According to National Public Radio, only one in 10 public radio listeners makes a contribution to his or her local station. I am one of the nine who doesn't — and yes, I feel the guilt. But lack of funds leads me to donate my time instead. I'm a longtime volunteer, and during pledge drives I perform a mundane but vital task: I answer phones. Earlier this month, I did just that at WUSF (89.7 FM), the NPR outlet at the University of South Florida.
I arrive for my tour of duty the day before the anticipated conclusion of the station's fall pledge drive and take my place (and headset) at a table with several aged PCs. Classical music is playing in the background. I recognize Bob Seymour's booming voice as he goes on mic. I am by far the youngest person in the room by at least 10 years, which is not unlike most of my experiences as a volunteer at WMNF. (The median age of an NPR listener is 51; for MNF, it's 48.) Several other people are poised attentively at the phones, which ring only occasionally.
Luckily I've brought the latest issue of CL with me. Normally I never have the time to read it in its entirety, but I get through almost the whole thing (even "Bar Tab") before getting my first call shortly before All Things Considered begins at 4 p.m.
I first discovered NPR about five years ago. I was fresh out of college with an undergrad degree in media studies and desperate for a job in my field. But, after two internships in commercial radio, I knew the mainstream wasn't the route for me.
I ended up in Seattle working a shitty corporate job anyway (though non-media related) and one day heard intelligent talk coming from KUOW, the local NPR affiliate. It made me feel blissfully plugged into the world at large.
A few years later, I found myself in Tampa and knew to immediately tune my radio to the left. I found 89.7 and then, surprisingly, something else a little further left. My first taste of Community Radio 88.5 WMNF was a show called Two Worlds that played Native American music, from traditional flutes to hip-hop and pop. The diversity! The information! I sent volunteer coordinator Carrie Core an enthusiastic e-mail the next morning and she called me within 15 minutes.
I've been volunteering with WMNF now for two years. In that time I've tried everything from outreach to an occasional co-host spot to reporting for the evening news and finally getting my own early morning show. All very energizing for a multimedia neophyte.
But the most excitement occurs twice a year when all normal activity ceases and the station managers, along with scores of volunteers, jump onto each other's shows to help "pitch."
WUSF Development Director Cathy Coccia says the budget for both TV and FM for the 2007 fiscal year was approximately $8,500,000. Revenue sources include the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, USF, federal and state grants, as well as WUSF members and WUSF underwriting, which accounts for over 50 percent.
WMNF Business Manager Mercedes Skelton says that her station's revenue also comes from myriad sources, but the bulk of funding comes directly from the pockets of listeners. Accordingly, WMNF's pledge goals were larger than WUSF's. Whereas WUSF successfully raised $375,000 and $400,000 in its two most recent drives, WMNF's 2007 FY budget of $1,649,000 was dependent on $460,000 to be raised during its spring and fall drives. The spring fundraiser missed its goal by $50,000; the recently completed fall drive, though an improvement, was still $18,000 below goal. Skelton says that unless the shortfall is accounted for, "We will find a way to trim this year's budget, which means some of the projects we wanted to go forward with will have to wait."
Two hours into my shift at WUSF, I've pulled in a total of $350 with just two phone calls. (The average gift given to WUSF in the 2007 fiscal year was $124. For WMNF, it was $61.) I learn that the volunteer next to me, Adrienne Clover, is a flutist for the all-volunteer Tampa Bay Symphony. She works in mutual funds by day and wishes she had more time to practice her flute. (The symphony practices just once a week.) Clover says that she and several other members of the nonprofit Tampa Bay Symphony signed up to answer phones so they could get their organization's name mentioned on the air. "It's an alternative way to get the name out there and get new contributors — to make sure the orchestra stays alive — and classical music, for that matter," she says.
The callers are both timid and righteous in their efforts to give money to what they deem a great cause. At the end of each call, I ask if the listener has a favorite show or a comment to make, and it never fails: Politely, they begin, "No, but …" then go on to tell the various reasons their world would be lost if not for WUSF. It makes me want to call in and give up money I don't have.
In a little over four hours, I've collected $800 in pledges, listened to the news, shared the CL crossword puzzle and seen one of my favorite organizations from the inside out. Now if I can only find a way to break my daily latte habit, maybe next time around I'll actually be able to shell out.
This article appears in Oct 24-30, 2007.