a wdbm publication.

the

pact

vote

...or perish

wDBMfor station of the yearand most creative

programming

staff factsJill, our office manager, trains leader dogs for the blind. This means that the puppy she is training must be with her at all times. This means that we have at least one puppy at the station at almost any given time. Basically our lives rule.

Music reviewer and news team member Eric won a year supply of Gogurt when he was seven years old. (This amounts to three boxes of Gogurt a month for a year in cause you were curious.) He to this day, can no longer eat Gogurt without feeling ill and has a small scar on both sides of his mouth.

today’s weather(maybe)

lovelansing

llll

best burrito:

the captain c

runch french

toast

or the “suck

it” omelette

what to get:

el oasis taco

truck

best breakfast:

what to get:

where to see a show:

why:

golden harve

st

mac’s bar

the floors ar

e really stick

y and most of

this venue is

falling apart

, actually. but

it’s

somehow incredibly ch

arming,

we promise.

the vegetaria

n burrito with gua

camole

(get the mild sals

a even if you

like the heat

, this one pac

ks more

punch than

the ‘hot’)

I grew up listening to MSU’s

student-run radio station,

The Impact - WDBM. Before my

days of Spotify, Soundhound,

and high speed internet, I

remember sitting in the car,

on the verge of being late

for class, patiently waiting

to be told the name of the

song I was listening to, an

indie treat from the college

radio heavens, so I could

go out and buy the album

when I got out of school

that afternoon. I remember

wanting nothing more than to

get a tour of the studio,

see where it all happened;

maybe even meet the DJs. I

knew I wanted to attend that

school so I could one day

become one of them.

I enrolled, got accepted,

and immediately filled out

a volunteer form to work at

The Impact. Shortly after,

I put on the most credible

local band tee I owned and

skipped class to make it

to my very first training

session.

I was awful. That mic was a

terrible and daunting foe

who made me stutter every

sentence and mispronounce

my favorite band’s name. I

could never show my face

there again. It was over.

A few weeks later, the

training director saw me

in that hallway before

class. “Hey you! Come back!

You were fine. You’ll get

it soon!” Before I knew

it she had talked me into

another training session the

following day.

I calmed down and I

practiced. A LOT. Soon I

was on our internet station

and sooner than I had ever

expected I had finally made

it to the real deal. I was

finally there. I did it.

I loved DJing, and worked

a note fromthe music director

hard at it. Soon I impressed

my way onto a spot on the

director’s staff, and that’s

where the real work began.

I found myself at the station

every minute possible. I

kept an air mattress in my

office for the long nights

where I’d work until I was

too tired to bike back to my

apartment.  It meant working

holidays and bringing a plate

of Thanksgiving dinner to the

station for the director who

was left on duty when you

weren’t.  It meant a steady

flow of great music and a new

concert buddies to share it

with. It meant fights with

other directors and DJs who

acted as the siblings I never

had. It meant coming to them

for advice and tear-filled

hugs when the world outside

of radio was too cruel. It

meant another home.

So, last spring, when we

found out our funding could

get cut, it was far more than

I could handle.

Our station is funded by

a small student tax every

semester.  Upper level

decisions had been made, that

were far out of our control,

that had forced us to undergo

an audit. We have been denied

any additional funding until

the audit has been completed

and wouldn’t know (and still

don’t know) if we’d have a

job, or more importantly, a

station, the next day.

Things were more grim and

heavier than they had ever

been, but despite this we

moved forward as best we

could. We didn’t give up or

go off air. We pinched our

pennies and often pulled

them out of our own pockets.

We kept showing up. We kept

working. We worked harder

in hopes of proving our

relevance, because we deserve

to keep this station running

on our campus, and we deserve

to share it with others.

We deserve to share it with

you. We have worked hard,

and you’ve noticed. The

nominations we’ve received

this year mean far more to us

than we could ever say.

Thank you.