I work among freaks, apparently

I once heard from a prospective student from Virginia. He had been looking for a college in Virginia where he could double major in statistics and organ. He found more than one, but they never returned his messages of inquiry. So he started looking across the state line and found me. The rest is history – he came to Appalachian and double majored as planned.

What I didn’t know at the time is that all other things being equal, what tipped his scales toward Appalachian was that not only did I respond to his inquiry, but I also responded the same day. Well, imagine that. E-mail – what a concept. I told this story to my colleagues in a full faculty meeting one day, to illustrate our ongoing commitment to students and to encourage everyone that just answering a freaking email could get some fine students coming our way. What a surprise.

In this age of enhanced, instant and constant communication, how is it that messages still go unanswered? How can a college expect to survive if it doesn’t respond to tuition-paying business knocking on the door? How can a college hate teaching so much that it ignores prospective students coming in?

All my colleagues and I love hearing from students new and former. We are committed to them and to their success. We say so in our vision/mission statements, and we practice what we preach. And when any of us travel and visit with counterparts at other institutions, we are always alarmed by their situation and simultaneously amazed at our own. How did we all land in a place where upper administration listens to its faculty and where our dean supports us with every fiber, every word, and every dollar available? That’s probably not answerable, so we just enjoy it and exercise it and keep paying it forward.

I have lost track of the number of times someone has expressed pleasantly-surprised thanks that I returned their email or phone call so promptly. Honestly, I just don’t know any other way to do business. Communication is king, and I insist on it from all students. I have blogged before about not receiving return messages in the other direction – that’s not so pleasant.

My school of music just had its ten-year review for reaccreditation. I told the reviewers, “The most truthful thing we should (but can’t) put into our recruiting materials is, ‘Come major in music here, because we’re nowhere NEAR as dysfunctional as everybody else.’”

That is what keeps me showing up for work. Truly I work among freaks. And my colleagues work with one, too.

Answer me! Part 2: Responding in-kind

This is a bit of a rant, but honestly, I feel fine. This is based on past – not current – experiences:

Have you ever worked and slaved and …

1) spent lots of energy writing a

2) complete,

3) thorough,

4) fully explanatory,

5) passionate letter,

… only to get a one-line response to it (if any at all)?

And so next time around, you write a terse letter? And then you get a one-line response to that, asking for …

1) more energy,

2) completeness,

3) thoroughness,

4) explanation,

5) and passion?

You write a lot and get asked to pare it down. You summarize and get asked to clarify, magnify, explain, or provide more information. You answer a question and get told you didn’t answer the exact question asked. But when you answer the exact question asked, you are then asked for the extra information you already provided so eloquently in your original answer. Some people are never pleased. If Microsoft ever invents a way to reach through a computer and tweak someone's nose, the world will be a better place.

Having written lots of letters and explained myself in many ways to many people, this phenomenon has carried over into my speaking, as well. Sometimes I have trouble carrying on a conversation because I’m formulating the perfect sentence that will explain my thoughts in as few words as possible yet leave no room for question or interpretation. That is a tricky (and fully unnecessary) balance, and Freud would probably have a field day with it.

Those of you (or us) who play cat and mouse with one-line responses designed to make you look superior rather than help the other person, let’s re-learn and re-invoke that whole Do Unto Others thing. Every communiqué is important to its writer. No one composes their thoughts just to practice their typing! The writer doesn't have to know your reaction; most of the time, they just need your considered answer.

My rules:

Communiqués from students are always important. After all, I’m in the business of communicating with students.

Communiqués from family members are always important.

Communiqués from old friends are always important.

Communiqués from administration are (usually) important.

Everything else can wait.

Answer me!

Communication is more rapid than ever, and modes of communication are more numerous than ever. And yet how often do emails, texts, phone calls, snail-mail letters, and Facebook messages still go unanswered these days? We’re doing better with communication options, but the actual communicating could still improve dramatically.

Several times during my career, I have written detailed, almost passionate letters, most of which were not only ignored but also not even acknowledged. Recently, I sent an article twice to one of my professional organizations and received no acknowledgement whatsoever. (Was it something I said?) I have used online forms, as instructed, to apply for being considered for several recital series. Nothing.

Here’s one for my students: Too many people won’t answer the phone if they don’t recognize the number. What is up with that? What do you think the caller is going to do, kidnap you over the phone? The caller could be someone borrowing a phone to get an important message to you. Answer your phones; it won’t hurt you. Unless you’re in class or church or court.

I learned to stay in touch by invoking the “Do unto others…” rule. If I don’t want people going AWOL on me, then I won’t do so to them. I don’t trust people who don’t answer messages, and I wouldn’t expect them to trust me if I did the same. No one sends messages to practice their speaking or typing skills, you know. Answer!

At one church were I served, brides and their families were often pleasantly surprised when I returned their emails and phone calls so quickly. Apparently, they had gotten used to delays from other staff members and outside vendors. Aside: They were also usually surprised to find that the church organist was so young and personable. [Mercy, people, were organists of yesteryear so surly that laymen automatically thought all of them were?!] And although I’m still personable, that “young” bit is fast fading in applicability.

An out-of-state student once contacted me about double-majoring in organ and a certain field of mathematics. He said that no single institution in his home state offered both of those degrees. When I responded to him, his mother sent me an additional email, saying that they were amazed and grateful that not only did I respond, but I also responded the SAME DAY. As it turned out, they had been inquiring at other schools and had not received ANY responses. I was horrified that other schools had not responded, but I was delighted to help this family out. I was also glad to enroll that student the following fall, thank you very much.

So if good communication boosts “business,” why on earth don’t more people exercise it? Dropping the ball on good service can be immediately soothed through good communication. I would forgive a multitude of sins, if only the sinner would stay in touch. For every day the painting crew doesn’t show and doesn’t communicate, the less willing I am to have them do the work. For every day a student absence goes unacknowledged, my willingness to forgive it wanes.

Good communication is probably not included among the great virtues of human existence. But it works for me, and I develop an undying loyalty to anyone who exercises it. Good communication has become the exception rather than the rule. My students WILL learn the rule from me. Or else.