You know, for the most part being short does not bother me. At 4′ 10″ I am used to all of the short jokes and having to climb on counters to reach the stuff on the top shelf. I am long past being offended when someone tries to make fun of my lack of stature. It’s part of what makes me unique. But I will admit that there are times when it drives me absolutely bat-shit crazy . . . like today at work, for instance.
The morning show team record a video everyday that they upload to youtube and to the station website. In this video they promote the next day’s show and current station promotions. Every once in a while they pull me and the afternoon jock into their videos and it becomes a station-wide affair. Today was one of those days. In the video we were promoting a contest that we are currently running. Time is running out to get registered for the contest so we were trying to push people to log on to the station website to get registered. Each of the four of us had our parts. Mine was as the token short girl. That’s all . . . to just stand there and be adorably short. When you need somebody to just stand there and look cute a little person is a good pet to have.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I am not knocking anybody is shorter than average. Not at all. What I am saying is that sometimes at this station I feel like nothing more than a puppy . . . cute, little, something to look at and say “aww, look at how cute you are. Now go away.” What is my purpose here other than that?
I work my butt of every week. I struggle to prove that I am good at my job. Radio is still perceived as a male-dominated profession. Despite how talented females may be sometimes it still feels like we are only there to keep a station from sounding like a total a sausage-fest. When I was hired at this station I replaced a female. When I leave I can almost guarantee that they will replace me with a female. Why? Because there is a guy on the morning show and there is a guy on afternoons. All of that male monotony needs to be broken up with some mid-day estrogen.
I am more than a short girl. I am more than boobs and a uterus. I am good at my job. But nobody can see that. I am just the token short girl they trot out when they want to say, “Well, look at what our little girl can do.”
Yes, I am having a pity party. I am angry that no matter how much of my heart I put into my job nobody can see past my stature. It pisses me off. But how can you take someone seriously when they are the size of a 9-year-old?
Just once I would love to have somebody at this station say to me, “you know what, Carrie, you are good at your job. You mean so much to this station.” And I want them to actually mean it.
There’s obviously a lot more going on with my anger than an issue with my height. We’ll save that analysis for another time.
Until next time . . .