Story by Brit McGinnis

Illustration by Edwin Ouellette

Washington D.C. is the city of the determined. People walk with purpose, aren’t afraid to make eye contact, and suits are as common as museums. There is also an attitude of mixture, of unabashed mingling. German immigrants own pizza parlors, construction workers say hello to Congress members (and are greeted back), Greek tragedies are performed in different languages across the city at the same time.
In the cold of January, the entire city seemed to be milling together like a colony of ants. Lines upon lines of people moved to their destinations, appearing as different as can be from each other, unafraid to move very close together in order to shield themselves from the falling snow. I had come from Eugene, Oregon, to visit one of the loudest megaphones of the people: National Public Radio (NPR).
The company was holding an internship fair for anyone across the country who was interested in becoming an intern for them in the summer, fall, or spring. I was so excited, not only to meet people who knew the internship process intimately, but also to simply come to NPR. It is one of the great mother-ships of American radio. This one non-profit corporation reached 27.5 million listeners in 2008, and the audience is steadily growing in diversity. Call it elitist, conservative, or liberal—it doesn’t matter. NPR is a symbol of American culture that is truly too popular to go anywhere soon. This is the company I want to be an intern for, and so here I was to explore and learn.

Inside Headquarters

Like the city of Washington D.C., NPR is a company of mixture. The philosophy behind its exploratory, conversational tone is originally created from two that were already in existence: the BBC and Pacifica Radio. Public radio actually began in England during the 1920s, as a way to basically catch the masses up with what was happening in the “high brow” world of politics and classical music. Radio was seen as a means of mass communication and education, a tool to improve society in a top-down fashion. Those who were educated could speak to those who were not, for the betterment of the entire country.
Compare this to Pacifica Radio, born on the American West Coast. In 1946, sick of what they saw as the condescending tone of the BBC, these young radio workers set about making an outlet for people desiring to have respectful debates about the issues of the day. The mission of Pacifica was to be the mediator, the place for discussion between the haves and have-nots. At the home station in Berkeley, California (not that far from Culver City, where NPR West has its headquarters today), ethnic minorities and anti-war groups finally had a voice in radio. There were no distinctions between economic classes at Pacifica; everyone sought to learn from interaction with each other. So it was from these two conflicting ideological movements that NPR was born in 1971.
I knew from the beginning that this wasn’t a normal internship conference. Tours of the building were happening every half hour, so groups of eager NPR hopefuls signed up right away. We saw studios of immaculate sound, where even the breathing of the tour attendees was easily detectable. There was technology capable of causing eight people to sound like an entire studio audience. The cubicles of the news reporters were covered in fun toys (one All Things Considered cubicle had a collection of Gumby dolls) as well as news briefs. Overhead, televisions were constantly displaying the events occurring in Egypt.
No one was in a full business suit like how I had seen on the street of D.C.; instead, color was cherished and the dress code can be best described as “creative casual.” Even Scott Simon, an award-winning host of Weekend Edition who’s written for The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal, showed up to the fair in jeans and a checkered dress shirt.The joy of discovery was palpable throughout the entire building. Over and over, the heads of programs and hosts proclaimed, “We accept pitches, ideas, and input from our interns all the time.” Anyone who had something interesting to say was not ignored.
NPR fit the attitude of Washington D.C. perfectly. People of all races, backgrounds, and home were present at the internship fair. They all wanted to be a part of the environment, to be a part of the magic. We were a mixed crowd. There was the uptight law-internship-hopeful who carried a briefcase, the young teenager wearing a green slicker who spent forty minutes talking to the lady at the library desk, the public relations fans who made jokes about Sex and the City while waiting for the tour to commence. The hosts of various shows were unafraid to intermingle with us lowly interns, reflecting NPR’s larger culture of sharing and regular communication.
Weekend Edition, a news show that plays only Saturday and Sunday mornings, has an entire section called “Your Letters” where the concerns and comments of listeners are thoroughly discussed on the air. The NPR website has an extremely sophisticated feedback system, displaying how eager they all are to know what their listeners think. It’s surprising, considering NPR’s reach across the country. One doesn’t usually expect such a large company, media-driven or not, to be so incredibly attentive to their customers. It’s extremely jarring to call a number labeled “NPR Switchboard,” expecting to hear automated messages over and over, and instead having a real-life person say “NPR?”

The Radio of Tomorrow

Right now NPR’s future is tentative. The entire United States is waiting for a new budget, facing a total shutdown if Congress cannot agree on what the terms of that budget should be.  The current draft proposes cutting off federal funding from both NPR and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, the company that distributes money to PBS. The House Appropriations Committee in Congress appears to have no qualms about cutting off NPR’s $2.5 million slot in the federal budget, claiming that the company can do fine without it.
Indeed, NPR has evolved to be more and more independent of the government in terms of funding; this $2.5 million only accounts for ten percent of its entire annual budget. Private donors, fans of NPR programs who want to help contribute the rest of the money used for broadcasting, equipment, purchase of program for broadcast, salary for staff, and other needs of individual stations. But if this version of the budget passes, NPR would become an entity separate from the federal government.
NPR junkies like me are worried about the changes this might cause in the organization’s priorities, indeed its entire culture. Advertising would become more necessary to raise funds, and the yearly pledge drives would grow increasingly desperate as time went on. More emphasis might be placed on underwriting, the process where businesses sponsor part or all of a show’s broadcast in exchange for some on-air advertising. Would programs such as Culturetopia, a specialty show about issues and controversies in the world of art, even exist in a more profit-driven atmosphere? We fans still want NPR to remain not only a cutting-edge news source, but a forum that ensures that intellectual Americans with diverse interests will always find a program to listen to. The current two week budget planning extension will only delay the final vote regarding NPR. No resolution will come until the final budget is voted upon, whenever that may be.

The Best Prize of All

After five hours at the internship fair, both the NPR employees exhausted by the end and internship hopefuls.The heads of the departments began to pack up their equipment. The red, black, and blue balloons began to fall from the ceiling. We all said our goodbyes, and wished each other good luck. All of a sudden, the voice of the head of Human Resources announced that the final round of the raffle was taking place. These numbers had been announced every half hour, for the entire five-hour duration of the fair. Of course, all the internship hopefuls rooted around in their bags for the tickets we had been given upon entering the fair. We realized at that moment that we weren’t the only ones suddenly rifling through bags and purses.
The heads of the departments, maintenance workers, even the hosts of nationally acclaimed radio programs were suddenly clutching tickets. Michel Martin, host of the highly acclaimed radio show Tell Me More, leaned over to a woman who worked in Human Resources and said, “I’ve been here for a while—I want to win something!” I couldn’t help but laugh, and felt a rush of peace come over me. This event was the ultimate representation of NPR, people at every level of the chain of command hoping to find the same treasure. Whether it was the perfect two-minute clip for All Things Considered or a goody bag with an NPR t-shirt inside, the people drawn to NPR are those who seek things out. In a city of determined people, the folks who broadcast the news are the top of the heap.
Originally published on March 9, 2011.

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