If Daily Bruin Radio were a country, it’d be the Ivory Coast and I’d be the president who’s having trouble letting go. On the other hand, if my director job were my boyfriend, I’d tell him that I love him and that he’s taught me so much, but that it’s time for me to spend my Monday, Tuesday and Thursday nights with other people. If this month were an episode of “This American Life,” Ira Glass would give it a sappy theme, and I’d whimper in the car on my way home.
All of this is mostly true. It’s as difficult to sum up my experiences as it was to imagine, as a very young 18-year-old, what the radio journalists advertised on the pink sandwich board on Bruin Walk actually did. The flier said “60 Minutes-style storytelling,” and I loved “60 Minutes.” It said I’d go backstage at Royce Hall to interview stars, and I thought that reporters who could do that must be the luckiest theater fans in the world.
Last year, I did go backstage at Royce Hall at an Ira Glass appearance, and I actually went on stage during his sound check to interview the demigod. In the newsroom, we pretend to be on first-name terms with him and that he’s a magical radio expert who teaches us about story structure and how to use music to make your audience cry.
In real life, “Ira” was funny and informative, and he humiliated me in front of a room full of reporters. I’d been too shy to bring my microphone close enough to his face, so he told the roaring crowd that the one thing he couldn’t stand was bad mic placement. He took the equipment from me and held it himself.
I learned, first of all, to not be so giddy about backstage celebrity interviews that I forget my microphone manners. But when the show began and the lights went out, it was like I’d never met Ira. I closed my eyes and imagined myself in the car, listening to stories, seeing, thinking, feeling.
The more I learned about radio, the more I dissected it. I wouldn’t be a journalist if I wasn’t interested in looking deeper, because a reporter’s job is to seek out how the world works and prompt other people to do the same. But really, when you get past the deadlines and the crashing computers and the minutiae of sound editing, you’re really supposed to let go and listen. Radio is nothing more than theater.
I’ve played my role at The Bruin as best as I could. I was a still-young 19-year-old when I started managing, and at 21, I still get excited that I’ve been allowed to sit at a conference room table and make decisions. Reporters have trusted me to edit their stories and help them grow as employees and people. My sources have told me about their parents, their childhood dreams, the things that embarrass them. I have been so lucky to have the opportunity to listen to so many stories, and it has been gratifying to have lessons to teach.
The secret behind those conversations is that I haven’t always known what to say. I haven’t always asked the right questions. But the best thing I’ve done these three years is embarrass myself and try.
The newsroom, you’ll be glad to know, is really nothing like the Ivory Coast. There’s no violence, except for perhaps a disgruntled reporter crying because the computers have broken again. Radio and I will hopefully love each other for a very long time. And when I next meet Ira Glass, I’ll know where to hold my mic.
For Daily Bruin Radio, I’m Sarah Rogozen.
Rogozen was Radio director from 2009-2011.