Small Bamboo (27 page)

A couple of years earlier, I was a victim of drink spiking. Pia had come to Sydney for a holiday and we went out to Darling Harbour. We later found out that drinks bought for us by two men were spiked with an anti-epilepsy drug called Rivotril. At the time Pia and I felt groggy and a lot drunker than we should have been. We managed to get home safely but we continued to feel the effects for the next few days.

I told my colleagues at 2SM about the incident and about a week later, a media release came through from police announcing they had arrested two men over recent drink-spiking incidences in Sydney. One of the girls at the station picked it up and showed it to me, and I realised that these were probably the same men who had spiked Pia’s and my drinks at Darling Harbour.

The men had been charged with unlawfully administering a stupefying drug with intent to steal property and also commit sexual assault. They had spiked the drinks of nine women and three men. They stole from their victims and raped some of them. Pia and I were very lucky we weren’t robbed or assaulted. I called the police and they organised for me to meet with detectives. I sat with them for hours and also had to try to identify the men through a series of mug shots.

The trial started in February 2006 and I was the first witness to give evidence. I was extremely nervous. But I did my best and survived the witness box. As I left the court and walked out the door onto the street, there was a barrage of cameras in my face, journalists throwing questions at me, security guards, people everywhere. I was completely unprepared. The fact that the media—my colleagues—would be covering the story hadn’t crossed my mind. It was such a strange scenario being in the news instead of reporting it.

The story was all over the evening news and in the newspapers the next day when I went to work at Sky News. I was a little embarrassed, but they were a good bunch and they made me feel comfortable, and eventually I just got on with my work and my life.

It was a huge lesson for Pia and me—never take a drink from strangers, no matter how decent they seem. But I learnt a lot about my job too, about what it feels like to be on the other side of the news.

Sky News is a 24-hour news service and it was the perfect springboard into television for me. I was given many opportunities at Sky. I was a line-up producer, where I would form the news bulletins, align the stories in a particular order and put news bulletins live to air. I also packaged news reports on a daily basis. It was great because it gave me the chance to strengthen my voice. I also volunteered to line up and interview talent for programs such as the
Health Show
and the
Book Show
that Sky News aired back then. One of my highlights was field producing on Anzac Day, where I had to manage a live broadcast from Sydney’s Martin Place, organising talent for our bulletins to be broadcast live. They would be presented by newsreader Leigh Hatcher. I was very nervous. This was my first outside broadcast. I wanted to make sure I did a perfect job.

I arrived at Martin Place at 3 a.m. to check that everything was in place. The crew was there and the live link was working. It was going smoothly until it started raining, heavily. Some of the talent I had lined up were running late, or couldn’t find our location in the rain and crowds. I had piles of papers, folders and mobile phones. My hands were full. I tried to call the studio to warn them our talent was running late. I had my hands-free kit plugged in my ear but the rain was pounding down and I had trouble hearing the studio producer. With one hand clutching a wad of files and my phone and the other hand cupping my ear, I was yelling, ‘What?! Can you repeat that?’

Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I could see Leigh laughing. At me.

I quickly ended my call and urgently said, ‘What’s the matter? What’s happened?’

‘Trace, you absolutely look the part—stressed-out field producer. I love it!’

I grinned, feeling like I’d made it.

Leigh was one of those people who always managed to lighten the mood when things got stressful. He was a total professional but so warm and positive too, and I learnt a lot from him about working in television. He also had a cracking sense of humour, and was one of the people who made my days at Sky News enjoyable.

Another newsreader who made those days memorable was John Mangos. John was one of my early supporters, and still is. I bumped into him one day years after I had left Sky News. He greeted me with a kiss on each cheek and said, ‘Trace, I am so proud of you. You’re another one who’s now doing it for us ethnics!’

John made me feel proud too. Because, even though the first years of my career far exceeded my expectations, I’d remained aware of my background and I had often wondered if it was holding me back.

I was at Sky News for almost two years. I felt it was time to move on and try to break into the world of commercial television, but it was a tight market to crack. I wasn’t getting any interviews with Nine, Seven or Ten. Then I started getting paranoid. Was it the way I looked and was it my surname? It was rare to see an Asian face on commercial television in those days. There were a couple of Eurasian reporters around like Karen Tso but no one of full Asian heritage. I decided that was why I couldn’t crack it. It was an ignorant assumption, but that’s what I thought back then. I was close to giving up on the commercial stations when one of my Sky News colleagues, Ian Kain, said something that made me determined to stick to my goal.

I’d been moaning to him about the commercial stations and told him that I’d decided to pursue SBS instead.

‘Why would you do that?’ he asked.

‘I dunno. I think I could get something there in the future. I don’t think the others are going to give me a chance, because I’m Vietnamese. At least I’ve got the right look and name for SBS.’

Ian frowned. ‘Trace, you’re great at what you do and SBS is a great network,’ he said. ‘But don’t pursue them only because you feel like you don’t have the right look for the other channels. I want to see you and all of your Asian features, on any other channel but SBS!’ he said cheekily.

It was some of the best advice I ever received.

It wasn’t long after that conversation that I moved on from Sky News. There were some producing roles vacant at Channel Ten. I applied and was offered a position in mid-2007 as a producer for the
Early News
with presenter Bill Woods. It was an overnight shift that started at 10.30 p.m. and wrapped up when the bulletin finished at 7 a.m. I began strongly and was really enjoying the new challenge, but at this point in my life, I wasn’t in the best physical shape. I was feeling very lethargic and fainting a lot. I had these strange black-outs, and despite many tests and specialist appointments, the doctors couldn’t work out what was wrong with me. I felt I was run-down and almost burning out. One thing was clear, though, I was not up to working full-time and I wasn’t sure how long it would be before I was healthy again, so after only a month I decided to resign from Channel Ten. It was disappointing—I’d finally made it into commercial television—but I knew it was the right thing to do as I couldn’t give it 100 per cent.

For the next two months I stayed at home and rested. I had been leading an unhealthy lifestyle; I worked hard and played hard. It was like my body was telling me I needed to take it easy.

Eventually I started to feel like my normal self and I was ready to get back to work. I needed to find a job, fast. By then my old boss from Sky News, Ian Cook, was a news director at Channel Nine and I decided to give him a call on the off chance that there was some work around the station. I always seemed to call Cookie at the right times because, sure enough, he had a producing role he needed to fill straight away. Again, timing was everything and I couldn’t believe my luck. And that’s how, on 22 October 2007, I joined the Channel Nine family.

18
THE NINE FAMILY

My first day at Channel Nine didn’t seem real. Driving past security and parking my car behind the building, I felt more like a visitor than one of the company’s employees. I watched the nightly news and
60 Minutes
at home so it was hard to believe that I was actually there to work.

The first person I met in the newsroom was Michelle Pike, executive assistant to the news director for the national bulletins and for Sydney. Michelle is one of the most organised people I have ever met. Over the years I watched her work her magic—whether someone needed a new phone or computer, or an interpreter for a foreign interview, Michelle would always deliver. She became a member of my ‘Sydney family’.

I walked into the newsroom on that first day like a wide-eyed kid. The place seemed so grown-up, loud, busy—and exhilarating.

My first job at Channel Nine was as an associate producer on the production desk for the six o’clock news. My job was to help the journalists with whatever they needed while they were out on the road, providing background information, organising interviews or writing newsbreaks or VOs (voice-overs) for the newsreader. I struggled in the first couple of weeks. My writing wasn’t up to scratch and I was slow. It was also quite an intimidating desk to work at because all the others were older men; I was the only female and I was young. But I made an effort to build up relationships with my colleagues from the beginning of my career at Nine, and this proved important.

One of the first people who supported me on that desk was Geoff Maurice, one of the senior producers. He was extremely patient with me, and help me learn Nine’s writing style. If I messed up, he’d show me how to fix it. Geoff had a good rapport with all of the journalists. It was his personality—he was easy to get along with, a gentle man. Everyone who has worked with Geoff knows he’s a stickler when it comes to timekeeping. Time is crucial in a news bulletin. It is probably one of the most stressful aspects for the executive and line-up producers to deal with. Reporters always go over time. If your story went over the allocated time, Geoff would pull out a lighter from his top drawer and spark it. The joke was the journo had to put their palm over the flame for as long as their story ran over time. If, on the other hand, a reporter manages to file a story that comes in under time, it’s considered a miracle and the producers love you! Despite cutting time in stories, Geoff always had plenty of it to spend with the younger producers and journalists.

With Geoff ’s help I slowly started breaking down the barriers with more of my colleagues on the all-male desk. I was extremely shy when I first started. It was difficult to connect with the people on this desk, especially when they’d been working together for many years. I felt like I was gate-crashing their boys’ club. I didn’t say boo and David McCombe, or ‘Mullet’ as he was known, the newsroom’s foreign editor, loved giving me grief about it.

‘Gee, you don’t say much, do you?’ Mullet would grin mischievously. He was a character. If you got on his bad side, you’d want to stay out of his way. At first I wasn’t sure how to take him—was he pulling my leg, or actually having a go?—but later he became like a crazy-uncle-figure to me, someone I could speak to about anything.