“I know I didn’t put a lot of effort into this but I am stuck for good ideas, please help.”

The team manager’s entreaty was sincere…and all too common. I’ve received countless written and verbal requests like this over the years, as have most of you, if you are a communications professional.

One possible response would be to allow myself a smug smile, and then to craft a well-written and designed communication piece. A harsher response would be to tell the team manager that I’m swamped, and leave him or her to create and send a communication that would provide the information they wanted to convey, just not as cleanly and clearly as they would want. A middle-ground approach would be to tell the team manager that I don’t have time to create the email, but I’m providing the general structure for the email, along with ideas for graphics and a headline. Then the team manager could get practice putting the pieces into place.

Which would be the “correct” response? They all could be “correct,” depending on other factors. However, I think a better question would be, “What is the team manager’s communication objective, and is this email an appropriate tactic to accomplish that objective”?

The team manager confused “good ideas” with “creativity.” Communications is part art and part science, as we use proven methodology to determine and measure the most appropriate communication objectives, and art in the writing and design of those communications.

This team manager wanted a creative communication that would grab employees’ attention. What he needed was to better understand that the best “good idea” I had to offer was to help him achieve his communication objective–although he would first have to be shown how to do that.

In the course of my work day, I get more opportunities than I could comfortably accept to enlighten coworkers about effective communication planning. I get many more requests to “pull a communication rabbit” out of my tactician’s hat.

I piloted a communication education course at work that I developed. The participants gave me top marks for my delivery and grasp of the content. They clearly saw me as a subject-matter-expert. They did want more time spent on the “how-to” part of communications.

In summary, I have many opportunities to share my communication experience and skills. But most of the people who have met with me to discuss a communication challenge or project don’t want to learn how to do it themselves; they either think they already know what to do, or they have thrown up their hands and want me to do it for them.

So I ask some questions, and use their responses as the basis of a conversation that probably won’t give them the immediate satisfaction they desire. Yet it will benefit them, and me, the most in the long-run.

For some reason, I’ve been thinking a lot more about my career and personal life, and what I should be doing with both.

I have one project that I need to continue with until it is completed. Everything else seems to be less important.

I also have been feeling that it’s time to step aside in the communication field, and not try to stay relevant with the latest generation of communicators entering the field. Many of them most likely don’t see me as being relevant anyway.

I also want to be free to talk about God, and faith, and things that matter to me, but that don’t matter to a lot of people.

Perhaps in a reaction to the tragic sights and sounds related to the Japan earthquake that I’ve seen during the past 24 hours, I made a conscious decision today to NOT be a “citizen journalist” when disaster struck in front of me.

I was driving along a busy back-road, heading home from an appointment, when a black SUV ahead of me spun into the oncoming traffic lane to our left, and struck a vehicle coming the other way. The SUV flipped over on impact and both vehicles skidded to a halt near the shoulder of the road.

I pulled over to the side of the road and immediately dialed 9-1-1. I watched other people scramble to each of the damaged vehicles, checking on the occupants. After providing the location and other details to the 9-1-1- operator, I got out of my Jetta TDI and started to head toward the SUV.

Right then, I noticed another person starting to hold up traffic on the other side of the accident. I decided to do the same on my side of the accident. We took turns alternating between holding up our lane of cars to allow the other person to signal their line of cars to move along the one open lane of traffic.

In a few minutes, I heard the sirens of approaching emergency vehicles and police cars. Once they arrived, I checked that they didn’t need my help, and then left.

As I was walking back to my car, I scanned the accident scene, focusing on the accident victims who were receiving medical treatment. For a brief moment, I thought about taking out my mobile phone and capturing some of the action.

That’s what a “citizen journalist” probably would have done. The images could be sent to the local media, or used on a blog post like this one. I would have received a photo credit, and maybe someone who knows me would tell me that they saw the photo. It’s happened before.

But like I said at the beginning of this post, two things kept me from taking those photos. The first was knowing that the Internet currently is overflowing with images and videos taken by witnesses to the largest earthquake to hit Japan in recorded history. We’ve seen enough death and destruction today, haven’t we?

The second was the momentary eye contact that I made with the middle-aged woman who sat next to the SUV, holding a bandage to her bleeding scalp, as a paramedic worked on her other injuries. She was dazed, and I felt that her expression as our eyes met was communicating something like, “Help, am I going to be okay”?

My journalism training taught me to disassociate myself from an event, so that I could view it with a lessened (I’ll never say complete lack of) personal bias. That would have helped me to snap a photo of the injured woman, even as she looked at me.

I didn’t do that this time. Instead, as I was driving home, I said a prayer for the people involved in the accident.

I think I helped them more that way, and the blogosphere won’t miss those photos very much.

Hmm, buy an iPad 2 or pay for my daughter’s driver education class. Does she really need to drive? Do I want her to “hate-text” me?

Limited budget = Limited Choices = Decisions, Decisions!

I had barely begun my work day last Thursday, when my mobile phone rang. It was Kim, who started the conversation by saying,

“The police just left. Before you freak out, don’t worry, both our kids are fine.”

Hard to believe that hearing THAT might “freak me out,” right? Kim’s opening salvo had done its job–I was now speechless and listening intently to her. (There’s a communication tip here, but let’s not stop to examine it just now.)

     Why would THAT freak me out?

As the details poured out of Kim’s mouth, the story reminded me of a bad sitcom plot–only it was true. The main characters in this true-life drama were Kim, my daughter, Caitlyn and her mobile phone, an adult leader in my church’s high school youth ministry, and the Gurnee Police Department.

Caitlyn was sitting in her school auditorium, watching a touring theatre company’s production of “Romeo and Juliet.” Her mobile phone was in a rear pocket of her jeans. What happened next is still under investigation (by me), but here are the undisputed portions of the next series of events.

• Caitlyn's mobile phone dialed the home phone of the adult youth ministry leader.
• The adult leader saw from her Caller ID that the incoming call was from Caitlyn. Although the leader wondered why Caitlyn would call her, she was even more concerned with what she heard from the other end of the phone call.
• The leader heard muffled, unintelligible talking, but soon heard loud yelling or screaming. Thinking that Caitlyn was in trouble, the adult leader hung up and dialed 9-1-1.
• The Gurnee Police Department responded to the 9-1-1 call by dispatching a squad car to my home, to ensure that neither Kim nor I were holding Caitlyn hostage. (Let the record show that A) Caitlyn was safely in school, and B) I appreciate the police department's policy, because it might save some other victim of a domestic dispute or home invasion.)
• After confirming that Caitlyn was not in danger at our home, the police officer contacted Caitlyn's school. In these situations, school officials need to verify that the child is, indeed, where she was supposed to be. By that time, Romeo and Juliet were both dead (perhaps that was the screaming that our youth leader friend had heard), and Caitlyn was at her next class. The school security guard confirmed Caitlyn's presence, and our excitement was over.