With the mediapocalypse ravaging our industry and our membership rolls, it's natural that SPJ's leadership would grasp for that One Big Initiative to keep us relevant.
But before we attempt some new stuff, let's fix the old stuff. Here's one obscure example: The Robert D.G. Lewis First Amendment Award.
It's open to college students, and the winner gets $500 for travel to the annual convention. But...
1. It was announced in SPJ Leads on May 21 — when most college students are already on summer break and the rest are studying for, or taking, final exams.
2. The application deadline was July 14 — when most students are doing anything but thinking.
3. Nowhere in Leads or the webpage does it say when the winner will be announced. This year, it was July 28. That's less than a month before the convention. How aggravating for a student who wants to go, but can't afford it without the $500. They have to wait till the last minute before they can book a flight and a room.
4. The webpage and Leads never mentioned that the winner also gets in free for the Mark of Excellence luncheon and receives a certificate suitable for pimping on a resume.
Think I'm nitpicking? On Tuesday, I asked Awards Coordinator Lauren Rochester how many applications she got. The answer: seven.
This isn't Lauren's fault. She's new and inherited this. So I talked to interim co-executive director (say that five times fast) Joe Skeel, who had no real answers, either. But that isn't his fault. With his boss Terry Harper dying, membership numbers tanking, and problems ranging from a leaky roof at HQ to pain-in-the-ass board members like me asking lots of questions, Joe is maxed out.
So I think it's my fault. And my fellow board members' fault. It's a lot sexier to lobby in D.C. for a shield law and circulate press releases on the crucial media issues of the day. Who wants to audit all the small stuff? It's the same reason Air Force generals don't want to buy cargo planes when they can procure fighter jets.
But SPJ has got to start doing the boring, heavy lifting. Or we're going to crash.
