Committing to Communicating

Somewhere around 2015, the existential terror of hearing a colleague enthusiastically announce, “I want to start a blog,” gave way to the similarly bone-chilling, “I’d like to start a social media account.” I suspect that AI may take this phenomenon into new flop-sweat-inducing frontiers.

Creating a new channel for an individual or a program can follow a familiar trajectory that too often ends with an abandoned account. You know the kind: the one that bears the school’s name and logo but has login credentials lost to history.

It is laudable when a school acts on the instinct to assert its story and proactively shapes a narrative to lead the conversation. That instinct, though, should always be paired with a sober examination of the sheer effort required to create and sustain something of value for your audience.

I worked with a few heads of school who wrote weekly blurbs that were incredibly effective. They beautifully wove personal stories with deep insights about the school, the state of education, and the world outside of the school. Every constituency read the blurbs for a glimpse into how the school’s leader saw the community, and for reassurance that the school was in steady hands.

One of these heads told me now and again that writing the blurbs was an albatross. In an attempt to be helpful, I offered alternatives such as ghostwriting them myself or recruiting a rotating cast of authors to make the task more manageable. These offers were always politely declined because this head understood how the community benefited from the missives, even if they were a burdensome undertaking.

That kind of focused, audience-first perspective can be elusive in the excitement of starting something new. But “new” and “meaningful” are not always synonymous. Put more directly, we have to work hard to make sure that new platforms are launched with sustainable plans. Otherwise, we risk drawing eyes to a pending, conspicuous silence.