Generation PRX
Radio for the Chronically Quiet
Call it what you will—soft spoken, shy, introverted—most of the time I am quiet. Nonetheless, the radio project I worked with in high school reminded listeners at the end of every show to “speak up and make some noise.” This is a directive I take seriously and one I wish more people acted on because at the heart of my work and love for radio is the idea that people have stories and they deserve to be heard.
I was pretty convinced for a while though, that I simply had the wrong kind of personality to do radio. I was self-conscious about interviewing people, nervous about the way I sounded on air, and sometimes scared even to sit in my room alone and record myself. A lot of that anxiety has been overcome with time. After four or five years it doesn’t feel as weird to approach total strangers and ask them to talk to me, the sound of my own voice recorded and played back is no longer startling, and I can now stand comfortably on street corners chatting to myself via minidisc.
But I’ve also realized that while radio usually requires an extroverted dive into situations and conversation, which I’m still working on, it also requires an astonishing capacity to shut up and listen…and listen, and listen, and listen. A wildly healthy curiosity and a willingness to keep asking questions—at any volume—are more important than anything else. You can be quiet and bold. You can be shy and still make amazing radio. And sometimes what a piece needs is a good pregnant pause, sometimes silence is golden.
These are some things I keep in mind. Actually just two things. A very, very petite tutorial:
Investigate the quiet:
Doing this helps me listen and start thinking more critically about how to communicate stories and places using sound. Instead of nerve-racking, it can be really relaxing and doesn’t involve talking or interviewing.
Pick a quiet place, a place you normally associate with the absence of noise. Sit still, close your eyes, whatever, and just listen. Chances are there is actually quite a bit of noise in this place. There are tons of sounds we overlook, if you will.
Right now for instance, I am sitting in the periodical room of a library that is empty except for myself and one other person. It’s pretty damn quiet, as libraries are expected to be. Except for the buzzing of the light bulbs, the occasional rustle of newspaper, someone thumping up the stairs, a few creaky pipes, this faint rhythmic tapping I can’t quite place, a train in the distance.
Is there a story here? Maybe not, but at least I have a better sense of this room. I know what it looks like, what it smells like, and what it sounds like. So, should I ever decide to make a documentary about the periodical room I’ll be more than ready to fully transport my listeners there with the sounds of sighing couches, echoing footsteps, and antique heating systems.
Be unsettled:
The good radio pieces, good documentaries, and good works of art are often the ones that make us uncomfortable. If you’re shy or disinclined to interview strangers or jump into something totally unfamiliar, use your own discomfort as a starting place for bringing something unsettling to your piece. Talk to people who are different from you, people you might not normally talk to.
Alternatively, talking to people who are like you or exploring in depth communities you’re familiar with can uncover disquieting things you might normally not notice or ignore. When things are uncomfortable, ask yourself why. Examine your assumptions and your biases. Ask yourself the same hard questions you ask your interviewees.
Reflect, quietly, in the not-so-silent periodical room of the nearest library. Sit under your covers with a flashlight and a microphone at night and talk to yourself. Don’t be afraid to admit your nervousness, hesitation, and unanswered questions in your pieces. Those things can be really powerful and prompt listeners to do the same.
In conclusion:
Everyone works differently, obviously, and there is no set of hard and fast rules or recommendations that will turn you into a radio and podcasting genius overnight. Quashing the belief that you’re just not cut out for it however, that you’re not bold/loud/gregarious/talkative enough, is a good place to start. And it might take some time, but even the most stubbornly wallflowered can rock the airwaves.
P.S.
For a radio piece about very quiet teens, give Hillary Frank's piece "In a Bubble" a listen:
http://www.prx.org/pieces/3913
Or you can listen to one of the pieces I produced in high school that required me to ask myself some hard questions:
http://www.prx.org/pieces/16818
I was pretty convinced for a while though, that I simply had the wrong kind of personality to do radio. I was self-conscious about interviewing people, nervous about the way I sounded on air, and sometimes scared even to sit in my room alone and record myself. A lot of that anxiety has been overcome with time. After four or five years it doesn’t feel as weird to approach total strangers and ask them to talk to me, the sound of my own voice recorded and played back is no longer startling, and I can now stand comfortably on street corners chatting to myself via minidisc.
But I’ve also realized that while radio usually requires an extroverted dive into situations and conversation, which I’m still working on, it also requires an astonishing capacity to shut up and listen…and listen, and listen, and listen. A wildly healthy curiosity and a willingness to keep asking questions—at any volume—are more important than anything else. You can be quiet and bold. You can be shy and still make amazing radio. And sometimes what a piece needs is a good pregnant pause, sometimes silence is golden.
These are some things I keep in mind. Actually just two things. A very, very petite tutorial:
Investigate the quiet:
Doing this helps me listen and start thinking more critically about how to communicate stories and places using sound. Instead of nerve-racking, it can be really relaxing and doesn’t involve talking or interviewing.
Pick a quiet place, a place you normally associate with the absence of noise. Sit still, close your eyes, whatever, and just listen. Chances are there is actually quite a bit of noise in this place. There are tons of sounds we overlook, if you will.
Right now for instance, I am sitting in the periodical room of a library that is empty except for myself and one other person. It’s pretty damn quiet, as libraries are expected to be. Except for the buzzing of the light bulbs, the occasional rustle of newspaper, someone thumping up the stairs, a few creaky pipes, this faint rhythmic tapping I can’t quite place, a train in the distance.
Is there a story here? Maybe not, but at least I have a better sense of this room. I know what it looks like, what it smells like, and what it sounds like. So, should I ever decide to make a documentary about the periodical room I’ll be more than ready to fully transport my listeners there with the sounds of sighing couches, echoing footsteps, and antique heating systems.
Be unsettled:
The good radio pieces, good documentaries, and good works of art are often the ones that make us uncomfortable. If you’re shy or disinclined to interview strangers or jump into something totally unfamiliar, use your own discomfort as a starting place for bringing something unsettling to your piece. Talk to people who are different from you, people you might not normally talk to.
Alternatively, talking to people who are like you or exploring in depth communities you’re familiar with can uncover disquieting things you might normally not notice or ignore. When things are uncomfortable, ask yourself why. Examine your assumptions and your biases. Ask yourself the same hard questions you ask your interviewees.
Reflect, quietly, in the not-so-silent periodical room of the nearest library. Sit under your covers with a flashlight and a microphone at night and talk to yourself. Don’t be afraid to admit your nervousness, hesitation, and unanswered questions in your pieces. Those things can be really powerful and prompt listeners to do the same.
In conclusion:
Everyone works differently, obviously, and there is no set of hard and fast rules or recommendations that will turn you into a radio and podcasting genius overnight. Quashing the belief that you’re just not cut out for it however, that you’re not bold/loud/gregarious/talkative enough, is a good place to start. And it might take some time, but even the most stubbornly wallflowered can rock the airwaves.
P.S.
For a radio piece about very quiet teens, give Hillary Frank's piece "In a Bubble" a listen:
http://www.prx.org/pieces/3913
Or you can listen to one of the pieces I produced in high school that required me to ask myself some hard questions:
http://www.prx.org/pieces/16818
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