Category: higher education

On being relevant

A recent post by Andy Shaindlin on his Alumni Futures blog got me thinking about relevance. Andy’s post — about issues facing alumni relations in the year ahead — really struck a chord, especially the part about the relevance of alumni relations organizations in this era of budget reductions.

Andy wrote:

I’m concerned about “mattering.”

Senior administrators are questioning the relevance of alumni relations in the face of external and internal changes (i.e., competition for scarce resources). Will alumni organizations matter?

It’s an important question, and not just for alumni organizations. From my perspective as a communications director, the issue of relevance matters on several levels:

  • Mission. How relevant is our department’s mission to the institution’s? How about to our stakeholders? (Does our department even have a mission? And if so, do we al know what it is?) Then there’s the institution’s mission. How relevant is that to stakeholders and audiences? An organization’s communications and marketing staff ought to be conveying the institution’s mission to various stakeholders, right? So the relevance of institutional mission should set the tone for the institution’s messages, and thereby set the agenda for the communications/marketing office. Which leads to the next issue…
  • Messaging. How relevant are our organization’s messages to constituents? Are they connecting? Are the messages we (communications people) transmit in step with the organization’s mission? How well are we serving as the spokespeople for our organizations?
  • Delivery. What about the ways in which we transmit the messages? How relevant are our delivery systems? To reach our stakeholders, do we rely mostly — or even solely — on traditional vehicles, such as press releases, alumni magazines, newsletters and direct mail? Are those the best approaches? Should we consider mixing it up a bit — or even eliminating some old vehicles that our stakeholders no longer pay attention to?
  • Organization. Then there’s the ultimate relevance question we must ask ourselves: If your (my) organization were to suddenly cease to exist, would the institution still function as well as it does now? Would it matter? Answer that question honestly, and you should get a good idea of whether — and how much — your department or organization matters.

Lots of questions, I know. I hope you’re asking yourself some of them.

How do you plan to remain (or become) relevant in the changing world of 2010?

Marketing (and life) lessons from Martin Luther King Jr.

This post originally appeared on this blog last Martin Luther King Jr. Day under the title Media relations, taking the long view and other lessons from Martin Luther King Jr.. MLK Jr. Day 2009 also coincided with the eve of President Obama’s inauguration, so references to that event have been deleted in an attempt to keep this post relevant. I hope it gives you pause to reflect on how you live your life and approach your most meaningful work. – AC

As our nation honors the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. today with a national holiday, I pause to consider a bit how King’s worldview and moral stance against evil has influenced my own life. I’m in no way attempting to compare my life with King’s, for I’m no civil rights leader, no martyr, no leader of any consequence by comparison. But I’ve long admired King not only for his leadership in civil rights, but more for his clarity of vision in the sense of moral and spiritual matters, as well as his PR savvy. The fact that he understood and used mass media to his advantage should not be separated from King’s quest for justice and equality, but it does point to the man’s ability to use the tools and systems of the temporal world to further more idealistic goals, and that’s something any of us who work with the media ought to understand.

One of the most poignant (brief) commentaries on King’s life that I’ve read comes from Philip Yancey’s book Soul Survivor: How My Faith Survived the Church. Yancey was a good ol’ Georgia boy when the civil rights movement started gaining traction in the early 1960s.

“When I was in high school,” he writes, “the same students who cheered the news of President Kenedy’s assassination also cheered King’s televised encounters with Southern sheriffs, police dogs, and water cannons. Little did we know that by doing so we were playing directly into King’s strategy.”

That strategy, from a media relations standpoint, was brilliant, for it opened the nation’s eyes to the tragedy and brutality of racism. “He deliberately sought out individuals like Sheriff Bull Connor and stage-managed scenes of confrontation, accepting jail, beatings, and other brutalities, because he believed a complacent nation would rally around his cause only when they saw the evil of racism manifest in its ugliest extreme.

“In that goal,” Yancey writes, “King succeeded spectacularly.”

But separated from what Yancey calls King’s “long view of faith,” that media relations success would have rang hollow.

“Already convinced of the justness of their cause,” Yancey writes, the civil rights workers “wanted someone to lift their sights beyond the long string of disheartening failures.” King, with his long view that justice will triumph, was the man to do just that.

We now look back on the civil rights movement as a steady tidal surge toward victory. At the time, facing daily confrontations with the power structure and under constant intimidation from policemen, judges, and even the FBI, civil rights workers had no assurance of victory. We forget how many nights they spent in rank southern jails. Most of the time the present looked impossibly bleak, the future even bleaker. …

For King, the long view meant remembering that, no matter how things appear at any given moment, God reigns. Later, when the famous march from Selma finally made it to the state capitol, the building which once served as the capitol of the Confederacy and from which the rebel flag still flew, King addressed those scarred and weary marchers from the steps:

I know that you are asking today, “How long will it take?” I come to say to you this afternoon, however difficult the moment, however frustrating the hour, it will not be long, because truth pressed to earth will rise again. …

* * *

It seems the long view has been in short supply in our culture for many years. Witness what has happened on Wall Street, in our banking industry, and just about everywhere else you look in our culture, and you see the fruits of short-term, get-what-you-can-while-you-can thinking. Even in our educational system, sadly, the short view too often reigns. We live from fiscal year to fiscal year, from project to project. Even our long-range plans extend no further than five years out, and the goals are largely based on numbers, rather than the essentials King spoke of — the essentials of peace, justice and love.

What about us? Do we connect our day-to-day actions, our work? Our lives, to a greater, nobler cause? Those of us in higher education ought to. It’s pretty easy, really. We’re in one of the most noble pursuits there is. I’m fond of quoting William Butler Yeats, who supposedly said that “education is not the filling of a bucket, but the lighting of a fire.” On my better days, I like to think that what I do helps to fan those flames of knowledge.

I can’t say I’ve always done the best job of taking the long view, or for contributing to King’s ideal of a world in which peace, justice and love reign. But re-reading Yancey’s chapter on MLK has reinvigorated me and encouraged me to think more about the long view — in my job, in my life, in my other pursuits. I hope this post encourages you to do the same.