The next time I’m asked to speak about my career to a university or college class, I’m going to say no. It’s not that I don’t want to help them, it’s that I don’t think that I can.
There are general things I can impart to students, such as, have a great attitude. Say “yes” when you’re asked to do something. Don’t be afraid to ask a question. Don’t complain. Expect criticism. Don’t expect to be given a lot of responsibility until you prove you can handle it. Expect to get sent for coffee at least once, so do it with a smile. Hang on to your ethics and be trustworthy. Don’t hurt anyone. Forgive mistakes because you’ll want people to forgive yours. Consume information; you can’t possibly know everything but you can at least learn a little bit about a lot of things.
But specifics about my career won’t apply to these young people heading into the workforce. At least, it doesn’t seem that way. I spoke to a Western journalism class last week and took them a cart – a cartridge. It used to be the standard in music and commericial recording for radio and now it’s a museum-quality relic. To the untrained eye, it looks like a see-through 8-track. It houses a continuous loop of tape that could be made – or “wound” to use the industry term – in virtually any length. They handed it around and examined it like it was a piece of rock from Mars, which it may as well have been. I felt like a broadcasting archaeologist with an ancient artifact, and found it really funny, although I didn’t laugh out loud.
The professors who ask me to speak always tell me how valuable my info was, but it always feels unsatisfying. The students ask questions and they (mostly) pay attention. I know I’ve had some amazing experiences but they are quaint now, in comparison to how media works today. I’m just being realistic. My best stories seem better told to my contemporaries in a “can you believe this happened to us?” kind of conversation. Get locked out of the studio while your show is live on the air? That’s not a big deal now. The computer will keep playing music and commercials. The lead singer of a Canadian band got stuck in my car? No one knows who they are now. The way we do things is changing all the time. What I can tell them about how I work now is going to be obselete by the time they get a job.
I suppose I just don’t have a big enough ego to get off on standing behind a podium and talking about myself for half an hour. There was another strong indicator that my radio experiences don’t translate well students of today. I asked the class of 30-plus how many of them listen to radio, knowing there would be few. Two hands went up. I probed further. The young man admitted he was forced to because, as a part-time contractor, he was subjected to the old boom-box owned by his supervisor. The young woman said she listened to satellite radio exclusively. Music only. No hosts and certainly no news. This doesn’t depress me. Things change and that’s just how it is. But it’s another indication that they simply can’t relate to my career. The next time I’m asked, I’m going to suggest the professor look for someone with a few years in, rather than me, who’s been at it since long before the students’ parents even met. I think it will have more value for the students and I’ll be better off getting my regular nap than trying to make my long career relevant for them.