Is it a Toxic Workplace, or Do You Just Need to Check Your Audio?
I’ve recently discovered there are two things no one will tell you on Zoom: when you look angry and when your audio is low. Granted, they’ll tell you if you’re in complete darkness or if you’re on mute. But telling someone their audio is bad is the new “spinach in the teeth”. For some reason people would rather try to ignore a piece of greenery in your mouth than deal with the discomfort of making someone feel embarrassed (I will never understand this logic and if you ever see me with food in my mouth, please, for the love of all things good, tell me).
Even though Zoom prompts me to check my audio before every meeting, I never did. I thought you only need to check if you use an external mic or headset. I always used my laptop with built-in mic and assumed everything was fine. After all, I never had any complaints. Until now.
I recently had a Zoom catchup with an old friend who is also doing the consultant thing. He wanted to learn more about my business idea in helping people look and feel better on their video calls. We were about five minutes in when he said “I think there’s something wrong with your audio. Maybe check your inputs? Or try logging back in?”
I logged out, logged back in and nothing was different. Then, for the first time ever, I clicked the audio drop down menu on my Zoom screen. I check my settings and found the thin line marked INPUT LEVEL. It was nearly at zero. I promptly cranked it and the conversation continued.
Since then, I have replayed my entire wfh experience. Just how long were people dealing with my bad audio? And why didn’t anyone say anything? More important, is this why I “wasn’t being heard” in my last job?
I keep thinking back to the day I almost quit — frustrated at being on a team that never seemed to listen. It was mid-winter and a plumbing issue meant no hot water in my building, which meant no shower, which meant logging on to a team meeting only using audio.
A segment producer raised an issue over timing in a show. I agreed there was a problem and suggested moving a segment to another day. After all, this producer also wanted to know if she could have more time to work on it.
No one acknowledged my solution. Instead, what followed was a group discussion between three producers, who were not me, circling around the initial problem while I grew increasingly frustrated trying to contribute.
After what felt like an eternity of being talked over, their conversation died down. Someone offered the exact same solution as I did and then said “Tara, what do you think”? As if I wasn’t talking the entire time.
Are you f*cking kidding me? Is what I wanted to say.
Instead, I chalked it up to Zoom not being able carry two voices at the same time. Plus, my camera was off, so they also couldn’t see that I was talking. I took a breath and said “ok, sounds good” and we moved on to the next day.
Deep down I felt it was yet another example of how hard I had to work to be heard in meetings. I never considered my tech was an issue, I assumed it was fine. Instead imposter syndrome reared its head. I thought maybe I wasn’t a good fit for the show anymore or my ideas weren’t good enough, strong enough.
Over time I felt disengaged from the show, the project, the team. Once you pull that thread, it’s hard to hold on. By the time I was restructured, I felt relieved to be free from a place that never really understood me.
Turns out, they simply couldn’t hear me — literally — which is a different thing.
I can look at my frame and adjust lighting, angles and backgrounds. But audio is different. I can check my headset and speakers, but they’re transmitting other people’s audio. When I speak into a mic, I just hear myself speaking in whatever room I’m in. Yes, I can check my input levels. But we can also check on each other.
In TV there are people designated to listen to the hosts and guests and make sure their mics are working. It’s one of the most important jobs, especially on live TV.
So the next time you’re on a call, and you’re having a hard time hearing someone, let them know. Everyone deserves to be heard on video. It’s way worse if you decide to live with the discomfort of it all.
