“Hey, kids, I hope you don’t mind if I film our sessions.”
Not only is he going to teach us—he’s going to make us stars! We all sit a little taller in our seats, waiting for our close-ups.
“First of all,” he begins, “I’m Tom. But Mr. Demitri INSISTS you guys call me Mr. Ennis, so we’ll have to go with that.”
He’s wearing the skinniest jeans I’ve ever seen with a beat-up pair of Chuck Taylors. His hair is to his shoulders, with half of it pulled back in a small bun, held up by the band of his camera. His T-shirt is faded and says HAIRY MASTODON, which I’m guessing is a band. Given how larger-than-life he looks in his videos, I can’t believe how normal he seems in person.
Mr. Ennis hands out sheets of paper for us to distribute. “These are release forms. If you don’t sign them, you can’t take the class.”
I’m not sure what a release form is but I’ve watched enough TV to know you’re not supposed to sign anything without reading it first. It hardly matters because there’s no way I’m NOT taking this class. But leave it to Maria to raise her hand and ask Mr. Ennis to explain.
“Signing a release means you give me permission to use video footage of you however I please,” he answers.
Of COURSE I’m taking this class, but now I’m as confused as Maria is.
“So if I sign this,” I ask, “you can take the footage you’re shooting now, add a few filters, and turn me into an orangutan with bananas sticking out of my ears?”
“If I want to, yes.” Mr. Ennis takes out his cell and rapidly starts typing. “I’m writing that down. I love orangutans.”
Matt turns and gives me a thumbs-up like I’m the class genius but I’m just secretly hoping our new teacher doesn’t turn me into a cyber-primate for his own amusement.
Mr. Ennis doesn’t write on the whiteboard like a normal teacher. He’s sitting cross-legged on the desk to face us instead. “The first thing you need to know about being a youtuber is that it’s a full-time job, even when it’s a part-time job. There are a million clips uploaded every single minute of every single day, and if you want your show to stand out, you need to be thinking about your show 24/7.” He looks at us and grins. “So … you think you’re up for it?”
The answer from the class is a resounding YES.
“Good.” He pulls a stick of gum out of his pocket. I get excited to see what kind of trick he might do with it, but he just shoves it into his mouth. It’s still cool, and in all my years of school, I can’t recall ever seeing a teacher chew gum in class.
As Mr. Ennis continues to talk about “creative content,” I catch myself focusing more on his headcam than his words. If Ms. McCoddle or any of my other teachers wore one of these, I’d be more distracted than usual and would NEVER retain anything they said.
We spend the rest of the class watching online videos, which is AMAZING. Mr. Ennis said he had to run clips by Mr. Demetri first to make sure they were appropriate to show in school so of course we beg him to show us the ones that Demetri didn’t allow. I can tell that Mr. Ennis WANTS to show us but also wants to keep his job. Instead, he shows us a video of a girl instructing viewers how to blow-dry their hair like a movie star while her little brother pretends to be a zombie attacking her from behind.
“That’s the mystery,” he says. “Does the girl not know her brother’s making fun of her or is she in on the joke and asked him to do it? There’s no way for us to know—and that’s half the fun.”
I slowly turn to Matt, who’s grinning as mischievously as I am. Neither of us needs to speak because we’re both thinking the same thing:
We’re starting our own YouTube channel!
EUREKA!
Even before Mr. Ennis’s class, I was incubating ideas for a YouTube show.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Matt says as we grab a table in the cafeteria a few days later. “It sounds great, but having our own show is probably a ton of work.”
“A lot of fun too. I’m with Derek on this.” Umberto reaches across the table and gives me a fist bump.
As usual, Carly is the most practical of the four of us. “I’m sure your teacher could point us to a good online tutorial. I think the four of us could create a GREAT YouTube channel.” She offers us some macaroons from her bag. (Carly thankfully always brings enough dessert for all of us.)
I hate to bring up a sore spot while we’re eating her food, but I ask Carly how the four of us are going to create a YouTube channel when Matt and I are the only ones taking the class.
She seems surprised; Umberto does too. “I just assumed since you guys were lucky enough to get in that you’d share the information with us.”
Umberto then nods, looking as expectant as Carly is. I turn to Matt, who plays with the cookie crumbs instead of helping me out.
“Of course we will,” I finally answer. I reach for another cookie and wait for the awkward moment to pass. Matt finally jumps in.
“We could do a Let’s Play channel,” he says. “If that’s not too complicated.”
“You forget I’ve been taking computer classes for years,” Umberto says. “I know how to do all KINDS of things, including an LP channel.”
And just like that, lunchtime turns into a production meeting. Matt still thinks we should do a video game walk-through show, Umberto wants us to do challenges like eating handfuls of
