Transcript: Melissa Doyle on Confidence, Juggling Babies and Breakfast TV, and Growing Older with Purpose
And We're Rolling with Stephanie Hunt
STEPH: Mel Doyle, I am absolutely thrilled. Thank you so much for joining us today.
MEL: I'm totally thrown. It's strange — I don't like being interviewed. It's much easier on the other side. But I feel like I'm just chatting with a friend, so that's okay. I won't think of it as an interview.
STEPH: Exactly. This is really fun, but also just really lovely to chat. And look at us — I'm in my bedroom, you're in yours. Who would have thought? Hasn't this been the best part, that we can actually do this anywhere, anytime?
MEL: I did take my boots off and put my runners on though. I feel like I'm really dressed up for you.
STEPH: You've gone over the top. I appreciate the effort. Now, there are so many exciting things happening for you at the moment, but a big one — your son Nick out of quarantine. That reunion would have been amazing.
MEL: Do you know, it's funny — no matter how old they get and how grown up, you feel like they're still your babies. Nick is 20 and towers over me. He's at college in the US, up in Seattle, and he came home for his summer vacation. He landed and had to do his two weeks quarantine, which got pretty tough around day eight or nine. He was just totally over it and bored. Then he came out on Monday — straight into lockdown. In a way, I'm probably the only one happy about it because I get him at home and he can't escape. But I do feel for him — he's 20, he wants to catch up with all his mates, and all he gets is his parents and sister. But it's really nice to have him home.
As wonderful as it is that they get to take on the world and live out all the adventures you spend your whole life raising them to do — when they actually do it, it's sort of that moment of going: oh my gosh, okay, well you're ready. But I wasn't. It's lovely.
STEPH: I feel like it was just the other day that we were all together in Mongolia, cruising around Ulaanbaatar.
MEL: Well, he was 12. So yes — just the other day. Such a good trip.
STEPH: Can you talk us through the moment when you really thought: I think I've made it?
MEL: I don't know. It's almost like I think of it more as being accepted into this incredible club. But I would hate to ever feel that I had made it, because then I think you believe you've got it all sorted and you know what you're doing. I like to think that I'm forever learning. I never want to be at a point where I feel I know all the answers.
Every single story I've ever done, every live breaking news I've ever been on, I've always come back and spoken to the people around me that I trust and asked: how was it? What could I have done better? What could I have done differently? What was my strength? What was my weakness? Where could we do better next time? I've always thought that was really, really important — that frank conversation. Never be too precious to take on criticism. Never be too precious to have someone say you could have done that a lot better.
I can remember being young, watching 60 Minutes every Sunday night and doing the sign-off as a kid: "I'm Melissa Doyle, those stories and more tonight on 60 Minutes." Practising. And then having this wonderful dream of imagine working on breakfast television. So when I had the chance to do Sunrise, and then Sunday Night, I certainly had an amazing feeling of satisfaction that I'd achieved the things I'd dreamt about as a kid. But I don't know whether I'd ever think I've nailed it.
STEPH: Were there ever moments when you thought you might not reach those dreams, or did you always know you'd get there someday?
MEL: It was just that really fiery hope you have when you're young — I'll just keep going. I have a box in the roof of all the rejection letters I got. I remember being at uni and writing to every single news director around the country, and all of them wrote back saying: no positions. And then when I did land my first job and applied for the next one and got rejected again. Keeping all of that just to remind me that sometimes it's tough and you don't think you're ever going to make it. No one's going to answer the phone. No one's ever going to give you your first go. But when you do get that chance, it's pretty awesome.
I just feel really lucky. I don't think that I have anything the next person doesn't have. A lot of it comes down to right place, right time, right person for the job. I've always been a really big believer that two things have to align: you've got to have done the work and you've got to have the ability to walk through the door to get the job, but you've also got to be there when the door opens. And so if the door opens at the time that you're there, ready to step through, with the skillset — yeah, you grab it. But it doesn't always happen.
I look around at so many people in the industry who I have so much admiration for, and I think they could be doing so much more if they were given the chance. So I'm such a believer in giving people a go. I remember being really young and badgering my boss. My first job was at WIN Television in Canberra. Jane Fleming used to read the sport, and then when she left to go to the Commonwealth Games, I went to my boss and said: can I do the weather? He's like: well, you're a cadet journalist, you're 20, you've been here for five minutes. And I said: look, just give me a go. Put me on a Friday night. If I really bomb, we will never speak of this again — but just give me a go. And he did and I got the weather.
Then moving to Seven and badgering them, and then an opportunity came up to audition for Sunrise — just saying: please just give me a shot. Sometimes it's a case of you've just got to have someone that gives you a go and you can prove that you can do it. Or you can't — and that's okay. But that almost feels like the biggest challenge sometimes, doesn't it? Just having someone give you a chance. And if you're lucky enough to have that chance? God, grab it with both hands and run with it as fast as you can and hang on to it tight.
You've got to put yourself out there and get over yourself in order to have a go, and then be open to failure. And you've got to ask, I think. There's no point waiting for someone to tap you on the shoulder. Sometimes you've actually got to put your hand up and say: hey, have you ever thought about me? Because maybe they haven't. Back yourself. I've always thought: what's the worst that can happen? If I do something and I bomb it, at least I've tried. I can go away and get better and try again, or go and do something else. Apart from hurt pride, there's really not a lot that can go wrong.
STEPH: We can be quite vulnerable when we go off and have babies. You've always been so supportive and very quick to check in — thank you for that. What was it like when you were juggling work and babies and not getting much sleep?
MEL: It was bloody hard. I won't lie. And maybe that's why I do want to check in with others — because I wish I'd probably had a bit more support myself. Koshi was fantastic. We were doing Sunrise together and he was obviously a dad of four, very aware to a degree of some of the things I was going through. I started Sunrise when Nick was six months old, just finishing maternity leave. And then I had Talia while I was doing the program. And I only took a few weeks off to have her.
Then I came back and we had to go on the road every Friday for the first month of me coming back. Our wonderful boss at the time thought it would be great to take the show around the country. And I've got a three-week-old baby at home, I'm still breastfeeding, everything still hurts and everything is still leaking. It was really, really hard. I wish I'd had the guts to say no at the time, but obviously I didn't. You think you've got to do what you've got to do. Now I look back and I probably should have said no. But it was hard.
Look, there were good and bad bits. And I'm the sort of person that chooses to focus on the good. I'd get up at two o'clock in the morning and feed her, then go to work by four, do the job and get home. It meant that while my kids were in primary school, I could pick them up every day. While they were toddlers, I could spend the day with them. I was a shift worker, so it had advantages. Sure, I was tired for a decade and missed a hell of a lot of television — I only just started watching The West Wing recently. But you've got to look for the good. I always reminded myself that it was my choice to do it.
But I do feel very strongly that as a mum in that newsroom 20 years ago — I'm not saying I was the first by any means — there weren't too many other mums around. And let's be honest, it can be quite a competitive industry. Sometimes the last thing you ever want to do is admit a weakness or a chink in the armour. So you become this stoic person: I'll keep on doing it, I'll find a way, I'll manage. Which is dumb, really. But I don't know how I would have done it differently.
For probably a good decade of my life, it was just: you get up early, you go to work, you come home, you do your home job, you get up and you go and do your paid job, then you come back and do your home job. And I wouldn't swap it for anything. Loved it all, but it was really gruelling.
So I feel for any mum who is trying to juggle the two. Sometimes we don't actually have enough compassion and tenderness and support for them. We're all made aware of the non-mums in the office who could sometimes resent mums. And I used to think: if only you knew. Because you always get the work done. You just find another time to do it. You put the babies to bed at night and then you're sitting up at some stupid hour getting it done. Once I became a mum, I learnt to manage my time in a way that makes me wonder what I did wasting the previous 30 years. Suddenly you can do seven things at once in four minutes, you don't procrastinate.
But yeah, let's not kid ourselves. It's really hard. I remember jumping on the conference call with you at 5pm as a producer — who seriously chose to do a conference call for an hour at 5 o'clock? I've got two toddlers! I used to put the earphones in, put my apron on with the front pocket, slip the Blackberry in there, put it on mute, and either be cooking dinner or bathing the kids. And I probably shouldn't confess this, but the number of times I'd rock up to work the next morning at four o'clock, look at the rundown, and go: oh. We're interviewing the Prime Minister. I must have missed that part of the call.
There were times I felt like I was just on autopilot, thrown into the mix being tired and a tad hormonal. Oh God. But I always felt supported by colleagues, by all you guys, and by Koshi. And Nat was going through the same thing I was. Knowing we had each other's back was a really good feeling — not being in it alone. So seek out the people who will support you in more than just words and hang on to them tight.
And that's why as I became more senior, I felt it was really important to reach out to younger women and say: hey, how are you going? If you want to chat, I'm here. Because I probably would have been too scared to ask someone when I was young. So I thought: I'll just flip it around and be the big brave one now.
STEPH: Can we talk about confidence? Is this something you've always had? Have you had to work on it?
MEL: For me, it's always ebbed and flowed. There are times where my confidence is fine because I know what I'm doing. And there are other times where yeah, you doubt yourself.
If we're talking confidence on air, it's all about preparation. I will always go into a situation as prepared as I can. I'll always have my notes, always have done the research. If I have to sit up all night and sacrifice sleep to be prepared, I'll do that. Even now talking to you — I sat down earlier with a coffee and scribbled some notes in case I draw a blank halfway through. If you've done your research, you've got everything in front of you, you know your topics — you're okay. That's usually where I've felt comfortable. The times I've got more nervous on air have been when I'm not fully across what I've got to talk about, or when I feel like I'm making it up as I go along. There have been a lot of those moments too.
You can't go and run the 200 metres at the Olympic Games if you haven't trained. You've got to put the work in. You're paid to turn up on time, be ready, be prepared — dressed properly, know your content, and be ready to go. The glossy few minutes a viewer sees on air is only the little tip of the iceberg. There's so much that goes on behind the scenes — brilliant producers gathering it all together, handing it from person to person until it gets to the person who takes it to air live. We get the glory moment, but everyone thinks we've done all the research and all the work, and they don't know about this amazing team behind us. You're only as strong as your weakest link. Every single person has to turn up and bring their A game, and then it works.
STEPH: Do you get nerves speaking in front of an audience?
MEL: I actually love the thrill of live rolling coverage where it's happening in front of me and I've got to go with it. There is nothing like that feeling. I'll never jump out of a plane or parachute, but maybe that's my equivalent. I always bring it back to: I've got a role to play, I've got a job to do. My job is to be the representative of our viewers at home — to tell them what's happening, why it matters, what they need to know, what it looks and sounds and smells and feels like. That gives you a role to play, which I think adds to confidence.
But there have been some moments over the years where I've been a little more nervous. Public speaking or hosting — oh God. I remember doing one at the Australian War Memorial. Whenever I'm emceeing or get up on stage, I've always thought: I can crack a joke, what's the worst that can happen? Because when people are in an audience watching someone on stage, most of them are sitting there going: oh my God, I could never do that, I'd be so nervous. Inside their hearts, they are cheering you on. And even if you make a mistake up there and you admit it — don't gloss over it, don't pretend it didn't happen. You drop your notes on the ground, you've got to go with it. Everybody in the audience is usually cheering you on. My fallback has always been: I'll just confess. I've lost my spot, I've forgotten what I'm talking about, I've dropped my notes. Make a joke about it and move on.
Then I remember hosting this incredible event for the Australian War Memorial when they announced their expansion plans. In the Great Hall in Parliament House — massive room, huge screens, the Prime Minister there, the head of defence, all the big wigs. Oh my God. I seriously thought my heart was going to burst a rib and pop through my chest. The palpitations, thinking: I'm going to fall over, why did I wear slingbacks, I'm going to fall up the stairs, and what if it all goes to poo? Because I can't crack a joke in an environment like this. You get yourself so worked up. And then I thought: alright, just get a grip.
I've always found that the moment I've started, I'm okay. It's that build-up when you're standing to the side of the stage and everyone's going: are you okay? Have you got everything you need? And you just feel like saying: go away and leave me alone, because it makes it worse. But once I'm on stage and we start, it usually settles down. I still get those moments. But I think it's good — it's exciting. I'd hate to ever just waltz on in without being driven by that adrenaline rush. You know you're alive. You're not just phoning it in.
I remember covering the election of Pope Francis — rocking up every couple of hours outside the Vatican, waiting for the puff of white smoke. And literally everybody would rush down to St Peter's Square and the place would just pulse with people, this living, breathing mass of excitement. Standing on the edge, reporting and counting down, looking for the smoke. You thrive off that energy. My job is made so much easier because I can describe what's happening around me and tap into all of those senses. And it does feel like this living, breathing report that is live. I don't mind when things are a little bit ropey — when you hear normal noises, a dog bark, a car horn, it doesn't go smoothly. Personally, I don't mind that because it feels real. It's what happens.
Like I remember reading a news bulletin once and part of the set fell off in the middle of my intro. As if I was just going to ignore it when everyone at home would be going: what on earth was that crash? So I made some gag about WestConnex tunnelling through and clearly just cracking it to the other end. You've got to make reference to it. Own it, go with it, and then everyone at home goes: oh ha, that's what the noise was, and you move on.
You're going to use the wrong word sometimes, you're going to stuff up, drop your notes, get someone's name wrong. Gosh, that's happened a few times.
And one of the biggest challenges over the years has been not to get too emotional covering certain stories. Some have made me feel really, really torn up and I've got teary. There have been times I've had to remind myself I've got a job to do. Get a grip and keep it together. And you've got to keep your own emotions and your own bias out of things. I'm often more interested when I'm interviewing someone I'm not necessarily a fan of. I remember going to Miami to interview Bernard Tomic, just after he'd done that big Wimbledon speech when the whole country was ready to lynch him. I was so fascinated by him — deep down, not necessarily a fan, but that made me really curious to find out who he was and what made him tick. I found that so much more fascinating than interviewing someone I'd been fangirling over for ten years. Trying to keep all your preconceived ideas out of things and keep emotion out of stuff, not get overcome and overwhelmed.
STEPH: Now I really want to talk about your brilliant new Audible podcast, Age Against the Machine — the best name ever. You interview women from around the world about different cultural attitudes to ageing. Where did the idea come from?
MEL: Part of it sprang from approaching 50. So many people were asking me how I felt about it. And I was like: well, I don't know, I'm turning 50, it's a number. And I realised what a focus we can put on age. You have these milestones — you turn 21 and there are all these markers, as though you're meant to be feeling or looking a particular way. I became really fascinated by what we think about ourselves as we age, what others think about us, why some countries and cultures do it better, why some women are respected in some parts of the world more than others.
It was quite a personal journey but also deeply journalistic — lots of questions and interviewing. We cover everything from looks and body changes, to the wage gap and superannuation, to homelessness, women in leadership, First Nations women where the matriarch is seen as a very powerful figure.
We even talked about finding your bravery and your confidence. I interviewed Marcia Hines and she said she still gets stage fright occasionally. I had that moment of going: oh, thank God. That makes me feel so much better. Because you're Marcia Hines. Why, as we get older, do we stop doing certain things? Why do we stop having fun and jumping in puddles and riding skateboards because we're so worried we're going to break something?
The word invisibility popped up a lot. Some women said they felt invisible as they got older and it was a negative. Others felt invisible but saw it as a positive — they could have a conversation with a man and he was actually looking in their eyes, genuinely hearing them. They could use their voice, they could be heard. And I think that's something I've felt as I've got older. I've become more aware of what skills I have, what I can do to contribute, what my strengths and weaknesses actually are. It was a really fascinating conversation about how do you get older and feel good about it? How do you maintain purpose and meaning in your life?
STEPH: I just turned 40. I know I'm a young whippersnapper, but oh man. I hit 40 and I feel okay this week. But the week beforehand, my husband had to give me a kick up the bum. I was more worried about turning 40 than turning 50 for some weird reason. Like 40 just felt like — I could remember my mum turning 40. It felt like a number that for some reason changes everything.
MEL: But then you turned 40 and nothing changed, right?
STEPH: Exactly. Nothing changed!
MEL: That's really what helped with turning 50 — I kept thinking: well. I know we joke about 50 being the new 40, but I don't think 50 today is what it might have been a generation or two ago. Nor is 40. It's all about how you feel. We're well nowadays. We're strong, we're fit. We still want to wear high heels. We don't have to go down the path of the orthopaedic dresses and comfy sandals from the chemist just yet. So yeah, it's all good.
STEPH: What can we do here in Australia to do things better when it comes to ageing?
MEL: I think it's about ensuring that those who are more vulnerable are supported. I'm very aware that my ageing journey is privileged. I'm educated, I'm in a relationship, I have the capacity to earn, I have a roof over my head, I'm healthy. I can tick so many boxes that will make my ageing more positive. So I think it's my responsibility to ensure that those who aren't so fortunate are looked after.
Superannuation is such a major issue — women retire with less than half the super of men. The wage gap still exists. And although a lot of industries have matched male-female wages and cry from the mountaintops about how wonderful they are — well, it's the law. They have to. But there's still a gap in remuneration, areas still falling through the cracks.
There are a lot of women who find themselves in situations where maybe a relationship breaks up. We met one woman who was living in her car. She could have been my friend — similar age, two children, similar background. She'd been in a relationship, had some debts, and when the relationship ended she didn't have enough money to pay a bond to get an apartment. And because she still had a job, she couldn't access the services she needed. She couldn't get anywhere to stay or into a refuge. She was in this weird limbo. That was a pretty shocking thing to learn.
Financially, we need to ensure women aren't in a position where they have to sleep in their car. And of course, lockdown is making things a lot worse. Women are predominantly the ones juggling kids and work. And in the last budget, older women were the group that seemed to miss out the most of all.
When a company downsizes — and we've seen a lot of that in the last few years — women 50 plus is the first group to go. And it's usually 52 that seems to be the magic number. And yet I'm 51, my kids are grown up, they both drive, they don't need me the way they did ten years ago. I still feel well and healthy and vibrant and I have my full skillset. If anything, women of that age have probably got more to give because they have the time.
But at 52, a man is often looking at the prime CEO role or the big promotion. Because he's had however many years of accumulated experience. And I think: I'd like to think I'm a better journalist than I was 20 years ago. So why, as women get older, does it become an issue? These are conversations we need to be having in society. We need to be talking about it more and ensuring that women who have done so much and contributed so much — particularly a woman who stepped out of the workforce to raise her children and perhaps also cared for her parents or her partner — don't find themselves in a precarious financial situation. Because we still want women to be carers. A lot of men still want their wives to be at home or look after the parents. But then women get held back because of it. It just doesn't add up.
STEPH: Just before we wrap up — was there a style of ageing you uncovered that was most appealing? Are you heading to Ghana?
MEL: I want to be an African queen in Ghana. They were amazing. I think it came down to recognising what you still have to contribute, what you have to give. Mentoring came up as a really important theme — and not just in the traditional workplace sense, coffee with a younger female. There are so many ways we can be leaders, unofficial leaders: guiding and mentoring your own children, somebody else's, a friend's, within a community. The African queen we interviewed educates young women in her society about going and getting an education, taking care of your family, staying healthy.
For me, it came back to: if you can still recognise what your contribution can be and find a way to use your voice — and if anything, you can probably use it in ways you couldn't when you were younger. I look at young women like Grace Tame and Brittany Higgins, using their voice to agitate for change. Would I have had the guts to do what they're doing at 26? Probably not. But now at 51? I'll stand next to you and give you the strength and support you need. And I'll help in any way I can.
We need to be really mindful of what we can do to contribute and support one another. Back each other. Find a way. There's always going to be a channel or something through which you can use your voice, your skillset, everything you've accumulated over however many years you've been on this planet. Find a way to use them and feel like you can still contribute.
STEPH: Mel Doyle, what an absolute treat. Thank you so much. It's so nice to see your face. And what you're doing comes to the very core of what we're talking about — supporting other women, giving them help and advice and tips. We just need to do more of that.
MEL: A lot of people talk about it, but not everyone does it. So you are. Full credit to you. Thank you. I'll see you soon.
STEPH: Can't wait. See you!
And We're Rolling is hosted by Steph Hunt and produced by Stephanie Hunt Media and Habari Productions. You can follow us on Instagram and Facebook. If you like this podcast, please subscribe, rate and review. Join me next week. Thanks for listening.
