You know it’s a good idea to stay away from jargon, or what I like to call the “secret handshake” between insiders. Sadly, many people (many of them in high places) do not. My guest post at Advantis Communications is a reminder of why it’s a good idea to ditch the jargon.
You may recognize this road sign, which I have borrowed from the Ontario Ministry of Transportation’s helpful guide to common and not-so-common road signs. It means there’s a bump or uneven pavement on the road ahead. The yellow “caution” indicates drivers should slow down and keep control of their vehicles.
There’s a bump coming up in the road ahead of me, too. I’ve decided to go back to school.
Oh, it seemed like a good idea back when I applied to Royal Roads University earlier this year. This is kind of a “bucket list” thing; something I have wanted to do for a long time. My own children are close to completing their own degrees, and they are pretty self-sufficient. It seemed like a good time to pursue my own.
The degree I’m pursuing is a two-year online BA in Professional Communication. It’s set up so students “manage their education while maintaining work and family life” due to the “unique learning model that combines convenient web-based learning with short [three-week] on-campus residencies.”
So I find myself three weeks away from this on-campus residency, which is on the other side of the country in Victoria, B.C., up to my neck in work and wondering what on earth I was thinking.
I already have a stack of “work” work. Now I’ve added three textbooks to read and assignments to complete every week until I go. There are apparently 45 of us in this class of 2012, and we all had to introduce ourselves in three separate online discussion forums and comment on at least two of the other posts. We have to watch several videos and speeches and comment on those. My in-box overflows every day with an extra 30-50 messages because there appears to be no way to subscribe to the forums in digest form.
I’m having to work hard at not freaking out, too:
All of this to say that there is very definitely a big bump in the road ahead. Part of my attempt to slow down and keep control of the vehicle is sharply cutting back my online life outside of Royal Roads. I’ll try to blog occasionally and share what’s going on, and maybe I’ll get on Twitter or Facebook once in a while.
So it may seem like I’ve dropped off the face of the earth, but it’s just off the radar for now. See you in September, maybe!
Ontario and British Columbia are getting a new Harmonized Sales Tax, or HST, on July 1. The HST replaces the Goods & Services Tax that I now charge, so this will affect me. So I signed up about a month ago to receive technical bulletins from the government that would tell me things I might need to know.
Or not. The one today, on “Temporary Recapture of Input Tax Credits in Ontario and British Columbia,” summarized its contents in 105 words of dense governmentese!
Let’s see, how many of us can easily understand a sentence like that? 100% of readers can usually understand a sentence of eight words, according to the American Press Institute. (I couldn’t find a link to the study itself, but author and writing coach Ann Wylie references it.) Only 0-9% can understand a sentence of 43 or more words. I think we can guarantee that not many people will understand this without reading and re-reading it many times:
From July 1, 2010, until June 30, 2018, with the introduction of the HST in Ontario and British Columbia, large businesses – generally those making taxable supplies worth more than $10 million annually, and certain specified financial institutions – will be required to repay or “recapture” the portion of any available input tax credits (ITCs) that is attributable to the provincial part of the HST that becomes payable, or is paid without having become payable, in respect of a specified property or service that is acquired, or brought into one of these provinces, by a large business for consumption or use by that business in those provinces.
Faced with an indigestible paragraph like this, the writer/editor who wants to be kind to readers will use these tools:
Fortunately (or unfortunately, looking at those lost millions), I am not a large business, so I don’t have to understand that lengthy sentence, or the 28 pages that follow it. For the real scoop on what does apply to me, I’m attending a session tonight put on by the Halton-Peel Communications Association. You can be sure we won’t hear any 105-word sentences.
IABC/Toronto treated volunteers to a lovely appreciation event on June 16, a buffet dinner aboard the Jubilee Queen, a replica of a Mississippi paddlewheel boat. The weather had been iffy all day, but the sun came out as we lined up to board.
Having arrived early, my friend Donna Papacosta and I first toured the beautiful Toronto Music Garden. This charming space celebrates its 10th year this year, and I am somewhat embarrassed to say this is not only the first time I have visited it, it’s the first time I’ve even heard of it!
The space is the creation of renowned cellist Yo-Yo Ma and landscape designer Julie Moir Messervy. The garden has six “rooms,” each an interpretation of the traditional dance forms featured in Bach’s First Suite for the Unaccompanied Cello. For example, Courante is “an exuberant movement” interpreted in an upward-spiralling path through tall grasses and perennials, topped by a Maypole (the creation of Canadian artist Anne Roberts).
It’s a lovely, calm, inviting spot, and a fine example of communicating meaning in unexpected and inspiring ways. Even better, throughout the summer it showcases free concerts in the Music Pavilion (created by architectural blacksmith Tom Tollefson) every Thursday at 7 p.m. and Sunday at 4 p.m., weather permitting. The garden is located at 475 Queen’s Quay West, between Bathurst Street and Spadina Avenue in Toronto.
A Maypole tops the Courante "room" at the Toronto Music Garden. Look closely and you'll see a visitor doing her own interpretation of exuberant movement!
In all the excitement of the IABC 2010 World Conference last week, I forgot to point out the excellent Green Guide put together by IABC/Toronto’s Corporate Social Responsibility committee.
The guide is designed to provide “best practices, communications planning and success stories in green marketing communications, sustainable and corporate social responsibility (CSR) practices.” There are sources for vendors who provide ecologically responsible materials, tips for implementing environmental practices within an organization, a glossary of terms and examples of successful green campaigns.
The guide was written by my fellow Toronto independent Frances Roberts of Push Communications. Bernard Hellen, R.G.D., of traffic marketing + design inc., did the layout, and (ahem) I handled editing and proofreading. I’m torn between saying “tell me if you find any mistakes I missed” and “DON’T tell me”! Either way, I’d love to hear what you think.
Download a copy under “Green Guide” from IABC, or here: IABC/Toronto GreenGuide.
There are few things more intimidating in the photo world than a passport picture. Maybe it’s because you know it’s going to stick with you for at least five years, and the “neutral” expression you’re supposed to have will actually end up making you look grim and ill. In fact, you’ll look more like a terrorist than ever. And isn’t that just perfect, when everyone at the airport is already so touchy?
My passport expires this fall, so getting my photo taken is on my list of things to do. So I laughed when I found — through the serendipity of the web — this perspective, called Has Anybody Seen My Lost Looks? from Jenny Allen in More Magazine:
“The last time they took your two-by-two inch photo, back in the day, you were OK-looking, even in that ghoulish post office fluorescence. You didn’t think you looked OK at the time, but it turns out you were incorrect. You should have appreciated the medium-attractive looks you had…You could have taken pleasure in them! You could have used them to get people to sleep with you and buy you things!…Particularly in light of recent events. Recent events being that your looks seem to have gone away.”
The hilarious Colleen Wainwright aka Communicatrix also blogged about the endless preparation leading up to getting a passport photo taken, in the hopes of looking OK:
“I’d think about getting my passport photo taken, the first step in crossing ‘Renew (expired) passport’ off my list, and then I’d think, ‘Well, I’ll just wait until…’ Until my hair was freshly colored. Until my hair was having a good day. Until I’d figured out an outfit, and bought some makeup, and had had enough sleep. Until, that is, monkeys flew out of my ass. In formation. Typing Shakespeare.”
You may be wondering what communications has to do with passport photos, and yes, there is a link. I think we see ourselves based in part on the feedback we get. When we don’t get much in the way of positive feedback, we might think it’s because there is nothing good to say. More likely, it’s because others just aren’t thinking about your looks, or maybe they think you don’t need it.
For example, when I was on vacation recently, I met a strong, vibrant 60-something woman who really was beautiful, though perhaps not in the tiny, airbrushed model sense. She was absolutely floored when I told her so.
In the case of your corporate job, others expect you to do good work and you do; most times, they don’t think about complimenting or praising you for it. There’s a reason that employee surveys often show that management (sorry, “leadership” is the current buzzword) is doing a less-than-stellar job of reward and recognition.
So here’s an idea. Let’s all try to compliment people a little more. Express appreciation for work done well, even if you expect it, the person has never done anything BUT good work or it’s part of the job. Recognize when someone has gone out of their way for you.
And if all else fails, take heart that you really don’t look much like your passport photo, especially when you smile. So smile!
Well, this is exciting — I’m a guest blogger! Find out what I have to say about “inclusive language” in newsletters and other communications over at Advantis Communications. Oh, you know I have an opinion. Do you?
After a couple of days trying to access my client’s e-mail system without success — and with so much on my plate I had no time to deal with their IT support group — I happened to mention the problem to one of my contacts. It turns out the company’s IT department had changed the way remote users (like me) access the system.
My colleague forwarded what appeared to be a broadcast e-mail message to company employees. As someone using remote access, did I get a direct message? I can’t recall seeing one. And I certainly didn’t get a two-step warning, with a few weeks’ advance notice and a reminder a couple of days before the plug was pulled.
So that’s the “takeaway.” If you’re making a change that affects people who use your system, buy your product, visit your store, please tell them. Tell them more than once. Don’t make them find out by chance.
Having been away for a week, I’m a little nervous.
A few weeks ago, I managed to live through a day where no e-mail messages made it to my in-box. It took a while to find out, because I could send messages; but the replies didn’t make it through.
Of course, I had a satisfying chat with Bell’s customer service folks in another country:
Me [after visiting the Bell web site, which proclaimed its e-mail service was "available"]: I am not receiving e-mail.
Bell: Please do not worry. This is a problem on our end. Our server level technicians are already working on the problem and it will be fixed as soon as possible. We really appreciate your patience.
Me: Oh, then why does it say “this service is available” on the Bell site?
Bell: I apologize for the inconvenience caused to you. [Notice question not answered.] You will be able to send emails but there is a server issue which is causing a delay in receiving emails.
The problems lasted just the one day, but I feel compelled to add “as far as I know.” Because now, when I don’t receive a prompt response to an e-mail, I begin to wonder if the person sent it weeks ago, and is now getting cheesed off with me for lack of response.
All of this to say, please be sure to respond to people. If you don’t have the answer, a short note to acknowledge that you got the request and are looking into it is perfect. Even saying “I’m crazy busy, will answer some day” works for me. And if you didn’t get a reply within a day or two from a person who usually gets back to you quickly, there’s no harm in calling; sometimes that’s when you’ll find out he or she is away.
Or am I expecting too much?
“If you can read this, thank a teacher.” This is how a post linked to by my friend and colleague Joan Vinall-Cox began.
While blogger Ralf Schwartz suggested that the best way to thank your teacher is to teach others “by further developing what your teacher has taught you,” I think an equally excellent option is to say thank you.
And so I found myself digging through old report cards to remind me of the name of my grade 7 teacher. Mrs. McLelland was also the school librarian, and she recognized and nurtured my own love of reading by giving me first dibs on incoming books she thought I would enjoy.
I found a link to the school, which I attended for just that one year, on my high school web site. From there was a link to an e-mail address for Mrs. McLelland’s son. I sent him a note, sharing my fond recollection of her kind actions and asking about her. He responded promptly, telling me that sadly, she died in 2001, but she “would certainly be happy that she had a positive influence in your life, which I think is the goal of all good teachers.”
He added that her own first love was reading, something she had instilled in him and his eldest daughter, who was now teaching grade school.
I recalled that one of the books I enjoyed way back then was Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women. Thinking I might like to read it again, I took the book from my library shelf and found inside, in the handwriting of that shy 13-year-old, a note that Mrs. McLellan had given it to me at the end of that school year. How cosmic is that?
My point, and I do have one, is that if you have had a wonderful teacher who succeeded in touching and making a difference in your life, please let him or her know. Say thank you. The best teacher gift is not a mug that says “World’s Best Teacher” but the heartfelt note that describes how you’re a better person for having been in that particular class with that particular teacher. I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to tell Mrs. McLelland that, but something tells me that she knew.
