You don’t make a lot of money in journalism. That goes for public radio, too.
Anyone I’ve ever met working in either field is genuinely excited to be there, to tell stories, to be working their dream job. To meet someone bitching about their gig in this world is rare. And if you do meet the rare case, run.
While my bank account might ache and moan for more coin, there are perks to the job, like behind-the-scenes tours of museum exhibitions before they open to the public.
I once walked through the Henry Ford Museum’s Jim Henson exhibit with Bonnie Erickson, the designer behind Miss Piggy, as she told stories about her days working on The Muppet Show. I was meeting a childhood hero. I almost cried! I’ve toured Iceland with public radio listeners. I’ve flown the skies with the U.S. Navy Blue Angels. I raced around the old Grand Prix track on Belle Isle with Hélio Castroneves, one of the most accomplished race car drivers ever.
All of those experiences made me richer in ways that a bank account can’t measure.
Being in public radio also means I get invited to host events, meet people, and create things along the way. If you say your name on the radio enough, people start believing that you can do anything. If you’re smart, you start figuring out how to do anything.
This summer, I hosted the 56th annual Michigan Student Film Festival. Did you know it’s the oldest still-running fest of its kind in the country? Did you know it even existed? That’s OK — neither did I. But because I kept an open mind, I got a front-row seat to the creativity of student filmmakers from kindergarten all the way through high school.
The audience and I got to see what’s on their minds, what’s going on in their world, and — most importantly — the world our kids want to see in the future. The creativity and sense of humor floored me. And they weren’t doing it for money. They were doing it because they loved it and believed in creating something. That’s the type of education I can endorse. It looked a lot like my path to finding a creative outlet at a young age.
I’ve also been able to create things and give a platform to voices that I feel get overlooked or don’t get enough credit, like those of stand-up comedians.
Working for 101.9 WDET-FM has allowed me to create , a stand-up comedy showcase that has brought this part of performing arts to thousands of people over the past five years. I’m hosting the final one of the season on Thursday, Aug. 29, in the gorgeous backyard of The Old Miami dive bar. I hope you can make it out.
Stand-up comics don’t get a lot of respect compared with theater or opera performers or anyone else on a stage, but they share a lot of the same DNA. And it’s a hard road for a comedian. It’s tough to find audiences. It’s not like you’re up there with a band of other musicians. You’re up there by yourself. If the audience doesn’t like your act, that means they don’t like you.
And comics barely get paid. For the WDET comedy showcase, we pay them top dollar in the market. But that’s rare. Still, these comics keep going. They do open mics every night. They drive hundreds of miles for the next gig, knowing there’s not much else waiting there other than hopefully some patrons, some beer, and a little cash.
But it’s a creative pursuit they don’t want to give up. It’s an addiction to the arts. That’s something I can get behind. Their bank accounts look a lot like mine as we keep committing to doing what we love for a living.
At the end of the day, that was a lesson I had to learn. By doing what I love and being open to meeting others like me, I know that my time spent studying at the school of hard knocks was worth every penny that the pricey tuition cost me.
Ryan Patrick Hooper is the host of , Detroit’s NPR station (weekdays from noon to 3 p.m.).
This story originally appeared in the August 2024 issue of ϲͼ magazine. To read more, pick up a copy of ϲͼ at a local retail outlet. Our will be available on Aug. 6.
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