Ode to public relations

The School of Journalism and Communication (SOJC) at the University of Oregon has two student-run, professional caliber agencies that dwell in Allen Hall: Allen Hall Advertising (AHA) and Allen Hall Public Relations (AHPR). Over the course of four years on both sides, the stark difference in advertising and public relations students’ lifestyles have been the most telling, and entertaining, if I might add. Usually plugged into their iPods and rocking jeans a few sizes too snug, the ad  kids live in the Ballmer lab on the 3rd floor, where they cook-up what can only be described as procrastinated “awesomeness” until four in the morning. Two floors down, the PR kids live in Duniway with their cardigans and AP Stylebooks and head home by 10 p.m. on-the-dot. The ad kids remind me of the secret club in grade school that was too cool for everyone, whereas the PR kids are more reminiscent of that popularity contest type. Somehow, I’ve double majored in advertising and public relations without being bipolar. The SOJC has been flirting with the idea of combining these two studies into one sequence for years now, but I have to say, with the utmost respect, that this idea is absurd. The two professions don’t have nearly as much in common as one might assume. So, for the sake of argument, I want to take this opportunity to attest to their distinguishing difference: advertising and public relations both focus on relationship building, however it’s the types of relationships they build that set them apart. Advertising communicates one-way with an artistic, but sometimes arrogantly exclusive mindset that says “think this way”, where public relations communicates inclusively, two-ways by researching and fostering conversation that asks “what do you think about this?”. I don’t know about you, but I’d way rather be in the business of communicating with, than at people.

What’s your typeface?

Once upon a time…people primarily communicated in person. In 2010, this is an ancient concept, but the subconscious impact of non-verbal communication has stood the test of time. Even as we continue to invent ways to avoid directly communicating with one another, we cannot evade typography’s emotive properties. Similar to how body language and tone of voice characterize face to face communication, typeface characterizes digital communication. Typography is an art that has been around for decades, now exponentially transforming in an Internet fluent culture. We’re empowered by this newfound freedom to self-publish and brand ourselves with personal websites and blogs; typography plays a key role in these endeavors. So, though we don’t have to worry about eye contact or fidgeting while we hide behind our laptops, we are confronted with another obstacle: the nuances speaking for us within the typeface designs we choose. These choices should be thoughtful because the way we package our messages affects their delivery. Someone’s favorite typeface also reveals a lot about them. Futura is the opinion leader, Optima is the wannabe and Baskerville is the know-it-all. I like to think of myself as a classic and edgy Helvetica Neue Ultra Light personality and couldn’t bring myself to befriend someone who likes Arial. In light of the passé pick-up line, “What’s your sign?”, ask yourself what your favorite typeface is. And, in lieu of haphazardly scrolling through that font menu, think of the non-verbal communication signals your selection could send.

Digital hiatus

It has been 12 days since my last blog post. I say this in confession to the God’s of the digital realm because it’s nearly a sin to be so disconnected. I opened my browser today with a weight on my shoulders, not burdened by final exam stress but blog guilt. I wonder if it’s possible to matter anymore without setting up some kind of account. With more passwords than I can count on both hands, I don’t feel any more significant. In the prevailing quest for identity, do we really just long to be relevant? And if so, has the digital revolution made this desire more, or less attainable? Recently, a friend told me that not tweeting for one weekend raised sincere concern amongst a handful of her followers who asked her if she was OK. I was floored. Since when did social networking activity become an indication of someone’s well-being? I wonder if our efforts to constantly comment and share have made our lives more difficult. We’ve almost become incapable of living on earth without legitimizing our purchases, friendships and opinions over the Internet. Do I still exist if I haven’t logged in? Furthermore, can we live without telling everyone that we’re doing so? The other day, I stumbled upon the realization that my digital dependancy has reached an unhealthy level. Forgetting to charge my Blackberry and Macbook the night before, I might as well been naked in the middle of campus. Literally and figuratively I’d run out of power and can’t recall a time I’ve ever felt so helpless. Stripped of all connections to the digital world, I was forced to take a seat, breathe and endure utter silence. For 20 minutes no one knew what I thought or what I was doing. This brush with irrelevance has made me a changed woman, one who’s reconsidering obscurity as a prerogative. Does anyone else feel that solitude is a foreign concept?

“Google me”

Who hasn’t been coerced into something that “everyone was doing” at one point or another? My most vivid experience with this would have to be when platform Jack Purcell sneakers and Gap hooded sweatshirts were prerequisites to middle school survival. Of course it’s implausible for “everyone” to be doing anything, which is why I caution people to look before they leap into social media (if you’re a Myspace user, I’m too late).  In the US, approximately four in five adults on the Internet use social media at least once a month, and half participate in social networks. The hype that surrounds social media has either inundated people so much that they’re not sure where to start, or misled them to approach this emerging trend like the Beanie Baby craze-”collecting them all” and undermining their ability to function as personal branding tools. No one can brand themselves by following all the trends. Popping up in a Google search as someone spread thin across different social media networks isn’t impressive, instead it broadcasts a message of insecurity. In this day and age, how we present ourselves on the Internet nearly parallels our means of existence, which is why establishing an online presence is important and understanding its gravity is imperative. Has anyone else noticed that social media is an oxymoron? Someone’s social life is private, media is public and the combination spells trouble. If you haven’t already, I encourage you to Google yourself (your potential employers and blind dates already have) and reevaluate your presentation on the world wide Web. Almost like looking into a mirror, Google results are a personal reflection. In the midst of this social media revolution, are you a leader or a follower?

Smartphone heartbreak

I’m breaking up with my Blackberry. Things aren’t moving forward and I need a phone that I see a future with. We met in the fall of 2007 at a Verizon wireless kiosk in the Washington Square mall. I was coming out of a bad relationship with a Razr and it swept me off my feet. Sure, things were exciting for the first few years, but now all of our interactions seem tedious. I’ve been trying to find the right time to say that we have more of a friendship than a passion for one another. We go around in circles arguing about its stifling 2.5 inch, 320 by 240 pixel screen. Maybe we bought a protective cover too fast? Trapped in a contract with Verizon, the iPhone at AT&T has been out of my league- until now. Rumors have surfaced that the iPhone might be available to Verizon customers this summer and since the news, I haven’t been able to get its liquid crystal display, scratch- resistant touch screen out of my mind. The notorious cultural divide between Blackberry and iphone users has made this juncture in my life all the more severe. A smartphone isn’t a cell phone, but a manifestation of relevance in today’s world, so switching phones makes me feel like more of a renegade than a consumer. Living without BBM will take some adjusting, however I won’t miss discussions with its sticky cursor ball or getting caught texting in class on its loud, not-so-stealth keypad. Sorry Blackberry, I can do better and the object of my affection is the iPhone 3G.

The “real” world

Signifying a culmination of ultimate purpose, college graduation seems more like judgement day than a celebration. I grew up with my dad preaching that a college degree would be my “ticket” in this life. Now, approximately 35% of 25-34 year olds have bachelor degrees or higher and unemployment rate has soared historically to 10.4%. This notorious milestone is- to say the very least-more daunting than ever. I’m still in the process of wrapping my mind around this brutal reality and devising a default answer to the question dreaded by all soon-to-be graduates: “So, what are your plans after graduation?”. Those who fire this question tend to do so while only slightly holding back a proud smirk, as they too were tortured with this very question back in the day, but finally know their answer and are therefore entitled to revenge the same self-doubt. To graduate from college is to transition into the “real world”, insinuating that all life before this point is a fantasy. Not your typical fairy tale, but college is arguably another realm: sweatpants and Uggs are always acceptable, good morning greetings are exchanged in the afternoon, football is a religion and plastic red cups mark the height of sophistication. In the midst of panicked peers padding their resumes or plotting to leave the country for a while, it’s dawned on me that the transition into this so-called “real world” isn’t one big leap, but the first of many small steps. The most successful people I know right now, started out with far less than glamorous jobs. So, if you don’t have an answer to the graduate questionnaire, take heart. I feel that I’ve impressed more people by asserting my uncertainty with confidence than I have by reciting my laundry list of more well-rehearsed expectations. Regardless of our economy’s state, nothing good can come of fear. Can we put our pride aside and begin to embrace life’s mystery?

Opportunity feel free to knock at any time now.

Kindle sparks nothing but crossfire

I’m one of those people in denial of newspaper’s extinction. My Blackberry keeps me posted throughout the week, but I cling to my New York Times every Sunday and treasure its rare tangibility. As interactive as digital platforms try to be, they won’t be able to create an interaction more personal than the intimacy one experiences with print. I’ll confess to jumping on the digital bandwagon with my generation-except for the Kindle. It makes sense for news to be online so that content can be updated faster than the turnaround of a daily paper, however; the supposed hurry to download a book seems dubious. News connotes urgency, whereas books connote leisure. Creating a platform for digital reading negates the charm of literatures tradition. The Kindle seems uninspired. The vast majority of us already stare into computer screens from 9-5, and if we’re not zoned into those, we’re squinting into our pocket-sized versions, which people in more primitive times referred to as cellular phones. At a mere 21 years of age, I’m sporting glasses to protect against my computer’s fluorescent lighting and screen glare, which my eyes strain to accept as a way of life. Are people truly seeking another avenue for staring into fluorescent light? The Kindle doesn’t seem progressive, but more like a blatant merchandising scheme, all to familiar I will add, to convince us that something good isn’t good enough. Will print become a luxury good? Books have been spreading the written word well for centuries, haven’t they? Let’s ask: just because we can, should we?