Nothing was subtle about the makeover endured by my friend, then a newbie to broadcast journalism.</p><p>We were paired up several years ago; her as the newly minted MU journalism graduate, me as the more senior reporter. Our matchup was through a national program to place experienced reporters at the disposal of new ones, from their last year of college through the first several years of their professional lives.</p><p>I&#8217;ve thought a lot about her lately. About how her career will fare as she ages.</p><p>Most here know of the lawsuit filed recently by three of the most prominent female TV reporters in Kansas City. Maria Antonia, Peggy Breit and Kelly Eckerman have sued KMBC, alleging age and gender discrimination.</p><p>It seems broadcast journalism views women as aging products, rather than highly experienced and therefore valuable talent.</p><p>I could name a story each of these women has done faster than I could recall their latest apparel or current hairdo. But it would be ludicrous not to admit that how women look on TV is far more scrutinized than men, regardless of age.</p><p>In her early 20s, my mentee was beautiful in ways society usually favors: deep expressive eyes, high cheek bones, a trim figure, long shiny brown hair, the most gleaming white of smiles.</p><p>But the attributes weren&#8217;t good enough. She worked in broadcast journalism, a far different field from print journalism, where, if anything, reporters who are a bit disheveled are more the norm.</p><p>For television, appearance meant everything. At times, it seemed more important than the stories she produced during her first years as a reporter.</p><p>I&#8217;ll spare her the embarrassment of using her name.</p><p>Every time she has changed stations, she has moved up in prestige. But each new boss demanded a new look for her.</p><p>One time, she came for a weekend visit sporting a rather a bowl-shaped, lacquered hairdo. It was far shorter and boxier than what she preferred. Her makeup was heavy, the spatula effect. Her skin was breaking out and she knew it was because of the heavy layers of product she applied daily.</p><p>&#8220;You don&#8217;t look like yourself,&#8221; I remember remarking.</p><p>&#8220;I know,&#8221; she replied.</p><p>But for her, looking a certain way was a job requirement. Like meeting a deadline is for me.</p><p>Yet I&#8217;ve always wondered how much of her spirit was neutralized by the fussing to make her &#8220;fit&#8221; the profile that different news directors demanded. As a young journalist, she seemed to be expected to shift to every news director&#8217;s whim.</p><p>To be fair, several young men just entering TV news and involved in the same mentoring program were also highly groomed by their station managers. But their re-dos always seemed more like suggestions, not orders.</p><p>My mentee went on to work in several markets &#8212; working in Spanish language and English newscasts. A quick Google search pops up her latest award: an Emmy nomination in September.</p><p>I&#8217;ve crossed paths professionally with all of the women suing KMBC.</p><p>But I&#8217;m not in a position to judge all aspects of their work. As with all such cases, there may be behind-the-scenes issues the general public is not privy to. Not known are if any personality or work issues affected how management views them.</p><p>Suffice it to say, though, that how their appearances are judged is at least part of the issue here. And that has nothing to do with the quality of their work.</p><p>One letter-writer to <em>The Star </em>had this response to the lawsuit: &#8220;In support of Maria Antonia, Peggy Breit and Kelly Eckerman, we are no longer watching any news broadcast on KMBC.&#8221;</p><p>It&#8217;s an understandable first response. Except that by turning off the station, viewers are also turning off Maria, Kelly and Peggy. And that is the last thing they need right now.