Sometimes I don’t. Mostly I do.
It’s a funny thing – making people talk, tell me stories, things that perhaps they’re happy to tell me, sometimes they’re not.
I love feeling like I’ve made a difference. Or at least tried to.
I hate the criticism that can sometimes come with such a public job. I have wondered many times if I possess skin thick enough for this job. But I also wonder if the thick-skinned ones really care … if they really *feel* what’s going on in a conversation with a guest.
A woman once wrote to me to tell me that a series I had done on breast cancer, for which I recorded my own mammogram, encouraged her to bite the bullet and get a mammogram herself.
She was found to have an early breast cancer.
She thanked me for that.
A tiny, immune-deficient girl now gets a little more attention from her paediatrician – because he heard her distressed mother on my program.
I’ve interviewed the rich and famous, the poor and voiceless. Or at least they were voiceless. Academics, researchers, teachers, politicians, unionists, children, mothers, fathers, rock stars, surgeons, authors, liars, abusers, rescuers, the terminally ill … even a motor mechanic who is one of the world’s finest Celtic fiddlers!
Occasionally, not often, but occasionally … there are those that will use me, and my position, for their own gain. Hopefully I will become wiser at spotting them!
It’s a privilege.
One that sometimes I intentionally abuse. But I hope only in a good way.
Using my evil powers for good.
It’s all I can do. I don’t know anything else.