We were recently interviewed by JD, the host of the Seen and Heard show on Danvers Community Access Television. He’s an amazing dude and the studio is an awesome place. The longer we go down the tubes, the more we are overwhelmed by the astounding things people in the Disabled Community are doing. Though we’re the largest minority population in the world, we’re the same like a chihuahua is the same as a St. Bernard. Sure they’re both dogs but that’s where the similarities end. And so it’s great to be able to collaborate with others in our community to highlight how we’re different…yet still rightly part of the same community.
We wanted to share our thoughts about being on the other side of the interview. In a turn of events that will surprise absolutely no one, we had different feelings!
Julie‘s Thoughts
I knew I wanted to be a teacher since I was in Kindergarten, but my dream career has always been to be on television as a talk show host. I have been curious about everyone that crosses my path since I was a small child. All of my life, my energy radiates my nosiness, and I have heard countless unprompted life stories, anecdotes, and dark secrets from complete strangers.
And I love it.
I grew up during the golden age of the “talk show host” – Phil Donahue, Sally Jesse Raphael, Geraldo Rivera, Jerry Springer and the often imitated, never replicated, Oprah Winfrey. I longed to grab Phil’s microphone and run around the audience, eliciting responses from those lucky enough to attend a live taping. At one time, I had red glasses like Ms. Raphael and the urge to uncover the treasures hidden in Al Capone’s tomb with Mr. Rivera has long been a bucket list item – right up there with being able to yell, “You’re NOT the father!” a la Mr. Springer. (I have a slightly trashy side that likes to come out every now and again, I own it.). And of course – Ms. Winfrey – what I wouldn’t give to have my very own worldwide “book club”, be able to give opportunities to others that need a little extra boost, or take on notable figures and ask those blunt, hard hitting questions.
I tucked my dreams of a black and white set with hot pink chairs to the side, content with my chosen career in education, which satisfied my desire to talk for a living. Then along came Brad and the opportunity to live out – on an incredibly small scale – my true passion of being a talk show host through our weekly YouTube series, “Hearing Things with Julie and Brad”.
I revel in the process of planning, briefly jotting down notes, fluffing my hair and dissolving into giggles once Brad hits record. I spring to life inside and out as I state the opening words “Welcome back to Hearing Things with Julie and Brad…”. Those stolen moments on the other end of a laptop are fulfilling in a way that teaching cannot ever satisfy. My comfort level on the other side of a camera is nearly impossible to put into words – the closest I can come is that I feel more alive than I ever have in this lifetime when we are, as they say in the business, “rolling”.
We were invited to be guests on the show Seen and Heard, hosted by JD, on Danvers Community Access Television a few weeks back. I was initially ecstatic at the possibility then a tad apprehensive, but with the dawn of a new school year approaching, I had plenty to keep my mind occupied.
As the date approached, I had little butterfly flutters of nervous anticipation, with two primary thoughts: 1. What am I going to wear? and 2. Please do not let it be humid because my hair will curl! I tried to not think too deeply about flubbing my responses or not being able to hear JD when he asked us questions. I ultimately pushed any doubts to the side, determined to plow forward into this new adventure with my trademark enthusiasm and sheer nerve. Besides, I had Brad by my side for this experience – as extroverted as I am, I knew I could not be so brave alone.
The afternoon arrived, we journeyed up the highway, and scarfed down our afternoon snacks. Our ride together was more subdued than normal. I tend to keep up a near constant chatter filling Brad in on everything from silly stories to serious topics to shouting out random ideas for our content creation. This time, we were much quieter, deep in our own preparation for this unfamiliar situation. Fortunately, we are comfortable in each other’s silence, which allowed time and space for quiet reflection.
The little fluttery butterflies returned as we entered the building, but once my feet hit the studio floor, the bright lights that switched on above may well have been the parting of the heavens and the singing of the angels. I bit back the urge to toss out the famous line from the musical “Funny Girl” – “Hello, gorgeous!” and definitely swallowed my temptation to shout, “Mr. DeMille -I am ready for my closeup!” a la “Sunset Boulevard”. And, in a final act of extraordinary self control, I stifled my impulses to prevent the spilling outward of my own personal vocal performance and accompanying dance number of “One” from “A Chorus Line”.
To put it simply, I had arrived.
I glided to the set, clipped on my lapel mic, and eagerly anticipated the start of the interview. JD was an incredible host, with the natural ability to put people right at ease. He has a warm, open, and communicative interview style – treating it as a casual conversation between friends. The cameras faded away instantly, and I enjoyed every second of responding to unique, thoughtful, and insightful questions.
I have been asked questions about my hearing loss all of my life, but JD went beyond the basics and really challenged me to think about things in a different way. For example, he asked if I heard him or if I was using lip reading or context clues – I had never thought about it before – and questioned how much of my “hearing” is actually the physical act, and how much is the snapping together of learned strategies to make sense of the world around me. The answers, for me, flowed freely with minimal hesitancy.
I did experience moments where I reminded myself that I did not need to control the interview as I am so used to being on the “other side” of the conversation in this type of setting. I gently nudged myself to pull back and let others lead, a skill that has been in my personal practice repertoire for all of my life. I observed JD’s natural approach and appreciated his ability to really listen to our responses and ask follow-up questions. Our time together flew by too quickly, and I could have easily gone on for several more hours – it was that comfortable, seamless, and interesting.
I was so focused on enjoying each moment as it unfurled, that I had no idea what was happening to Brad who was seated on my left. The way that we were positioned, I couldn’t see him as he was angled slightly behind me in an armchair all his own. Normally, when we record together, we are seated next to each other and can see ourselves on the laptop screen. This close proximity increases our ability to interact with one another and gauge the other person’s energy. This time was very different, and I felt a little unmoored without the visual and physical presence that I am used to having with me for both reassurance and entertainment purposes. I had a moment or two where I wanted to turn my head and check on him, but we were directed to face JD and be filmed from the side as opposed to directly in front of the camera. I did turn in his direction to hear him and acknowledge him as he responded to questions, but it felt so formal and polite – completely the opposite of our normal interactions both on and off camera. That part was a little jarring for me, and it made me realize that while I exude confidence I really do need him to do this with me, not just next to me.
For me, it was the experience of a lifetime, getting to live out my glittery television dreams, however small the stage. I loved every second of it – and was tickled pink when JD shared that we were “naturals” on camera.
On our way back to the car, I once again had to remain in control of myself because I was on the cusp of singlehandedly acting out every scene from “A Star is Born” (the Barbara Streisand version, obviously) – because on that afternoon, l was a star!
Brad‘s Thoughts
I still get nervous when I hit Start Streaming on OBS to start HTwJaB.
Every.
Single.
Time.
Even when it’s just Julie and me.
I’m super self-conscious about how I look and sound on screen. (I’ve got a cape and everything.) Part of it’s an introvert thing and part of it’s a result of stuff I’m not going to get into right now. It doesn’t matter that I trust Julie unequivocally. I’m just uncomfortable on camera. And when I entered the Danvers studio that uncomfortableness got a shot of “B12”.
The heavens may have opened to angels singing for Julie. But for me? I had to stop myself from wishing the ground would split and Beazlebub would pull me under. Ok, I exaggerate. But only just. This wasn’t even my first time being interviewed.
A few years back, I helped a doctor recruit high school volunteers to caption her cable access show on disabilities. This was before AI captioning really took off and she wanted a show on disabilities to be, y’know, accessible. Then she asked me to be a guest star. So I did. I remembered that when I walked into the Danvers studio and thought it would ease the anxiety. And it did. To a degree. But I don’t think I’ll ever be entirely comfortable in front of a camera. There’s just too many things to be anxious about.
I was anxious about looking and sounding stupid. I was anxious because there were not one, but two, huge cameras. There was even a new anxiety: I was anxious about not being able to control the questions. Since I’ve been interviewing some fantastic folks with Julie over the last year and a half, I’ve gotten used to being one of the ones in charge of the interview. But this time, I couldn’t lean on a set of questions that Julie and I created to steady my shaky knees. (Mercifully, we were seated!) Though the anxiety would never completely go away, JD, his wife, and the DATV tech, Greg, did a marvelous job putting me at ease. After some trouble with numbers.
Julie and I took our seats and put on our lavalier mics. JD was breaking things down for us, telling us what he had planned. Soon, as usually happens during the pre-show talk, we all got quiet for a moment.
Then JD started counting.
I had no idea what was going on. Until he told me they were doing a mic check. I immediately got anxious about something else. Greg was in the booth behind us. I couldn’t see him. So how would I know when to stop my own count?
Turn around. Duh.
Which is exactly what I did. But I instinctively get anxious when I need to talk to someone behind me. I rely so much on speech reading that my mind immediately goes to the worst case scenario when someone is behind me. But I needn’t have worried. Everything went off without a hitch. And then it was time to get on with the show.
JD’s speech was easy on me. He spoke slowly, and loudly, without being insultingly slow or exaggeratingly loud. He enunciated well, too. I didn’t catch every word, I hardly ever do, but I had no problems picking up what he was putting down. His was an easy flow from question to question. I don’t know if he had things planned or if he just winged it. No matter what, though, his interview style did wonders to ease my anxiety. Until I was introduced to another one.
The longer the interview went on the more at ease I became. Until my energy started flagging. Whether it was due to introversion or deafness, I was starting to get weary. I can’t pinpoint a question or a time that started me on the tired track, all I know is that suddenly I realized I was having a harder time actively listening and cobbling together decent answers.
I’m always acutely aware of my speech. At the start, I would be yelling at myself to slow down. When I get going on something I’m passionate about, I tend to talk faster. I know that’s due to having always hung around with talkative extroverts. I’ve fostered the habit of hitting the conversational ground running because someone finally took a breath and I have the chance to speak. I’ve also had to contend with being cut off a myriad of times. So that adds emphasis to my need to speak quickly to get my point across. I know how hard it is for me to understand a fast-talker, so since I’ve started my advocacy work, I’m trying to slow the h-e-double-hockey-sticks down. This interview was no different. Until I got tired.
When I got tired, I had to fumble around my poor little brain for the answers to the questions. I don’t know if it was all in my head or not, but there were a couple of times that a pause stretched to the horizon as I searched for the right word, gave up, and just said a word. The Fates were kind, though. It wasn’t too much longer before the show came to an end.
The glut of anxiety aside, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. JD is doing some amazing work, and I’ll be forever grateful to my fellow librarian, Christi, for putting us in touch.
Light shines on us all.
Some bask, some shrink, under it.
Work with what you’ve got.
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