As I sit across the desk from him, there is an awkward silence. I loathe any kind of silence. Especially, strategically placed silence. Silence, inserted into an interview by design, to cause me to say more than I originally intended. I believe they call these “stress cues.” I stare at the red flashing light on his recorder and wait for the next question, the next interrogation, the next awkward silence that is sure to come. Ok, I’m exaggerating a little, but to me interviews are nerve racking, especially this one. I am being interviewed by, in my opinion one of the toughest reporters on pit road. He is here to do a story on our team and out of the blue he requested to get some insight from me about our team, our plans and how I fit in to it all. I have done interviews with reporters for the past 12 years so this one shouldn't be any different. But, it is. In the time frame leading up to the interview, I managed to transform the interview into a “Godzilla-like” creature in my mind. Here's why..like I have mentioned in my other blogs, I lack a "filter". Sitting across from a good reporter who will get whatever information he needs to make his story worth reading is a deadly combination for a "call it like ya see it" kinda girl, like myself. Especially with this interview, framed around our company. There's a lot on the line with an interview like this. It's far different from the "Tell me what it's like to be a mechanic" interview. The last thing I wanted was to shed any negative light on a company that I have invested and helped build for the past 4 years. Imagine, Jim Carrey in Liar Liar ... "The pen is blue" scenario kept replaying in my head. Every company has its bumps and bruises but smarter folks leave that out of an interview :survey says: this girl will find a way to add some spice to the story. I got to answer questions about our team, the Harry's (or crew as the reporter called them) and my future in NASCAR. It went well. I believe, my damage was minimal :hmmm: I think. :facepalm: I guess we will see when it’s in print. :yikes:
Anywho, on a few recent occasions I have found myself cornered in interviews, back-peddling and taking a more "sugar-coated" route. Completely out of character for the AP Organization (me)... I’ve been asked by several reporters, "What advice would you give to other women trying to find a career in the NASCAR garage" This is the tricky question. This is the bear trap. This is the moment where I've had to make a valiant attempt to be less blunt and more candid. I have been asked, tricked and lured into saying things I don't whole-heartedly believe. I have even had reporters turn off cameras and persuade me to answer the question differently. I find myself struggling to keep my answers PG during interviews, as it is. And now they ask me to manipulate my answers? :f: This is like asking me to plug the BP leak. I live it and I believe it's fair for me to state my feelings on it. So I chose to write this blog.
There is no easy answer to that question. Every reporter wants the “go to NASCAR Tech, meet with crew chiefs, etc.” Answer. This sport can be very tough, not just for women, but for everyone. It forces you to become callused. You will come in with big dreams, bright eyes and confidence and in the middle of July, on some idle Tuesday, you will realize that you are worn out, running low on self esteem and the only parting gift is the bags under your eyes. Sounds dreadful huh? Well it's not, that's what we live for. The point of exhaustion. The end of ourselves. The very last ounce of fight we can muster up until that one random Saturday night at the racetrack. The stars align and the hubs spin freer than they ever have before, that's the night, that you have the perfect race.
The point I am trying to make is 99% of this sport is agony and while you’re waiting for your owed 1% of glory to show up, the only thing that can keep you going is the love and passion you have for racing. NOT what some 27 year old, chick, mechanic from Maryland "spewed out" as advice during some interview. That pep talk won't last you through the first day at Daytona. There's a fire in the belly of everyone in that garage. And if there isn't, you most likely won't see that person next season. What makes you survive is the passion to play. Unfortunately I don’t believe that passion can be taught. So, if asked for an honest answer, the advice I would give is, “Do what you love and do it with determination. Don't work in NASCAR to say you work in NASCAR or I am sad to say you won't make it through boot camp. If you’re determined to be here you don't need advice, you just need to get your ass to work."
So what you're saying then is that I really need to reconsider my career aspirations? MMA fighter it is then. ;-)
ReplyDeleteThis is a great post, and I continue to sit in awe of your mad skills--grease, wrenches, and interviews? Like woah. Now I really want to be you as I've always wanted to say, "No Comment"--you know when it actually makes sense to do so instead of when Drew asks me where all of the cheese went.
I think your advice is spot on, and I don't know why you couldn't say something very similar in an interview. Of course, I have no knowledge of what would or would not be acceptable to the NASCAR gods, so it's probably in your best interest to ignore all advice I offer.
Still, I bet you know a PR person who could write you up a snappy little blurb that encompasses the general feel of what you'd really like to say. Probably wouldn't even cost you much either. :-)
well, having no idea what you edited out, all i'll say is this:
ReplyDeleteexcellent post! well thought out, well crafted, intelligent, honest.
whatever doubts you were having when you posted on twitter about this? those doubts don't show at all.
great job! -- and thank you!