Paths and Ladders

When I was seventeen, I was reading the news for and hosting a short, morning radio program at my high school. I had already by then begun to develop a broadcaster’s voice, born in part by the recognition that while I didn’t believe I could sing, I could maybe speak in a way that caught language’s inherent musicality. I was also aware that I had the sort of traditional looks that leant themselves to television journalism or the U.S. Congress.

As I looked ahead at possible career options, it seemed a bit like I was built to anchor the evening news somewhere. That could be a good job, I thought. I’d heard it paid well, and I knew I wouldn’t mind a little celebrity, such as it would be. I was in the process of choosing colleges, the supposed first step in charting the course for the rest of your adult life. I tried picturing myself behind an anchor’s desk, looking into a camera, my voice the neutral conduit for the day’s trauma and drama. It was not hard at all to imagine. It almost felt like it would be an easy, natural path to follow.

All that was true, and yet I only considered that path for about five minutes before I concluded it was not for me. It seemed that TV journalism, as a career, was a kind of pyramid, atop which sat the anchor for one of the three major networks’ evening news (this was early 80’s). Every journalist would essentially be doing the same job. How could my career not be driven by my competition with those other journalists, since we would all be coveting the same position, each of our ambitions pointing us in the exact same a direction? It would be like a giant game with only three winners. That’s not a game I wanted to play.

I have no idea how accurate my view of TV journalism actually was, but I did recognize, accurately, that I wanted nothing to do with ladder-climbing. I wanted nothing to do with it because I knew how tempting it would be, how each rung could become a measure of something more than how much you’re paid or how many people recognize you at the mall. How tempting if you could count your rungs and know what you are worth.

So, I chose the arts instead – which, of course, has plenty of competition and ladders if you want to climb them. There’s no escaping the choice you have to make about how much there is in life to go around. Competition, for all it can summon from us, is so often driven by the idea of limited riches, trophies, awards, and contracts waiting for the winners. It can turn everyone into an enemy. I did not want to live in a world full of competitors and foes. I wanted to live in a world of friends and fellow travelers. It would take finally following my own path to see that there were plenty for everyone.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual coaching and group workshops.

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com