots of professional acclaim. She put on a good front and many people thought highly of her. I also know she was cruel to her husband and kids and died miserable and alone. As I read over the words on a screen, I thought how they told a certain truth but didn’t cover the whole truth. She had worked so hard to craft a story in her life yet the only way she will be remembered will be through the stories and memories of those she hurt.

Life is funny like that.

I looked at my own resume and it’s pretty good. I’ve had a lot of achievements and blessings along the way in my career. But then I thought about what story my wife and kids would tell about me if I were to die today. I think I’d be OK. But I am sure it could be better. I realized that is my true permanent record: Creating good stories for my family to tell is where I need to put my efforts. That involves, time, caring, love and effort.

My work is cut out for me.

We are two generations from disappearing totally from this earth. For example, my kids never really knew my grandparents. When I die, their memory will fade from my family. But how they lived their lives has permeated my parents and then me. They live on through my stories and who I am on a daily basis.

How we engage and change the lives of the people we know and live for the better. That’s a true legacy — not something that’s put down on paper.

Journalism 361: Editorial Cartooning

Fall 2019

3 Credit Hours

Monday 4–6:30 p.m.

Instructor: Marshall Ramsey, Editor-At-Large for Mississippi and Syndicated Cartoonist

Contact information: mramsey@mississippitoday.org

Course Description: 

Two-time Pulitzer Finalist Editorial Cartoonist Marshall Ramsey introduces students to the issues and newsmakers behind the cartoons and what elements make up a good cartoon. Students will be required to draw an editorial cartoon each week and defend the idea behind it. Class will consist of a lecture based on required reading, discussion and time to brainstorm a cartoon idea based on the news of the week and a talk with a newsmaker and or working visual artist. Students will create a portfolio of 13 editorial cartoons that will be graded weekly based on strength of the idea (not on the political stance, but how effective it is at making its point) and artistic ability. Cartoon ideas approved in each class are due the following Monday’s class. There will be no late cartoons accepted — deadlines in the real world aren’t forgiving and students have to learn deadline discipline. There will be a 100-point final based on class lectures, readings and guest lectures. Take good notes! Also there will be a five-page term paper due the last regular day of class pertaining the past, present and future of editorial cartooning and visual commentary that is worth 200 points. 

Required Texts:

No texts required. All readings will be either handed out or found online at marshallramsey.com 

Each student will be given a copy of Marshall Ramsey’s 20th Anniversary book Drawing the Line.

Supplies:

Two pads of 11×14 Bristol board

Kneaded Eraser

Pencil

Black pens of your choosing. 

Pack of 8 1/2 x 11 copy paper (for creating rough drafts).

We will also touch on other mediums and methods for creating visual commentary, but for simplicity’s sake, we’ll start off with pen & ink cartoons. 

Student Learning Outcomes:

By the end of this class, you should:

• Know the history of editorial cartooning and its current and future challenges.
• Have an understanding of what makes up a strong editorial cartoon.
• Know how the dark history of editorial cartoons and how they have been used for negative purposes in the past. 
• Understand how to defend your idea to an editor
• Have developed deadline discipline. 
• Understand how to create a simple business plan and how to market your work using social media and other platforms. 
• Be able to create an effective editorial cartoon. 
• Be able to engage a newsmaker and ask thoughtful and relevant questions. 

Exams and Assignments (1000 pt. Total)

Thirteen cartoons — one per class. 50 pts. each. 650 pts.

Midterm (based on readings and lectures) 50 pts. 

Final (based on readings and lectures) 50 pts. 

Five-page term paper (written in Microsoft Word) 150 pts. 

Calendar

August 26: Introduction and a brief history. Two ideas due by end of class.

September 2: Labor Day — No class

September 9: More history — the good bad and the ugly. Two finished cartoons due at beginning of class. One idea due by end of class. 

September 16: Plagiarism — avoiding the temptation.

One finished cartoon due at beginning of class. One idea due by end of class.

September 23: What makes a good cartoon? One finished cartoon due at beginning of class. One idea due by end of class. 

September 30: Midterm Exam. One finished cartoon due at beginning of class. One idea due by end of class.

October 7: Don’t get sued — Legal landmines. One finished cartoon due at beginning of class. One idea due by end of class.

October 14: Marketing and Branding 101 One finished cartoon due at beginning of class. One idea due by end of class.

October 21: Marketing and Branding 101 continued. One finished cartoon due at beginning of class. One idea due by end of class.

October 28: Researching a good idea. One finished cartoon due at beginning of class. One idea due by end of class.

November 4:   Developing your style. One finished cartoon due at beginning of class. One idea due by end of class.

November 11: Dealing with editors and other things. One finished cartoon due at beginning of class. One idea due by end of class. 

November 18: The Future of visual commentary. One finished cartoon due at beginning of class. One idea due by end of class.

November 25: THANKSGIVING!

December 2: Wrapping it all up. Portfolio Review. Term Paper Due. One finished cartoon due at beginning of class. 

December 9: Final! 

Attendance Policy: 

Since this is a once-a-week-class, I expect you to be in class. The whole class. You will have your grade lowered after three unexcused absences. If you do miss a class, I expect the work to be made up (the one time I will accept late work). 

Deductions will begin after your 3rd absence. Four days missed —  final course grade dropped one letter grade. Five days missed —  final course grade dropped two letter grades Six days missed —  final course grade dropped 3 letter grades. And seven days missed. You fail the class Exceptions are for school-sponsored events (band, sports, journalism trips, etc) with official paperwork or an email from advisors/professors. No need to show doctor excuses or funeral programs, etc. Basically, you have three absences without a penalty and this includes illnesses. But I still expect you to produce a cartoon. If you have hospitalization that requires more time than allotted for absences, talk with me to see if special accommodations can be made or if you will be able to make up the work. You will interact with you classmates and some will have different opinions. That’s OK. You will survive. I don’t care if you agree with me but I want you to back up what you believe. 

Notifications of Changes: 

The instructor will make every effort to follow the guidelines of this syllabus as listed; however, the instructor reserves the right to amend this document as the need arises. In such instances. The instructor will notify students in class and/or via email and will endeavor to provide reasonable time for students to adjust to any changes. 

Term Paper: 

Five pages on the history, present and future of editorial cartooning and visual commentary. APA-style for sourcing. If you don’t know APA style, I’ll point you in the right direction to learn. Format: 12-pt., double spaced, Times-New Roman font, one-inch margins.

Statement on Academic Misconduct: 

ALL WORK – cartoons and the term paper – everything – must be newly created work for this class. Plagiarism is a serious offense and will not be tolerated. In the publishing industry, it will destroy your career. Don’t start now. 

Standards of Honesty

The university is conducted on a basis of common honesty. Dishonesty, cheating, or plagiarism, or knowingly furnishing false information to the university are regarded as particularly serious offenses. Disruptive behavior in an academic situation or purposely harming academic facilities also are grounds for academic discipline.

Disciplinary Procedures

In the College of Liberal Arts and in the Schools of Accountancy, Applied Sciences, Business Administration, Education, and Journalism, faculty members handle cases of academic dishonesty in their classes by recommending an appropriate sanction after discussion with the student. Possible sanctions include: failure on the work in question, retake of an examination, extra work, grade reduction or failure in the course, disciplinary probation, or suspension or expulsion from the university. An appeals process is available to the student. A more complete statement concerning definitions, offenses, penalties, and grievance procedures may be found in the UM Policy Directory.

Policy on  Missed Exams and Course Work. 

The instructor will not excuse late assignments for routine reasons — medical appointments, work or campus obligations. Deadlines in the publishing business are not forgiving. Be proactive if something is on your schedule and turn the work in early. I will not accept cartoons late however, if there is an emergency (death in the family, accident, severe illness requiring doctor’s care), I will take those situations into consideration on a case-by-case basis. The midterm and final exam must be taken on the date of class. If there is a foreseen conflict or emergency, I will work with you by a case-by-case basis.  Term paper will be docked 5 pts. Per day it is late. 

Students with Disabilities 

It is the University policy to provide, on a flexible and individual basis, reasonable accommodations to students who have disabilities that may affect their ability to participate in course activities or meet course requirements. Students with disabilities, which have been verified through the Office of Student Disability Services, should feel free to meet with me to discuss specific needs and how can address them. You are required to turn in disability paperwork within the first two weeks of class. 

Last evening, I stood on the slight hill overlooking the Mississippi Sound and the Pass Christian Marina.

The setting sun painted the horizon a light orange as a slight breeze blew the smell of fried seafood across the road. I looked out at the marina, the restaurant and the scarred oak trees. I had stood on this spot soon after Katrina and wondered if the Pass would come back.

It has.

Pass Christian has always been a special place to me.
In 2005, Robert St. John and I did a book signing at Pass Christian Books. This was a couple of weeks before the Katrina throat-punched the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Robert was driving, I was riding and together we drove through neighborhoods full of beautiful homes that were shaded by the huge live oaks. It was one of those beautiful moments that just burned into my memory.

Of course, in a couple of weeks, it WAS a memory.

After the storm, I worked in the area with Camp Coast Care, helping homeowners clean their lots and fix their roofs and then went down several more times as the area began to recover. The following year, I took our young sons to a rebuilt playground. Then I went to a book signing at the phoenix-like Pass Christian Books. Last night I made a quick trip down (over six hours round trip), I went down to speak to the library’s author series, One Book One Pass. To me Pass Christian, like the oak trees lining Highway 90, is a symbol of resilience.

I heard Jesse Winchester’s song “Down Around Biloxi” as I took a couple of pictures.

“Air is filled with vapors from the sea. Boy will dig a pool beside the ocean. He sees creatures from his dream underwater. And the sun will set from off towards New Orleans”

I paused, took another deep breath as I inhaled the smell of fried shrimp. I looked out at the tranquil Sound. Like a sleeping lion, I knew what it was capable of when angered. But tonight it was peaceful. Warm salt air wrapped around my tired shoulders like a warm blanket. One more breath and a look to the West — The sky began to dim as the sun slipped beneath the horizon. It was time to go in and get work.

Author Margaret McMullan and her husband Pat O’Conner rolled up on their bikes. Hugs and handshakes were exchanged — then the three of us headed into a room full of smiling faces for my talk.

Like the warm salt air, the friendship embraced me. I smiled and then got to work.