A Learner’s Way

About two years ago I joined a local church choir.   Why?  Three reasons:  I like to learn new things that will push me.  I enjoy the sound of our choir, and, while I don’t have a particularly strong singing voice,  a fellow parishioner said the choir could use another alto voice.

People joining choirs such as  the  Toronto Mendelssohn Choir likely have to audition. Not the case with my choir.  I just showed up one evening and squeezed into a row of altos and tried to catch on to the drill. No one gave me any instruction, save, “your binder of music is over there.”

After about two practices I quickly learned:

• breaking into a long established group isn’t easy;
• knowing how to read music is a definite advantage (which I didn’t have);
• blending your voice with those on either side and behind yours is absolutely critical.

Our choir, led by a dedicated, patient, energizing choir director,  has been together for many years.  As the “newbie”  I was expected to have several pieces of music organized alphabetically in a binder.  I had no time to fumble when the director called out “Pie Jesu”.  That was my first lesson:  get organized.

The second lesson was to try to stop comparing myself with fellow choir members.  For example, there’s no way I was ever going to be as organized as the alto to my right.

She likes to keep her sheet music in a binder with individual plastic sleeves.  She prefers to be just a hair’s breath ahead of all of us when our director calls out the next piece of music for rehearsal. She’s also on her feet the fastest when he asks us to sing standing up. It’s important for her to be first and to be right.  That’s the least of my worries.

I also discovered that being in the choir isn’t (initially) about making friends.  You have to prove yourself first.  That means:

• showing up on regularly for our weekly 1.5-hour practices;
• showing up on Sunday on time, gowned and ready to go;
• doing your best to keep up with what’s going on.

The first few practices were really hard.   I struggled to sort my music, stay on key, follow along and anticipate what the director was going to ask us to do next.

On either side of me members often took out their pencils to “mark up” their music when our director decided to vary it. Not only was I was pencil-less, all I knew was that some notes were high, some were low, some were long or short.   That would have to do.

Very anxiety producing.  To feel so inadequate.  Especially as most of the members knew the music by heart yet tackled each piece as if it  was the first time they’d sung it.

However, by about week four, the alto on my left (a Chartered Accountant with a very dry sense of humour who, unfortunately, dropped dead suddenly about 16 months later), said to me,  by way of a compliment:  “at least you’re not flat.”

Wow!  I had arrived.

So, here I am dozens of practices later with a few brilliant spring concerts and Midnight Masses under my belt and here’s what  I’ve gained:

• a sense of mastery over some unfamiliar, complicated music;
• new friends;
• membership in a marvellous community (that’s very much what a choir is);
• a Thursday night routine that’s become familiar and comforting.

But, I still can’t read music.

In June 2009, I retired from full-time teaching after more than 20 years with virtually the same employer.

I haven’t blogged since.

Why?  I started A Learner’s Way to share my ideas about adult learning principles.  I framed these reflections mostly around class activities with my PR students.

So, when I took early retirement, I figured I really couldn’t continue to write about this topic.  How could I?  I was no longer in the thick of things.

Slow learner that I am, it just hit me.  A Learner’s Way can still be about learning.  My learning.  How I continue to learn.  What learning takes places every day, in many ways.  Large.  And small.

Here’s what I’ve learned since I stopped teaching:

1.  I know myself well.  I knew I’d never be content to just sit around. And, sit around I haven’t done in the past nine months.

2.  I need to make a meaningful contribution, using my God-given talents.  So, that’s the kind of work I’ll seek in the future.

3.  I savour the luxury of taking longer walks, joining that extra fitness class, taking long lunches and volunteering to serve homeless people lunch.

4.  I’m sometimes uncertain about how to describe myself to strangers.  Am I “a retired college professor of PR”, or “a communicator doing some freelance writing” or “a communicator who intends to land part-time work?”

5.  I enjoy attending professional events where I’m not out to impress anyone (or land a Field Placement for a student.)

6.  I very much miss coaching and mentoring optimistic 23-year-old PR students.

7.  Sunday nights, without a stack of assignments to mark and without the gut-wrenching feeling of “what am I going to do in class tomorrow?” are absolutely freeing.

Now I enjoy lingering over some of my favourite blogs:  Sift, Dust and Toss, Sur La Table and Bakers Journal.

And, I continue learning at George Brown College’s Centre for Hospitality and Culinary Arts.  Upcoming blog posts will feature how I learn as a part-time 50-something student in a fast-paced, physical baking lab.

If this shift in direction makes sense to you, let me know.

If not, I’m surely open to suggestions for a new blog name and new direction because, after all,  I’m always learning.

I’ve recently returned from Washington, D.C. where I was one of only 120 guests of Edelman PR at the New Media Academic Summit 09.

Joining the ranks of this group of highly respected American educators felt quite heady.  After all, here I was, one of only two or three Canadians in attendance—a lowly B.A. working at a Toronto-based community college—among mostly PhDs teaching at some of the most influential American universities like Columbia, Northwestern and Loyola.

One of the aspects of the Summit I really looked forward to finally meeting PR academics  I had only known via their blogs and tweets.  Teachers like Karen Russell whose blog Teaching PR is so instructive and innovative and Barbara Nixon of Georgia Southern University and PR Matters.

I wasn’t disappointed:  both Karen and Barbara were what I expected:  open, thoughtful and interesting: very much like their on-screen personalities. Which is exactly the way it should be.

Some random thoughts and impressions of my time at the Summit:

• as I sipped a cocktail on the rooftop terrace of Newseum with its panoramic view of Washington, D.C., (and location right next door to the Canadian Embassy) I discovered that the the U.S. academic I was speaking to was educated in Scarborough, Ontario.Why’s that significant?  In a former life, I was the Communications Officer for the Scarborough Board of Education.
• During our conversation, he told me he was an Anson S. Taylor Award winner.  At the Board, part of my job as head of communications was to publicize the winners of this award.  I assured him that Mr. Taylor had been an extraordinary director of education whom I was proud to know.  It was one of those “isn’t the world truly small?” moments that added to the surreal effect of the evening.
• If attendees didn’t know that social media (Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, blogs, podcasts, webcasts, etc.) have changed forever how to practice corporate communications and public relations then they surely would realize this at the end of the Summit as speakers repeated it over and over.
• Some of the ear and air space was taken up with discussing: “Is journalism as we know it dead?.” This struck me as odd.  In my academic environment, PR is one track, journalism the other:  the programs rarely interact with one another.  Not so at many U.S. academic institutions.
• When my Summit colleagues learned I was a Canadian, virtually everyone, to a person, had something complimentary to say about my beloved country.  They told me:  “I absolutely love Toronto,” or, “I went to school at Concordia University in Montreal and I think your country is great!“, or, “I love Banff Springs.” This was incredibly heart-warming and filled me with a great deal of pride.
• Two or three sessions stood out for me:  Employee Engagement:Encouraging New Conversations with Susan Bishop of GE, Jason Greenspan of McDonald’s and Jack Bergen of Alcoa.  I also got lots out of Crowdsurfing : Engaging Consumers (or, the consumer is boss). I especially enjoyed Starbuck’s Alexandra Wheeler, Director of Digital Strategy contribution to this panel.

Random quotes that made their way into my notebook: 

• “Let’s not get hung up on technology–let’s see how we can use technology to communicate.”
• “Educating students in SM is almost unnecessary; they live with it each day.”
• “The concept of spokesperson is archaic in the SM world; people want to hear from the actual expert.”
• “Reaching out to the real people, rather than the journalist, gives you a better sense of what your publics need and want.”
• “People turn to information from ‘people like themselves’ because they don’t trust information from us (big health care companies.)”
• “Our biggest challenge as communicators:  how do you let go of control of your message?”
• “Our role is to help people make good decisions about how to use the SM tools.”
• “Social Media is NOT FREE!  It takes many years, and staff resources, to build up goodwill before you go into the SM channels.”

Thanks Edelman PR for providing the opportunity to explore, learn and think.

Many of my grads, students (and me) use Twitter. It make sense. We’re communicators and micro blogging is what lots of people in PR use now.

I signed about about a year ago and quickly dismissed it as a time waster.  However, in the past few months I’ve made quite a bit of use of it.

I mostly follow local PR people, my grads, PR educators and current students.  I don’t get hung up on how many I’m following or how many follow me.

For those new to Twitter, The Newbie’s Guide to Twitter is a good place to start.  (I likely should have read this well before now. )  But, I sort of muddle my way through learning new things. That’s my style.

Here’s what I’ve observed/learned over the past few months:

• downloading Tweetdeck helps me manage my tweets
• I’m privy to far too many tweet conversations that have little substance
• I don’t care to know what my professional colleague is making for supper
• my fellow PR educators are a very generous group (and smart too!)
• many of my grads appear to have lots of time on their hands for tweeting
• as in high school, there seems to be a bit of an “in crowd” thing happening among followers
• the emotion (and insults) one can pack into 104 characters is quite something
• students who venture into this space and use it wisely are quite smart: they’re carving out a competitive space.

The other thing I’ve noticed?  All this communicating is exhausting.  Twitter. Facebook. LinkedIn. E-mails.  Presentations.  Voice mail. The occasional fax. One-on-one conferences with students.  Telephone calls.

Some days, I’d like to just stop communicating.

Thank you, Mitch Joel, for your super blog post Six ways to find your love and passion.

Great advice for students or anyone setting out.

Ideal messages for Valentine’s Day, too.

Hanging Onto Your Job offer some really good tips for anyone who has a job and plans to keep it.  I think the tips apply to life in general, especially the one about keeping a positive attitude.

Educators working with college students need an abundance of positive attitude and optimism these days.  They need to counter the negativity that’s out there concerning job prospects.  Students have enough on their plates and need to believe they can succeed.

I’m not suggesting we don’t let students know the market is very, very competitive.  Or, that the likelihood of landing a full-time PR job right away is very slim.  Or, that they’ll need to offer something that all the other PR grads aren’t offering.  I just think part of my role is to encourage and to trust in their latent talent and potential.

I believe each of my students has something to offer a future employer.  The first step for many is to see if they can land an eight-week Field Placement internship.

They’ve written their resumes and covering letters. They’ve purchased their “interview outfits.”  They’re anticipating what questions they’ll be asked by (they hope) their future supervisor.

I like to imagine them all doing well.  Answering the questions just right.  Making a memorable (positive) impression.  Making it hard for the organization to choose among a number of bright candidates.  Then, getting offered just the right match.

In reality I know some students won’t get matched right away.  They’ll take a bit longer to land that ideal placement.

But, that doesn’t stop me from feeling optimistic and hopeful.  My experience tells me they will do well.

Heading into week four of our winter semester.  It’s been hectic, especially for my second semester students whose focus is primarily on:  “where will I secure my Field Placement internship?”

While we do lots here on campus to held them secure that internship, many look to online resources to help them get in the right frame of mind to either search for a spot or get some tips about succeeding.

Some resources that might help:

• from JobWeb, how to get into an internhship state of mind
• from All About PR, should you be a PR Intern?
• five secrets of PR internships
• from Time magazine, a survival guide for summer interns

Organizations generally expect PR interns to exhibit:

• a willingness to contribute
• initiative
• genuine interest in whatever assignment they’re given
• a “can do!” attitude
• confidence in themselves and their ideas.

Of course they expect a PR intern to arrive with solid writing and thinking skills, an ability to supply relevant research quickly, knowledge of the media and strong organizational skills.

But, in my experience, the interns who arrive with a positive attitude get the most out of their placements, even if they’re unpaid.

This market is unforgiving.  (In recent weeks, I’ve learned of several senior level communicators who’ve been given layoff notices. They tell me there’s absolutely nothing out there for communicators of their rank.)

But, for interns, perhaps there’s a chance they can impress enough to at least get a paid contract or a lead for that first full-time, paying job.

They need all the help they can get. If you’ve got some tips, pass them along–especially if you’re a recent PR intern, now a working communicator.

I’m glad 2008 is over and done with.  Not a stellar year for me personally or professionally.

So, as 2009 begins I look for inspiration in many places.   Found some in one surprising (for me) source–Ellie Tesher’s December 31, 2008 column in the Toronto Star.  I liked very much how she advised:  Greet the people you meet day-to-day with a ready smile, unforced politeness and respectful patience.

Also, thanks to Steve Rubel, I found 12 Changes for 2009.  It has some great tips and links to a number of excellent, easy online resources to help me get organized, eat better, manage my finances and redo my resume.

To this, I’ll add my 12 changes for 2009:

1.  Think more positively.

2.  Don’t take things so seriously.

3.  Know you can handle things.

4.  Be open to new experiences.

5.  Judge less; learn more.

6.  Drink water regularly.

7.  Exercise more.

8.  Quit buying junk magazines.

9.  Eat only when hungry.

10.  Find something to laugh about every day.

11.  Think, then act.

12.  Realize no one ever hits a home run each and every time they’re up to bat.

To my infrequent followers: let’s read about changes you want to make for 2009.

Our faculty worked flat out this semester to provide a number of rich learning opportunities for students.  Included in these efforts were field trips to Canada NewsWire, the National Post, Porter Novelli Canada a local NDP constituency office.  They also invited in a number of guest speakers to share their wisdom and experiences.

Guest speakers included a CBC National news anchor, the president of CPRS Toronto, recent graduates of  the program and a woman who overcame great odds to run a successful business.

In designing a course for maximum learning, it’s always wise to try to measure the effectiveness of each course component.  So, how do you measure the value of field trips and guest speakers?

In my experience, very few students will forward a spontaneous e-mail or voice mail to say:  “Gee!  Great speaker today; I learned a lot!” or “Thanks for organizing that field trip; it was really instructive.”  So, how to measure?  I’ve tried a number of things, including a questionnaire at the end of the semester asking students to rate the value of their guest speakers.  And, of course, I’ve just asked their opinions face-to-face.  Generally, most students are quite polite and will say guests were just fine.

But I’d surely like some ideas on how to more accurately gauge just how much learning actually takes place after students have listened to a guest speaker or returned from a field trip.

Specifically, I’d like to know:

• how “sticky” is the information gained during a field trip? can they use the information when they get back to class?
• why is it that when a credible guest speaker offers advice to students that’s identical to that of their instructors, it resonates so much more?
• do students consider content from guest speakers and field trips as relevant at that from their assigned curriculum?  Or, do they remind them of grade school when it just felt like a relief from the same old, same old classroom routine?

All thoughts welcome.

Dave Fleet, one of our most provocative presenters at Talk is Cheap,  makes the point that quality matters in all of the work we produce.  He so right.

I’m thinking about Dave’s advice as I mark a pile of major assignments.  For the most part, they’ve quite good and I sense most students took the time to quality check them.

About the only thing I’d add:  when you hand something in, make sure it goes even farther than you’ve been asked.

Anyone can follow an assignment’s specifications.  Going a little bit extra, digging for just a bit more information from your subject or checking that obscure source for just the right bit of arcane information, takes the ordinary into the realm of the extraordinary.

That’s what earns (deservedly) the A+. (And the proofreading, and meeting your deadline, and ensuring your information is correct, etc.)