Public Relations focuses on long term, mutually beneficial relationships between organizations and their publics. Marketing focuses on products and services that respond to the wants and needs of consumers…to foster an economic exchange between an org and its consumers.
Advertising is a subset of marketing, focusing on persuasive communication through purchased media to promote a product, service or idea on behalf of an identified organization or sponsor.
Blah, blah. You know who could care less what we call “it?” Our publics. That’s what digital “convergence” is all about.
What our publics do care about is relevant and timely content that adds value to their digital lives. Digital marketers and advertisers are experts at building paid campaigns that can be tested, measured and tested again. They can easily report their contributions to the bottom line. PR has historically had a difficult time demonstrating how earned and shared media should be valued and reported.
Relationships + Profit = Success
In our quest to be the heart and soul of our organizations, our job as PR professionals is to ensure that campaigns focus on our publics, not the product. To surprise and delight. But we must never lose sight of the bottom line. Without profit, all the social capital and goodwill in the world won’t save the organization from bankruptcy court.
To ensure that we are building relationships while simultaneously making clear contributions to the bottom line, we must learn how PAID media works. This week’s HubSpot short course in digital advertising will show you how “to put the right content in front of the right people at a specific point in their buying journey, inspiring them to take the next step towards becoming a loyal customer.”
Let’s Work Together
For your second blog, scan the HubSpot article below, pick a campaign and tell me a story about how digital convergence is pushing all three disciplines [PR, marketing and advertising] to work together. Let’s all have a seat at the table.
In Digital Public Relations, we have this thing called New Media Monday (#NMM). Student account teams are charged with finding the latest and greatest technology and leading a brief discussion in class. We’ll kick of the semester with some old tech that’s getting a new lease on life thanks to Apple!
This question, unanswered, still hangs in the late August twilight.
Instead, the glare of oncoming headlights going way too fast, the crunch of metal. The sensation of spinning through space and time. I sit stunned in the passenger seat. Richard’s voice, “are you ok babe? Can you move?” My head rests against the airbag that kept my head from hitting the window, the pain of an impact so strong it spun us around like a child’s toy bringing me back to reality.
We all walked away, alive and whole.
Lucky. No broken bones, mild concussion, I’ve got this. Oh-so-naively, I gave myself the weekend, on Monday, it was business as usual. Start the day with a short run and my yoga mat. Take my son to school, teach my classes. Grade projects. Wine with friends. Dates with Richard.
Then the headaches. As the deep purple bruises faded to shades of pink and yellow, my injured brain began to wrap my body and soul in a thick layer of bubble wrap. I could see out, but everything was distorted. Mental fog. Nausea. Dizziness. Deafening tinnitus in my right ear. Memory lapses. Did I mention crippling headaches? My mild concussion turned into a “syndrome.”
Undaunted, I keep pushing…I just need time and space to heal, right? I rest on my office floor between student meetings. At home in bed by 6 p.m. most evenings. I resign from volunteer commitments, turn down all extracurricular activity. In just a few weeks, the word “no” is an unwelcome staple of my vocabulary. I felt weak and cowardly, like I was letting the whole world down. I start a “concussion” series of paintings to channel the anxiety I felt as my rogue brain became my enemy.
But nothing worked. Nothing. And it begins to sink in, I have a head injury. A numbness settled over me. I felt uninspired and inadequate. A college professor who can barely string coherent sentences together? A wannabe artist who has a panic attack when she picks up a brush? What now?
Panic replaces self confidence. I barely recognize myself. Emptiness where expression once lived. Did the accident knock the creativity out of me? Did a piece of my intelligence get lost in the twisted metal like my favorite pair of glasses that we never found?
A diagnosis of “post-concussion syndrome” is nebulous (or, more aptly, the most BULLSHIT diagnosis ever). There is no treatment or real prognosis. No promise of recovery. Each day brought new symptoms and challenges. Basic problem solving skills eluded me. A single trip to the grocery store exhausted me. A hypertensive crisis and emergency EKG finally got my attention. Eight weeks into the semester I yielded to my doctor’s orders, handed off my classes to colleagues and went home to (hopefully) heal.
Alone with my worries, I obsessed. What if I couldn’t go back to my old life? What if I was permanently impaired? I had so many dreams…to write…to paint…to develop social media courses…lead study abroad programs. What if?
Since my creativity was MIA, I settled for reading about my favorite artists and listening to books on tape and podcasts about people who had experienced TBI. Although I could not retain everything, as I learned about others who had parallel experiences with either physical or mental challenges, I was comforted. Not exactly optimistic, but no longer terrified.
Here are just a few of my “post-concussion” heroes. In one way or another, they overcame. They persevered. Instead of retreating, they created.
If you know me AT ALL, you know Frida Kahlo is and will always be an inspiration. The arresting pictures of Frida Kahlo (1907-54) were in many ways expressions of trauma. Through a near-fatal bus accidents at the age of 18, failing, health, a turbulent marriage, miscarriage and forced abortion, she transformed her afflictions into revolutionary art (Andrea Kettenmann).
Kahlo was forced to spend months confined to a bed, but continued painting using a special easel. She literally turned emotional and physical pain into art.
When game designer Jane McGonigal found herself bedridden and suicidal following a severe concussion, she dove into the scientific research and created the healing game, SuperBetter. Anyone faced with a tough situation can benefit from this game.
In 2011, music legend Glen Campbell announced that he had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. Instead of hanging up his guitar and preparing for the inevitable, Glen and his family set out on a “Goodbye Tour.” Campbell turned his struggles with the devastating disease into a powerful documentary and Grammy Award-winning song “I’m Not Gonna Miss You.” You don’t have to be a country music fan to be moved by his story. Watch the trailer here and stream the documentary on Netflix.
Vincent van Gogh
Yes, his mental illness is legendary as is his body of work. But did you know van Gogh likely suffered advance-stage syphilis? Or that The Starry Night was inspired be the view (sans bars) from his room in a French asylum? That he wanted to be a minister and insisted on giving his meager possessions to those less fortunate? His artistic techniques were (and are) revolutionary. I find it oddly comforting that someone so extreme and unstable, someone so crippled in mind and body was still able to create something beyond himself.
My friend and colleague (and creator of A Creative Human) once asked me for my definition of creativity. Although I don’t recall my exact response, I’m sure it included phrases like “new approaches to old problems,” “no fear” or my old standby “question everything.” While those still ring true to me, I now put “perseverance” at the top. Creativity is no accident. It’s not lost or found. It is a human response to challenge. A choice to be made. My journey is still unfolding, but I refuse to let circumstances define me. I choose to be creative.
Remember when you needed an invitation to join Pinterest?
Pinterest soft launched in 2010, I don’t recall the date, but I pinned my first cupcake four years ago (shocking, I know.)
According to Business Insider, the “visual bookmarking” platform is forecast to generate $169 million in revenue this year. The Pinterest team has done an excellent job of monetizing the platform in a way that hasn’t changed the user experience (unlike Snapchat). #PINNING!
The most common question I’m asked … “what’s the next big thing?” I have no idea, but it will be visual and immediate. And solve a problem like Pinterest did (actually being able to find and use something youbookmarked for later reference). We are visual, highly distracted beings. To get our attention, you’ve got to show, not tell, and don’t beat around the bush. Like Violet in Willy Wonka, “I want it NOW!”
Panx -i-e-ty / noun
The FOMO and conflicted feelings I have when I launch Pinterest. Is it possible to knit, bake, craft, decorate while holding pigeon pose and learning to paint?