Black Meetings and Tourism

Black Meetings & Tourism February/March 2009: www.blackmeetingsandtourism.com 54 F i f t e e n years later, and I still remember it like it was yesterday – my first job in radio news. I was assigned a rather routine story on a drive-by shooting incident in Los Angeles. Thankfully no one was hit by the fusillade of stray bullets flying about. I picked up the phone and interviewed the police, the victims and even snagged an interview with the family of the assailant, who actually wanted their loved one to pay for his crimes. I sat down to craft my big "45-second" story scheduled to air in less than an hour. Frenetic is the best word I can find to describe work at a 24-hour all news radio station. Writers are called upon to crank out stories faster than a tornado ripping through the Kansas countryside. I was given 30 minutes to complete my story, an eternity in radio news. In college I had a reputation for speed and accuracy. And since I was the anchor of the college radio station's newscast, I was writing for myself. But this assignment was different. This was my first pro- fessional gig and nothing gets on the air without passing through the eyes of an editor or producer. I passed my com- pleted story to the boss for review and edit. Her criticism was swift and cut like a hot knife in butter. Everything about my story was wrong – "poor grammar" she hollered, "you are writing for the ear not for print you moron (yes she actually called me that,) check your sentence structure." The entire newsroom staff listened as she spewed her cri- tique in my direction with the tone of a mother scolding a young child for putting a hand near a hot stove. I had already spent eight years in the military and was in my early thirties. My drill instructors couldn't compete with my boss. My ego was under serious assault, but I didn't have time to sulk – that would come later. I had just five minutes to pass her censor- ship and get the story on the air. She approved my rewrite without comment and two min- utes later my words were read to an audience of six million people. Relieved I had completed my first assignment I quickly tackled the next story. My boss, the editor devil, burrowed into my psyche for eight straight hours. As a child I preferred my Dad spank me rather than listen to one of his tirades – that's how I felt at this moment. Making matters worse, the anchors would call from the booth screaming at the poor written quality of the stories. Unbeknown to me at the time, they weren't com- plaining about my stories, but that of the other writers. I went home and had several drinks in an attempt to suppress my anger and disappointment. I had taken the boss lady's criticism personal. She had gone too far with the foul language and negative critique. This criticism lasted for weeks forcing me to contemplate quit- ting, but quitting is not part of my DNA. Two months later a miracle occurred. The critique of my writing ceased. My ego, by now in serious need of repair actually started to improve. Not only was the editor devil approving my stories on first draft, she would often have me deliver my stories to the anchor desk unedited. My boss and I had turned a corner. We reached an understanding without uttering a word. Had I improved or was she just tired of training wet- behind-the-ears college graduates? Was this her training method or was she just rude and obnoxious? Her profes- sional manner left a lot to be desired and I never forgave her for what she called me, but I had to move on for my own sanity. Here's another story from a meeting planner friend of mine. She has forbidden me from using her name for fear of losing a client she has had for over a decade. Her client was trying to drive up the cost on a particular con- vention she was charged with planning with a bunch of add-ons. My friend was already operating under thin profit margins and after a week of work trying to accommodate her client, she couldn't figure out how to make his request fit the budg- et parameters. She explained the situation to her client. The client's response could be heard from New York to Los Angeles without the aid of audio enhancement. Her first call after the shouting match was to me. I'm no Dr. Phil, but I got her to calm down. I suggested she take a few days away from this project, since the event was still sev- B Y M I C H A E L B E N N E T T By Michael Bennett

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