“Hello, this is WILL. May we take your pledge?” Four Uni sophomores find
something interesting to do on a Saturday night in Champaign-Urbana.

By Michelle Gao & Linda Song
Gargoyle staff reporters
Published Friday, Dec. 16, 2005, Gargoyle, features

The holiday season had started up, and so began the time of giving. We and two of our friends decided to give our time to help one of our favorite TV stations. But as enterprising Gargoyle reporters, we didn't want to let the experience evaporate into thin air. So here are our stories …

Linda perplexes over signs and phones
“WILL Volunteers Enter Here.”

I looked at my friend, sophomore Jie Han, and then at the sign, grinning and ringing the doorbell. It was 7:15 p.m., Dec. 3, at Campbell Hall, where the WILL public TV and AM/FM radio station are quartered. JJ and I were the first of our little group to arrive.

Fifteen minutes later in the kitchen-turned-waiting-room, whilst sipping a cup of flat and generic orange soda, I saw the rest of the entourage arrive, which consisted of sophomores Michelle Gao and Angela Jin.

“The Lawrence Welk Family Christmas Special” was just finishing as we waited for the other volunteer shifts to be over.

We were all here on a mission. It was a mission to bring help and cheer to an otherwise dreary and quiet atmosphere.

We were here to answer telephones pertaining to monetary donations and pledges for WILL during the 8-11 p.m. shift, though due to our parent's wishes, we would be leaving at 10 instead of ending at 11 with the rest of the adults.

Basically, it was a WILL pledge drive. Because the station gets limited government funding that gets cut back further and further every year, it relies more and more on public donations to keep its shows and the station running. It was our job to fill out forms that tell the station who wants to donate what.

At 8 p.m, the British comedy “As Time Goes By” had just begun, and the volunteers from the previous shift filed out of the studio. It was our turn to go in.

Slowly, I entered the room. Wires and cables ran all across the ceiling, and cameras were panning across the front of the set. I spotted the waiting telephones and the booths we were to answer them in. They were on the set, and we were going to be on TV. Oh, no, I really wasn't ready for this.

Having the most experience in this sort of job, Michelle and I sat ourselves at the first desk and glanced wryly at the phones in front of us. Angie and JJ were sitting at the booth behind us, feelings of trepidation showing clearly on their faces.

A WILL spokeswoman approached us with a slightly dry smile. Looking back on the situation, it must have been because we all definitely did not look over 16, and that two of our group were slightly high on coffee. Luckily, some of us had done this before.

The break began, and the cameras rolled.

Two WILL spokespeople began speaking about the great quality of British comedy, and suddenly my phone began to ring. I scrambled for a form and readied my red pen. Calmly, I picked up the phone after two rings (they said it was more professional that way).

“Hello, this is WILL. May I take your pledge?”

Michelle receives a phone call
After finally finding Campbell Hall, Angie and I stumbled out of the car and rang the doorbell. Nothing. We glanced through the window, where we saw JJ and Linda happily seated — and ohmygosh, was that coffee I saw?

We rang the doorbell again, and this time, someone came to get us. Going inside, I discovered that JJ was currently in hysterics about answering the phone and filling out the sheet, and then Angie, who had glanced at a sample sheet, started getting a little nervous as well.

I definitely will not lie. I felt a little smug because I'd done it before, and I knew that they were nervous for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Bad, bad me. But, being the nice person that I was, I didn't scare them even more with horror stories from last year (e.g., people who talked too fast or shouted in your ear).

We waited in the break room for a while, drinking coffee (well, JJ and I) and watching the last of the current show on the TV mounted on the wall. Finally, the show ended, and we walked into studio, nervous, bouncy, slightly sugar high, and slightly caffeinated as well.

Linda took the first phone, and I took the second; they were the two that would ring the most. We filled out the bottom of our first sheets (volunteer name, break number, source code, etc.), and then the phones began to ring.

As I finished filling out my first sheet, I started to think that maybe I shouldn't have felt quite so smug before. The paper was covered with cross-outs, but all the necessary information was there. I frowned at it, wanting to make it more legible, when the phone rang again.

A chance to prove myself. I picked it up happily, voice cheerful as I said brightly: “Hi, this is WILL! May I take your pledge?”

“WHY ARE THERE NO CLOSED CAPTIONS ON MY TV WHEN THE PROGRAM SAYS THERE SHOULD BE?!”

One thing about WILL is that most of the people who watch the Britcoms are, well, senior citizens. This one happened to be nearly deaf as well, and nearly killed my ears. Wide-eyed and stuttering an explanation, I handed the phone to the adult who was standing on the side to help the volunteers if need be.

It took a couple of minutes to sort out. She had to yell in return for the man to hear her, and then had to talk to the station director. After the initial shock wore off, I started laughing, because, really, it was too funny.

We travel the station
The first break ended all too quickly, and soon we plunged into a pattern of a pledge break filled with phone calls and cameras, then to a “resting time” with coffee, snacks, taking pictures, and watching the TV show, to another pledge break, each passing more quickly as forms were filled and phones were answered. Four pledge breaks passed, each about 10 minutes long with 10 to 15 minutes of resting time in between.

“I feel more adrenaline right now than I felt in my last basketball game,” Angie said, grinning scarily.

We were interrupted from the frantic schedule by one of the workers from WILL.

“The next break will be a long one,” she said with a smile, meaning the amount of resting time we would get. “Would you all like a tour?”

We spared one last look at the TV screen to the sight of Red Green preparing a holiday dinner inside the engine of a car, and then filed out into the depths of the station.

Our first stop was at the sound-editing and captioning studio, where background music and words are edited into the sounds and pictures that come into your television screens. To our utter mortification, our tour guide told us that the employees had been watching us while we made funny faces at the camera during the resting time.

Our next stop was the room of Michelle's dreams, where people help plan out the showings of the children's programs. It was filled with toys representing all the different characters in the memorable television shows. Oh, look! A Barney plushie! A giant Teletubbies poster! We left the room altogether happier, and with warm fuzzy feelings.

Next we came to the video library, where copies of various shows that run on WILL are archived in their rolling shelves. Those shelves are more dangerous than they seem, as Angie soon found out. She had gone to see a film canister on the shelf, and Michelle had begun to roll the cabinets together with an evil smile. There Angie was, trapped in between two shelves as they squeezed her between them.

We extracted our poor friend from her predicament and breezed through the beautiful entrance hall and lobby of WILL and stared at the station's giant Christmas tree. As we re-entered the studio, there, to our utter horror, stood our parents. What were they doing here so early? We were having such a good time at the station answering phones and admiring the filming equipment. “No! Go away!” was the general reaction as we spotted them.

We sulkily packed up our things, drinking the last cups of coffee and popping a few more pieces of popcorn into our mouths before saying our various good-byes. We stepped outside into the freezing cold and discovered that … snow was falling.

Michelle bids good-bye
It. Was. Snowing!

It was fabulous! It was wonderful! There was also the feeling of detachment from the world. We'd been answering phones for so long that we hadn't really noticed. But it hadn't felt long at all; there was so much adrenaline (and sugar and caffeine) pumping through my system that the time had passed way too quickly.

All in all, it had been a fun night of volunteering. Answering phones was a great way to improve my (already wonderful) people skills, and it was for an extremely good cause. Lots of people love watching WILL, and it was great to be able to contribute while having such an awesome time. It was also nice to know that we could make the people who worked at the station laugh, and that we were appreciated: “We're going to be expecting you every year, now! You're part of the family,” Lauri, one of the pledge coordinators, told us.

Now all I can do is wait until next year …

Linda hopes for more
I stared at the snow; it was a cold note to end the busy night on. Personally, I wished that I was able to stay for the whole entire shift that ended at 11 p.m., instead of having to leave an hour before. The energy that kept me going during the breaks was still surging, and I felt ready for more.

Knowing that the next pledge drive would arrive soon (the first week of March), I went home content. With much luck, no one at school actually saw us on TV that night. It really would be too strange.