We Are Women, Hear Us Roar

Should there be any doubt now that women can handle presidential debates, as well as men?  That they can conduct a live television event that lasts for 90 minutes before an audience of 60 million viewers?  That they can be smart, bold and professional in dealing with the men who would be president and vice president of this great nation?

No.  There should be no doubt at all.  CNN’s Candy Crowley and ABC’s Martha Raddatz have finally banished that old false notion that “men are better” to the R-I-P grave it deserves.

Of course, after former PBS anchor Jim Lehrer lost control of the first presidential debate in Denver, Raddatz and Crowleywere masterful in comparison.  Lehrer, the journalist who was moderating his 12th presidential debate, at times threw up his hands in exasperation as President Obama–but mostly Governor Mitt Romney–ignored the guidelines on time limits for statements and rebuttals.  The testy rivals literally wrested the debate away from Lehrer and he was pretty much reduced to the role of a potted plant.

Raddatz then moderated the vice presidential debate where she had been forewarned that Vice President Joe Biden might engage in some “funny stuff.”  Biden found Paul Ryan funny and he found himself funny, but under the firm hand of Raddatz, both men did as they were directed.  The vice presidential debate was not only enlightening but also enjoyable.

Poor Candy Crowley.  She had to moderate the second debate in the town hall format, which became the most contentious presidential matchup in recent memory.  There she was with a nervous audience of 80 undecided voters and two men who can’t stand each other.  Obama and Romney could not be more different: in family history, socioeconomic upbringing, political ideology, social status, and of course, color.  The only thing they have in common is Harvard Law School and nice families.

Obama blew the first debate by appearing disengaged and bored with the whole process. Romney, with an energetic and aggressive style won the debate “by a mile.”

The President was determined to change the public’s perception of him by changing his style, his answers, and his enthusiasm for the second debate.  Romney was ready for the Obama makeover.  Candy Crowley was ready for both of them.

I wouldn’t have traded places with her for anything.  The candidates entered the arena; yes that’s what the debate floor became.  The two men were already seething despite the plastered smiles and phony handshake.

This was supposed to be a debate dominated by questions from the undecided voters, but it quickly deteriorated into something that looked like a cockfight.

Throughout the debate Candy was juggling so many balls in the air:  listening to the producer in her ear; calling on audience members; watching the time; asking follow up questions; paying attention to the candidates’ answers; deciding who had the next question or rebuttal.

She was doing all this with an up-close and too personal display of male bravado.  I was waiting for one of the candidates to beat his chest or jump on the other’s back.  It was that nasty.

Candy, with the utmost politeness, struggled to remain in control despite being insulted by Governor Romney.  Did she retreat like a shy violet or burst into tears?  Not her.  She prevailed.

Candy raised two sons.  I have to believe that she harkened back to those days when her boys misbehaved and she had to discipline them.  Now before her eyes were the President of theUnited Statesand the former Governor of Massachusetts circling each other defiantly like naughty boys.  She finally said, with all the power she could muster in her voice, “Mr. Romney, sit down.”  And he did.

In 2016, the Commission on Presidential Debates should not hesitate to seek out women to be moderators. Candy Crowley and Martha Raddatz have proved that the best women can stand on equal footing with the best men.  Thank you, ladies.

Sexploitation of the News

I can’t swear to the veracity of this incident but the faculty believes it happened.  As the story goes, one of the journalism graduates from my college applied for a job at a small television station.  The executive interviewing her asked if she had ever considered getting breast implants.  He reportedly asked that question?  Outrageous.  Here’s why he dared be so stupid.

Sex sells.  Advertisers have known that for decades and have been using sexually provocative images to sell everything from cars to vacuum cleaners.  Today, television bosses are trying to use sex to sell the news.

At my first broadcast job, a Top 40 radio station in Chicago, “Trooper 36-24-36” delivered the traffic reports during morning drive time.   Were those her measurements?  Not by a long shot.  But she was attractive and had a sexy voice.  I’m sure the men listening enjoyed hearing about traffic tie-ups from what they imagined to be a bombshell.

But that was just the traffic.  In later years, shapely weather girls turned up on local TV stations.  They were young, mostly blonde, and wore revealing clothes.  But that was just the weather.  The sexy weathergirls went out of style when real meteorologists or funny forecasters were must-haves for local stations.  Of course, they were men.

When women, like me, began to get hired for reporting and anchoring jobs, we were delivering hard news.  We believed we had to present ourselves more like male anchors if we were to be taken seriously.  We had an unofficial fashion code:  professional, yet feminine.  Suits were the uniform and we would never draw attention to our femaleness.  We didn’t wear anything that would distract viewers from listening to what we were reporting.  Hairdos were helmet-like with nary a hair out of place.  Make-up was simple and used primarily to conceal skin flaws.

But, my, my, my, how things have changed.

Have you noticed lately how women newscasters dress, especially on the cable news channels?  Do they look like news anchors or Miss Americas?  What’s with the sleeveless clothes, the low cut necklines, the tight sweaters and pants?  Local female anchors now move around their news sets, teetering on 6-inch heels with nearly thigh high skirts.

Their hair is long, voluminous, and those who are blonde often get that color out of a bottle.

The make-up looks like it’s been applied with a palette brush.  Brows are plucked to new heights. Eyes are coated with shadows and liners making them dark and smoky. The cheeks are rosy, and the lips glossy.  All dolled up to deliver the hard news: the hurricanes, the crime, the budget crisis, and the presidential campaign.

You may think I am just talking about women, but men are also striking sexy poses.  You can tell they work out.  Many appear in the field in short sleeve shirts with biceps bulging.  They also stand wide-legged or have one foot propped up on a boulder or piece of equipment.

At least news executives are giving us equal opportunity sexploitation.  Both men and women are losing substance to style.

Since everything seems to be ratings driven, news executives apparently decided they, too, would sell news with sex.  Ouch.  But are the viewers listening to what’s going on in the world or admiring the beauties displayed on the screens before them?  I don’t think the stations care.

Too many young journalists today are more focused on their bodies than their reporting and they will do almost anything to be ON TV.

Why I blog

As if there weren’t enough blogs, why would I add my words, my thoughts, and my opinions to the millions already floating through cyberspace?  Well, because I find I have so darned much to say about everything. And what better way to find an audience than a website?

After working as a broadcast journalist for four decades, traveling to 65 countries on five continents and to 48 of the 50 states, and covering many of the major news events since 1965, I measure today’s news against my own vast historical perspective.  I see lessons that were not learned; mistakes repeated; lies retold; the failings and triumphs of the high and mighty and the low and feisty.

Thirty-two years of my broadcast life were spent in Washington, DC, where I covered presidents, members of Congress and the Senate, Cabinet heads, and federal agency directors.  But I also covered the “least of them:” the poverty-stricken; the drug addicts, the victims of domestic violence; the gang bangers; and the sick and homeless.

While I spent my professional career as a journalist I am so much more than that.  I am a woman, a wife, a mother and grandmother, an African American, a voter, a taxpayer, a homeowner, a consumer, a professor, a Bostonian, and a life-long learner.  My students have dragged me kicking and screaming to Facebook and Twitter, and the latest alternative music and poetry. They seem determined to keep me up with them.

On this website you will find blog posts providing my take on many of the events of the day.  I will be tipping lightly into this “brave new world” until I find my voice and learn how to use it in the most effective manner.  I invite you to sample my thoughts and kindly ask for a little patience…please?