Let's start at the beginning. In Low Power FM, we're
talking about radio stations with a small reach -- a few miles and 10
or 100 watt transmitters, right? So why is LPFM important?
Low power FM is important for a bunch of reasons -- but the most important
one is that these stations are locally owned, by owners who can legally
hold just one radio license. The board of directors of the station has
to live within a few miles of the transmitter. The station is, for that
reason, accountable -- if you don't like something on the air, you can
see the chief engineer or the morning talk show program director at church,
at the supermarket, chaperoning the school dance. In a consolidated media
market -- when Clear Channel, Viacom, Cox, and the other big radio owners
own most of the stations in our towns -- we can hear the difference very
easily. A low power FM station is a community radio station -- like a
community library or a public park.
In 2003, Clear Channel blasted Glen Beck's program all over
the country. He was a cheerleader for the war. Clear Channel, which owns
almost 1300 radio stations around the US, also owns almost 800,000 billboards
and dozens of major arenas. So instead of local debates on America's strongest
radio stations about how the war would impact local National Guard troops,
businesses, families, and cities, we had our radio stations, our billboards,
and our arenas all trumpeting the war. There were pro-war rallies in many
Clear Channel owned venues all over the US in 2003.
Low power FM stations and other community radio stations held real debates
about the lead up to war, and about so many other issues. One hundred
watts covers a neighborhood and a small town -- 100 watts of accountability
to that town.
I read
recently about a conservative radio host who reports on immigration
and local traffic on KFYI in Phoenix. Only thing is, he lives in the San
Fernando Valley in California...
Exactly. That's called voice-tracking -- and it's one of the most drastic
and noticeable results of media consolidation's amazing acceleration over
the past decade. In 1996, Congress passed a huge law governing all the
telecommunications ownership rules in the country -- it was called the
The Telecommunications Act. That act had huge consequences
for local radio. That act allowed corporate station owners to vastly increase
their holdings in small towns and across different kinds of media platforms.
So to go back to my favorite canary in the coal mine, Clear Channel, before
1996, they owned just 40 stations nationwide. After 1996, they ballooned
to almost 1300, all headquartered out of San Antonio, Texas.
So when Clear Channel came into a market they would buy
up all the stations in town up to six or eight. Then they'd move the headquarters
of all those stations into what they call a 'market cluster.' In Philadelphia,
that means a big building on City Line Avenue. Out of that building, you
have one administrative staff set, one janitorial staff, one engineering
staff, and one programming staff -- all running 6 stations. That means
tons of deejays, programmers, and program directors all got fired. Clear
Channel makes their deejays work triple-time. One deejay will record the
weather, the traffic, and public affairs and news programming for three,
four, or five stations.
And they'll adjust their cadences, their local geographic
references, to their ideas of the needs of the local town. It's disgusting
-- and luckily, noticeable. People have been turning away from that kind
of radio in droves, and Clear Channel is starting to notice that terrible
radio is not profitable.
What's the feedback loop when you you have a host in one part of the country
talking to listeners in another part of the country? I mean, what does
he or she really care what listeners think, as long as the corporation
is happy?
Great point. Here's a great example In New York City about a year ago,
there was a deejay on one of the local hip hop stations -- DJ Star. His
station Power 105 FM had a rivalry with Hot 97, another local hip hop
station in town. So on his morning talk program DJ Star started to make
a bunch of pretty terrible comments about the deejay, which is nothing
new.
He then went way too far -- making sexually suggestive and threatening
comments against the four year-old of his rival. Now this was terrible
enough for the people of NYC. But Clear Channel syndicated that show on
11 other stations -- as far south as South Carolina. So not only were
the people of New York forced to listen to a grown man offering a $500
reward to learn from listeners where the daughter of the rival deejay
attended school, but so were listeners in Philadelphia, Georgia...
It's good to make those deejays accountable -- and Star was let go for
his comments -- but it's like lopping the head off a hydra. As long as
Clear Channel can suck profits from their San Antonio headquarters, they
don't have to worry about the local community's complaints to stay alive
and pump non-accountable programming to us. We started a site -- Hate:
The Clear Channel Game --about the structural problem here.
It is indecent that GE, Disney, Cox, Clear Channel, and
Time Warner own so much on our airwaves. And that the FCC does not give
true muscle to those tools they do have to keep stations accountable --
like license renewals, and license challenges. At the recent media ownership
hearing in Tampa, Florida, Commissioner Michael Copps described his own
FCC's license renewal system as a 'postcard-stamp process'. In the UK
and in other nations, you can't get a radio station without filling out
an application tantamount to a huge grant request. We need to force the
FCC to give us more tools to stop media consolidation and keep stations
accountable in our neighborhoods.
The No Hate Radio site above allowed people to file complaints
at the FCC on the license owned in New York City. Which I found a lot
more productive than just asking the station to remove the offending deejay
and replace him with someone just as bad or worse.
What do you make of the fact that Don Imus said
today that he's
suing CBS Radio, saying that he gave them exactly what they paid for
-- controversy, "irreverence"?
I think it's very interesting to think about the capital
relationship inherent in that phrase. Who paid for Imus? The shareholders
of CBS. Who will pay for what he actually says? The listeners of the American
public struggling, every day, to learn how they can get better health
care, how they can learn more about their elected officials besides controversy.
It is as if we give Imus and the corporate owners of CBS a payment of
our most valuable resources -- our time and our airwaves -- in giving
him a national seat to speak. I think that we must stop media consolidation
-- but I am very interested in building new outlets, in building community
radio stations as a major solution to media consolidation. Especially
in rural areas, where the impact of consolidation is so deeply magnified.
I sent you the Gerardo
Reyes Chavez testimony about how the Naples, Florida, radio stations
didn't broadcast in languages that the tens of thousands of local farm
workers could understand. Many of them were left in the fields with no
information on how to escape Hurricane Wilma as a result. Consolidation
costs lives. Luckily, WCTI-LP--Radio Consciencia, which broadcasts in
Zapotec, M'am, and Haitian Creole, as well as Spanish, reached those
farm workers, who were able to call into the radio station and talk to
actual people rather than a voice-tracked computer. Then WCTI sent vans
out to rescue the farm workers from danger. Over 350 people were saved.
At a recent media ownership hearing in Harrisburg, the entire first two
hours of testimony were filled up with the development directors talking
about how wonderful the local corporate, consolidated media was -- helping
with Toys for Tots drives, blood drives for the Red Cross. This is deeply
important. But not the same as giving a diverse community the information
it needs to live.
I can bash Clear Channel all day. I think they've poisoned
the American public in order to sell toothpaste. But every time a new
low power FM radio station goes on the air, I start to cry. Because it
isn't just a new media outlet filled with lots of diverse voices -- it's
an organizing center.
I'm here to let you talk, but have you ever seen
this
quote from Clear Channel Chairman Lowry Mays? "We're not in the
business of providing news and information. We're not in the business
of providing well-researched music. We're simply in the business of selling
our customers products."
That's Lowry Mays and [Clear Channel Radio CEO] John Hogan for you. They
consider themselves the largest outdoor advertising company in the world.
That's how they frame themselves to stockholders. But the American people
won't stand for it.
It seems like a fight between this model that's
happy with the linearity of news, where information only travels one way...
Sure. These stations treat us as consumers. They only open the phones
for contests. They don't treat the airwaves as public space that we need
to connect with each other.
The Internet is important, but Americans have an average of nine radios
in their lives each day -- their clock radio, car radio, at the bank,
at work, which means that radio permeates many aspects of their day. If
you are a poor person, or a rural person who can likely only get the Internet
from a monopoly owner charging exorbitant fees, or a Native American person
living on a reservation, where the American government continues to renege
on its promise to provide universal phone service, then the radio is it.
If we want to win back this nation for bold and challenging progressive
values, we cannot ignore those media consumers.
The Center for Rural Strategies -- a longstanding rural
community organization in Kentucky -- wrote a
great paper all about how the right built radio stations in the midwest
for 20 years. When we look at red and blue states, we can see where conservative
companies invested in radio. And what they invested in was, in fact, voice-tracked
and consolidated radio, run from Calvary Chapel headquarters in California
or Idaho. But because everyone else ignored South Dakota, Kansas, and
other places, that's all that people had to listen to.
You talk about the importance of radio in much of
America. In some parts of Africa, rural radio is sometimes called "Africa's
Internet."
I just got back from Kenya, where we built three radio
stations with powerful community organizations. One of the favorite groups
I met was called Koch FM, in an unofficial/slum community called Korogocho,
similar to the more famous Kibera.
Youth in that community outside of Nairobi built a community radio station
called Koch FM to deal with a specific community problem -- the growing
number of assaults on youth and women. That station not only spread the
word about the importance of behaving with respect, but gave kids and
many others a chance to make something powerful and to share it with their
community. They built their station from the ground up -- from microphone
to antenna -- learning job skills and building a family in the meantime.
Clear Channel hasn't made it to Kenya yet?
Media consolidation is alive and kicking in East Africa. There are two
major telecom providers -- Safaricom and CelTel. Entire buildings are
painted green or red, and plastered with their marquees. You can buy a
chicken, a plate of ugali, and a cell phone SIM card or top-up
for your prepaid phone on any roadside in Kenya. The radio system is also
getting more consolidated -- Capitol FM is the top station in Nairobi.
I heard that Beyonce song "To the Left" about 100 times. It
sounded just like American radio.
Um, i think it's called "Irreplaceable."
Haha. "Everything you own in a box to the left..."
Kenyan kids need to learn about "go ahead and get gone"
too.
Indeed!
We're a bit off topic. What was it that Prometheus
was doing in Kenya?
We were invited to bring our barn raising model to Kenya to work with
the Kenyan Independent Media Center, and the communications department
at one of Kenya's best schools -- Maseno University, west of Kisumu. A
barn raising -- taken from the Amish term of neighbors coming together
to build a community barn -- is when hundreds of volunteers build an entire,
working, permanent radio station over a short time -- usually three days.
In Kenya, resources were slightly harder to come by (though I became a
really good bargainer on the streets of Nairobi for Coby CD players),
so it took longer.
We built one station at the top of Moi stadium, during
the World Social Forum, with volunteers from Somalia, Tanzania, Uganda,
Kenya, and South Africa. We saw the power of community radio unfold before
us when youth from Kangemi, another local unofficial/slum community, challenged
the organizers of the WSF to adjust prices and programming to meet their
needs. Youth leading that struggle came to the top of the station to be
interviewed by new volunteer deejays on a transmitter built by new volunteer
engineers broadcasting to the entire forum of 50,000 people. Even when
the station was held up by three armed bandits, we decided to keep going,
because the community who built it cared so much.
That was a temporary station?
It was temporary at the WSF -- but the collective is still working together
and working to put the station up again in Nairobi, for good
What's the process for getting a radio license in Kenya?
It's a little more flexible in the US, where it is almost impossible.
But you have to talk to the CCK -- the Kenyan FCC. At Maseno, the university
where we built a permanent station, they were in process of getting a
license when we worked for three days with students, professors, and community
organizers who came west from Nairobi. The station was up and on-air,
but the license application was still underway. As consolidation deepens
in Kenya and all of East Africa, it's harder and harder to build.
What keeps me up at night is how much I want to go to Somalia to build
a station with a women's community center there. Suaad -- a woman who
traveled with us al the way from Nairobi to Kisumu after learning what
we were going to do there -- kept telling us that now, now, was the time
to build. Because there was no government now. And if the station was
up by the time a government formed, it would be harder for them to take
it down.
Geekcorps (like the Peace Corps, sorta, for geeks)
has this model where, in Mali, for example, they connect the people to
a local radio station, but they also connect the station to the Internet
-- hooking up the people working at the station with a Linux-driven box.
The idea there is that people can get the benefit of the global network
without necessarily being directly hooked into it.
Interesting. In Kenya, many people used the Internet -- and wanted to
-- but it's prohibitively expensive to get access at home -- the equivalent
of $300/month for 'Permanent Internet'. There is something we care a lot
about at Prometheus: an 'appropriate technology' model.
We brought about 10 donated computers for the trip -- and
within a week, most of them were infected with viruses. We had carefully
loaded them with open-source audio editing, movie production, layout software,
and they all went down. Plus, we didn't have enough of these machines
to give to everyone who wanted one. I've never felt so laden, burdened
with resources I didn't want. The most sustainable tools we used were
the soldering irons, the tape decks, and the analog technology that runs
on batteries. These were tools that could be fixed, replicated, and passed
on when the fancy resources left with the ugly Americans.
This is something that absolutely disgusted me. We worked closely with
an organizer named John Bwakali, a founder of Kenya IMC who also works
on youth issues with the United Nations. The cultural producers who make
up the IMC and other groups wanted to sell their work, arts, and other
products online through eBay. Amazing stuff that sells incredibly cheap
in Kenya but would make a good profit to fund the organizing programs
-- if they could sell them online. But when John tried to set up an eBay
and PayPal account, he was rejected. He actually got a long legal letter
from eBay about how they 'don't support Kenya'. Literally and figuratively,
right?
It makes me think a lot about how so many free trade products
are sold through Western intermediaries -- NGOs. And how our media reform
battles must be international so our allies in the global South and beyond
can represent themselves on the Internet, and not have to work through
us to tell their own stories.
This is a battle that net neutrality activists and the blogosphere
should embrace if they want an open dialogue with the entire world. The
Geekcorps thing you are describing sounds great. Because even if local
people can't get access, they can at least hook into the global community
for solidarity purposes.
Yeah, you should check them out. From what I know,
they build radio networks from Coke bottles or something.
Ha, awesome, us too! Also cooking fires and pipes.
Which brings up a good question, if I may say so myself. What
does it take to build a Low Power FM station? And how much does it cost?
Great question, Nancy! A low power FM radio station is an extremely sustainable
and appropriate technology, in the U.S. and around the world. It costs
anything from $5000 to $20,000 to start -- one-time costs invested in
consoles, the certified transmitter required by the FCC, the Emergency
Alert system, etc. You put up the station and you're good to go. You pay
$500 a year to the licensing companies if you pay music, and then your
electricity bills (very cheap for a transmitter that has the equivalent
power of a light bulb at 100 watts). The thing I love the most about LPFM
though is that you can build these stations yourself. FM radio is a very
well understood technology -- it's been around for 100 years. At Prometheus,
when we build stations, the experts in the room don't pick up the tools
and solder together the compressor for the station themselves. Instead,
they hand the tools to a grandmother, a labor organizer, a seven-year-old
and guide them through the process of building the station.
This has two benefits. The locals understand the technology
and can keep it running if anything breaks -- very different from commercial
radio, where one professional engineering team for Infinity Broadcasting
is running eight to 12 stations or more over a 50-mile radius. So, for
example, after Hurricane Katrina, on the Mississippi and Louisiana Gulf
coast, of the 41 stations on the air, lining that coast only four stayed
up during and after the storm and two of those four were low power FM
radio stations. That's because the local engineers -- all volunteers --
lived in the community and knew the tweaks and turns they had to pull
off to keep their lifeline stations going.
One station -- WQRZ, in Bay St. Louis, MS -- was the only
station that stayed on air in ground zero for Katrina -- Hancock County.
It became so essential for getting news out about water pickups, where
missing family members were, etc. that the Emergency Operations Center
for the whole county set up shop with the station.
Now benefit number two. The groups build a regional network with other
supporters in the area. This means that the people who come together to
build a radio station are not just building a station -- they are building
a movement. We built a station with PCUN -- the Pineros y Campesinos
Unidos de Noroeste -- a powerful farm worker group in the Northwest.
Now that they have a station, they are telling other farm worker labor
groups that they need to get ready to build.
We've gotten calls from 12 other farm worker organizing groups who want
stations -- to organize for workers' rights and voting rights and immigration
rights -- because they heard about it from someone they trust.
Reading news
coverage of the work that was done to set up Radio KAMP at the Astrodome
after Hurricane Katrina, while FEMA, the mayor of Houston, and the governor
of Texas were intrigued by the idea, more hands-on officials seemed a
bit frightened by the idea that there would be a way of ground-up way
of distributing information to the people in the stadium. Is that a fair
assessment?
Racism is alive and well in Texas. This is what the folks
at the Astrodome said: they wanted us to get 10,000 radios so "people
wouldn't fight over the radios". They wanted us to get only radios
with earphones because "they didn't want loud rap music to incite
violence". Oh, and they wanted the radios to be cheap, "so people
wouldn't steal them from each other". This is repulsive, yes?
Even though the communities displaced from New Orleans -- thousands of
whom had just come from the Superdome, where so many suffered so much
-- could not understand the information they were receiving as it was
being delivered over a loudspeaker (can you imagine getting detailed form-filling-out
instructions over a stadium loudspeaker?), despite all of this and despite
the fact that we had an FCC license, the Astrodome fought it. Still, we
succeeded in getting on air. We got the 10,000 radios through donations
by Sony and through personal donations to the Houston Independent Media
Center, to Pacifica Radio, and to Prometheus from supporters all over
the world, as far away as New Zealand and Sweden as well as across the
Us.
They wouldn't let us build inside the stadium, so a pair of leather bikers
from south Texas donated an airstream trailer. We served many thousands
of people during the last weeks of the displacement inside the Astrodome.
Many people came up to the station and got on the air to tell their stories
of loss and to look for loved ones, to talk about jobs, finding new housing
in Houston. I am so proud of the people who worked so hard to make that
happen. And I am proud of the FCC -- which understood that there was plenty
of room in Houston -- one of America's biggest cities -- to provide this
essential service. People are so afraid of communities speaking to each
other.
While we're talking FCC, you mentioned the Radio Broadcast
Preservation Act of 2000, which called on the FCC to limit LPFM to
small cities -- less Philadelphia and more Altoona. If you might divine
the motives of Congress for me, what were they thinking with that bill?
Well, let's be honest here. Some of them were concerned that Low Power
FM stations, if built in big cities and plugged into the spaces on the
FM dial between the smooth jazz, talk radio, and NPR outlets, would interfere
with the big broadcasters. And they wanted to see if that was true. They
wanted the FCC to commission a study to determine if the FM dial would
be wrecked by community radio.
But many of them were thinking, "Wow, we get a lot
of airtime on big radio stations, and they seem concerned about this issue."
According to the Center for Public Integrity, big broadcaster are some
of the largest political donors to campaigns. So while I think that many
Congress members had a real concern for the listening integrity of the
FM dial, others were a little blinded by the dollar signs.
Luckily, Congress did commission the FCC to study the potential
interference of Low Power FM radio. They got the MITRE corporation, a
major independent government contractor, to see whether or not Low Power
FM could be built in a city with many stations already on the dial --
like Philadelphia, Minneapolis, Albuquerque, New Orleans, or Seattle.
After doing a 2.2 million dollar, comprehensive engineering study, the
MITRE corporation found that there was plenty of room for LPFM in
big cities as well as the hundreds of small communities where it was already
flourishing (like Altoona). MITRE made a recommendation to the FCC that
they work to expand Low Power FM -- and the FCC, in turn, took that recommendation
to Congress. Now it is up to them to look at the study that they ordered
in 2000 and to implement the LPFM service as it was originally designed
by the Commission.
Is this ok? Too wonky?
Oh please, wonk out.
The folks who were the architects of the limitation of LPFM were New Mexico's
Heather Wilson, and Michigan's John Dingell. Wilson has made some great
statements on important media issues like having a free and open Internet,
and Dingell has taken great leadership as the new chairman of the House
of Representatives' Commerce Committee. Constituents in Albuquerque (Wilson's
district) and west of Detroit (Dingell's district) should take a listen
to their FM radio and if they want more diverse voices on the dial --
from everybody from the Chamber of Commerce to the local 4-H club to the
local AFL-CIO -- and they should tell these folks that now is the time
to expand LPFM.
The Senate has been very active on this issue. Senators
John McCain, Maria Cantwell, and Patrick Leahy have introduced a bill
in both the 108th and the 109th congress, designed to take the FCC's recommendation
into consideration and expand LPFM to America's big cities, once and for
all. The bill did great last year -- passing out of the Commerce committee
14-7.
Is there a legislative vehicle for yet for expanding
LPFM (in the 110th Congress)?
Senators McCain and Cantwell have committed to reintroducing
their bill -- last year it was S.
312 -- in the next few weeks.
And we're getting some excitement in the House too. Congressman
Mike Doyle, a Democrat from Pennsylvania and the Vice Chair of the Telecommunications
Subcommittee in the House, just
keynoted a big policy summit in DC on Wednesday where he said he was
looking at legislation. He was pretty fired up because a local university
in his district -- the Penn State Mckeesport Branch outside of Pittsburgh
-- applied for a Low Power FM radio station and had their license application
cancelled because of Congress' law. That school has a great Internet radio
station -- WMKP "The Roar."
It's the largest student group on campus. They should be
able to be on air in their community, as should the many diverse groups
who need a voice in Pittsburgh, which has a heavily consolidated media
market. We congratulate Congressman Doyle on his leadership -- and people
across the city are encouraging him to introduce a bill.
The makeup of the
coalition backing the LPFM expansion -- from the Christian Coalition
to the Future of Music Coalition -- is similiar to the
coalition backing net neutrality, no?
Great point. Low Power FM is far from partisan. Recently, a Christian
gospel radio station -- a Low power FM out of Ringgold, Georgia -- went
to visit their congressman, Congressman Nathan Deal, a another member
of the Telecom Subcommittee. Their station is under threat of being knocked
off the air by a Chattanooga Clear Channel station. Jim Price, Sr., a
conservative gentleman to be sure, told his congressman how much he supported
local, independent media and how deeply WBFC-LP has been embraced by the
local community. Nathan Deal told Mr. Price that he wanted to support
Low Power FM.
If LPFM is expanded, there will be more places for stations
like WBFC to move if they are under threat of being displaced by big broadcasters.
We work closely with municipalities, churches, community schools, and
a wide variety of groups from all across the political spectrum. Everyone
agrees that community radio is an essential part of every city and town.
In Georgia, everyone from Albany State University to the Good News Church
to Frogtown Community Radio to Fellowship of Holy Hip Hop are on the air.
Cities like New Orleans would have room for three or four LPFM stations
if Congress gave the FCC back their power to license stations. So we can
have folks from all across the political spectrum sharing views and, more
importantly, giving access to many stakeholders across the city. This
is what the FCC meant when they said their job was to license in the public
interest.
That raises what I might suggest is an important point. I'd argue
that while telecom policy is both so important and so deadly dull, one
thing that's pretty straightforward and compelling is the idea that the
radio spectrum is a public resource that belongs to we the people. That
idea seems to get a bit battered and bruised in DC.
That's why, to be totally honest, I spend a lot more time
listening to how the environmentalists of Portsmouth, New Hampshire and
the SEIU organizers of Chicago and the women's literacy workers of the
New Mexico Media Literacy project view these issues. I think that in DC
there's a little bit of disconnect on how many people still use their
airwaves to get information. The airwaves are a medium by which we learn
about everything from national policy battles to local emergencies. When
we frame the airwaves as a resource people need -- and a resource people
are willing to fight for -- we get success. Our strongest lobbyists are
the community radio stations -- and those who lost their chances to get
stations -- themselves.
How did you get involved with Prometheus? And is Hannah Sassaman
your real name?
Hannah Sassaman is my real name. I had one chance -- and
one chance only -- to take on a pirate radio name, right when I started
here at Prometheus fresh from the University of Pennsylvania in 2001.
For years, I worked as a bartender at an amazing and famous local Eritrean
restaurant to supplement my work in the Methodist Church basement Prometheus
calls its home. I learned a little Amharic and Tegrinia and became a devotee
of a great chickpea dish -- shuro watt. I tried signing emails with that
for awhile. It didn't stick sadly.
Shuro Watt?
Yes, that was to be my pirate radio name. Now we have an
Oromo (Oromo being a people who live in the western part of Ethiopia)
organizer working with us -- Siyade Gemechisa -- and she knows that dish
very well . She thinks that name is hilarious. As Prometheus started as
a group of pirates, working with Radio Mutiny here in Philadelphia. Though
we are no longer pirates now.
I came to Prometheus after getting active around the Republican
National Convention in Philadelphia in 2000. I was very angry at how the
community groups fighting that event -- really not something that the
Democratic machine town of Philly would ever embrace -- were covered on
the local news. I started producing radio plays for Prometheus and then
took on their Clear Channel campaign. We organized a huge rally against
Clear Channel, Fox, and NBC, and I started doing national organizing in
Seattle, San Antonio, Rapid City, SD, Nashville, and beyond, after that.
The rest is history.
Shuro watt is really tasty. It's like this spicy pureed
chickpea dish. Does my name sound like a fake name?
Nah, but I was reading last night about how Prometheus'
"Director of Electromagnatism" is named Pete Tridish [say it
aloud].
Petri is amazing. He helped found Radio Mutiny with 70 other programmers.
At its height, there were Jamaican ministers, anarchists, and older folks
on the air in West Philadelphia from a tiny studio in the back of his
house. One of our board members, Diane Myers, called herself "The
Condom Lady" and produced a show about sex health education, interspersed
with Prog Rock. So you'd get a bit of Captain Beefheart, then "Dental
Dams: Fact or Fiction?"
When one woman, an Ethiopian journalist who had moved to
Philadelphia (West Philly is a big immigrant community), started getting
trained on the air and people were really excited. But she never showed
up for her first session on the radio. Folks called her -- asking if she
was ok, they hadn't heard from her. She professed her love for the station
and how excited she was to start getting ready to program news about the
continuing conflict between Eritrea and Ethiopia to many local immigrants,
but she decided to not come back because she was afraid that if the police
came to the station while she was there, she'd lose her legal immigration
status. That made us angry. And we decided that community radio needed
to come out of the closet.
There was ample room for the five-watt Radio Mutiny on
Philadelphia's airwaves. And no one should be threatened with fines, jail
time, loss of property and more for using those airwaves. So with a large
coalition of strange bedfellows -- the United Conference of Catholic Bishops,
22 cities in Michigan, and many radio pirates, and so many more folks
-- we fought for, and won, the Low Power FM radio service at the FCC.
To tie it all together: the LPFM service was started under
Bill Kennard, the FCC Chairman under Clinton. Bill went to South Africa
to help them start up their telecom regulatory service. One of his visits
was to a community radio station outside of Johannesburg -- Bush Radio
-- run by Zane Ibrahim. Kennard was supposed to spend 1/2 hour at Bush
Radio. He spent 4 hours learning how community organizers worked to put
entrepreneurial programming, women's programming, and elders' programming,
on the air in the years after the end of apartheid. Zane said: community
radio is 10% radio and 90% community. Kennard came back and founded LPFM.
Before Kennard, there was something called 'Class D,' which
was a tiny educational radio service used by universities primarily. One
watt stations, things like that. But there wasn't LPFM -- absolutely no
way for a community to get a station, besides buying it on the open market
for millions of dollars.
Prometheus stole fire from the
gods and gave it to mortals. But things didn't end so well -- what with
him having his regenerating liver pecked out by a bird. Do things look
a bit better for you guys?
They do. We not only have the best chance in years to expand Low Power
FM radio with leaders like Congressman Markey, Congressman Doyle, and
Senators McCain, Leahy, and Cantwell leading the way, but this fall the
FCC is going to give out the last Full Power FM non-commercial radio stations
they will probably ever distribute. This is the first time in a generation
that community groups will get to apply for juggernaut licenses -- up
to 100,000 watts -- in communities across the country. There's more room
in rural areas, but surprising open slots in big cities, too. You can
visit Get Radio to see if
there is a potential available frequency in your city or town and Radio
for People or Prometheus
Radio Project to get all the info you need to get ready to apply with
your community organization -- non-profits only.
The window opens October 12th, for 7 days only -- so now is the time
to get ready to apply, and to join thousands of progressives and community
organizations in taking back the FM dial. A group will have to get $3,000
to $5,000 together to pay for the engineering necessary to apply for the
full power FM license -- you have to give the commission an engineering
study that proves there's plenty of room for an full power station in
your neck of hate woods. Then you have at least three years to fund raise
for the rest.
Full Power FM is a bit more expensive than LPFM, but you can build a
full power station for $20k or pay up to $200k, depending on your taste
in equipment and what kind of staff you want to hire. But some of the
strongest full power community radio stations are run by mostly volunteers
-- KGNU in Boulder, WERU in Maine, and WMNF in Tampa are great examples.
As they became absolutely indispensable to their communities as the go-to
places for diverse, independent news, music, and culture they built membership
programs to raise their budgets -- and to hire staff and expand their
effectiveness. I get so excited when I think about this wonderful, rare
chance to build institutions -- progressive, open institutions -- for
our kids and grandkids.
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