The Power of No One - Part Two

"I didn't want to like you."

“You should be grateful. Someday you’ll be old and no one will care about you.”

That charming quote was where I left you last week. It came from a man on the Internet — upset that I suggested he not make gross sexual comments about my body in an open forum.

I have since discovered he was half right.

Buffalo - 2019

“Our target viewer is a woman about 40 years old. She’s married with about two children, a pet — probably a dog. She’s college educated. We call her Gina.”

The heads around the long conference table situated in the center of a dark, wood paneled room all nodded in unison as one of the news managers set the table for a meeting of the minds. None of this was new information. Everyone knew about “Gina” — a fictional lady concocted by salesmen who think Mad Men is a training film.

“This show needs to appeal to her.” More nodding, only now I was aware attention had turned to me.

“She sounds busy,” I joked, trying to break the ice. I was the only woman in the room. I was also the person who had been tapped to create a “new and innovative 4 o’clock local news program…but make it fun!” It was the biggest and most exciting opportunity of my career. Despite not having any idea how I was going to do it, I had a feeling I could make the show successful. There was just one small problem.

“Okay, but I’ll warn you: female viewers tend to hate me.” I surprised myself at the harshness of it, the brutal honesty. The men in the room shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.

“Why…do you think that is?” Someone inquired, trying to waft away the sexist cloud of “women can’t get along with each other” gathering in the room.

“I don’t know exactly,” I said. “If I had to guess I’d say being a blonde news anchor is a good start. It’s the stuff of 80s movie villains. Hate is probably a strong word,” I continued, “but if you look at my analytics on social media, for example, the audience is overwhelmingly male.”

I could tell no one at the table knew what to do with this information and so I took a stab at breaking it down.

“A lot of times viewers don’t see us as real people, because we don’t act like real people. If I’m Gina with my kid and my dog and my husband — I’m not sure I really want to spend an hour with a news robot, but I’d spend time with one of my girlfriends.”

The room bristled at “news robot” before someone hastily interjected, “we don’t want to make it too chatty!”

He made “chatty” sound like an insult. I held my tongue and suppressed an eye roll, but there was no question my face was screaming, “heaven forbid.”

Future conversations would reveal these men thought Gina was solely interested in parenting, shopping, housekeeping and cooking.

“Helpful tips!” One man said and they all happily agreed.

“You know,” I offered, “while Gina may be a wife and a mommy and whatever else she has going on — she is a whole person all on her own. She has wants, needs and desires that are unrelated to these roles she carries out everyday — we should be appealing to that too.”

A stunned silence fell over the room and I realized they had never once thought of Gina this way. I also realized this was the last place I was going to find inspiration. I adopted a tactic my now-husband calls “say yes and do what you want” — knowing, ultimately, when it came to the show, actions would speak louder than words.

Present Day

I couldn’t have known what would unfold or how beautifully it would do so. The show, which was named “Most Buffalo,” celebrated its first anniversary on April 10, 2020 — just weeks into a global pandemic. Suddenly, lots of people were home to watch TV at 4 p.m. on a weekday — eager for information and even a bit of an escape. I made it my mission to provide both. I’m still stunned by the outpouring of support, the people who still tell me, “You got me through COVID.”

As the show started to get a foothold, I started seeing more and more comments from women of all ages. I also saw and heard a certain comment more than a few times.

“I didn’t want to like you, but I do.”

Strangely satisfying and oddly complimentary, I took it as a sign. Something was changing.

“Someday you’ll be old and no one will care about you.”

We’ll see about that.

This series continues next week with Part Three.

This essay is part of a series that was originally published in my column in the Perry Herald in Perry, NY. It appeared in the April 17, 2025 edition.