Greece in Spring

In a little over two weeks, I’ll leave for another trip with the UR Jazz group – this time, to Thessaloniki, Greece!  I’ll be working with more defined goals but the same level of ambiguity so stay tuned for exciting updates and be sure to  follow us on Facebook at UR Jazz.

The presentation from eduWeb is now available online.

I think I’m far enough away from the trip now to talk about the part of it that took me by surprise and that was the emotional connection I felt for the students and the group as a whole. I don’t know whether it was a maternal instinct that kicked in or if it is just a typical group dynamic, but I felt very proud and protective and terribly impressed with the students on the trip.

It was about 5:40 a.m. the morning of May 10…we were rolling off campus, and my role in the group was established.

“Kirsten, do you know when our flight is?”

We had all received the same information from Doc, we all should have had print-outs of the agenda, etc. in our packs. But from that moment on, I was the go to person for information. I also felt like a mother hawk – circling the group and trying to get a birds eye view from 50 feet up. Watching, paying attention to who was lagging behind, who might be late, who might look like they could use an Advil.

The only time I walked through the streets of San Jose alone was the morning we left for Pochote. I hiked it on up to the grocery store and bought a case of water for the group. Some of the students had been up a bit late the night before and I knew that a 3 hour bus trip and then a ferry ride would not go over well while being dehydrated.

So, it was that kind of thing…always the one with the Benedryl spray, the Deep Woods Off, the Kleenex. The effect of being needed for a reason outside of my original purpose was maybe not surprising, since this is the kind of thing I always seem to end up doing, but maybe that it took hold so quickly. I must have the words “den mother” stamped on my back.

This kind of emotional attachment was probably good – but I also know that it can get in the way. You can lose focus and maybe not be as objective in your story telling when your feelings are in play. You can forget your role and lose track of the goals. It’s a delicate line to walk – but keeping the emotions in check while remaining a member of the group was a big challenge for me on this trip.

Corporations have begun to embed their staff at events, like Keith Childs at an important international car show. His blog post on the changing role of communicators syncs exactly with our Costa Rican project.

Taking it literally, journalism professor Tom Hewitt of the University of Alaska, Fairbanks, embedded himself and four of his students in Iraq in the Summer of 2009.

From a journalists POV, embedded PR people may be the only way to fill the new 24-7 news cycle created by social media.

A pdf of the Ground Rules for Embedded Reporters, according to the Secretary of Defense.

I’m noticing embedded reporters more and more in the news- and not just on the war front. President Obama’s Facebook page is starting to show images of him working on the ground in Louisiana. While these photos are probably just as much PR as the others that appear in his FB albums, they have the authenticity of being topical, current, and up-to-the minute. The President has taken his photographer on the road to get the real story in real time!

Recently on The Daily Show, author Sebanstian Junger talked about his new book WAR and being embedded with soldiers in Afghanistan. What he says about becoming emotionally involved with the troops rings very true for me – more in the next post.