Why I Do What I Do: The Importance of Clear Communication

By Sharon Burton | Associate Fellow

"He’s using your cash register," Bonni whispered. We were in Hawaii, shopping for little gifts to bring home to our families after a conference. The man working the kiosk in the strip mall was watching us. Two middle-aged women whispering about his cash register was probably not normal for him.

"I wrote the manual for that cash register," I told him.

"Really?" He reached under the register and pulled out the dog-eared, stained manual. "I use this all the time. Every time I need to know something, it’s right here. Wow! You wrote this!"

We chatted while we paid for our things, and then Bonni and I left to walk back to the hotel in the warm Hawaii evening. I cried all the way.

This is my proudest moment as a professional communicator. I’ve won awards for what I do, I’ve been honored to be an Associate Fellow with the STC, I’ve written and published a book, and recently I was asked to contribute to another book. I’ve done well in this field. But this guy, in his kiosk in a shopping strip in Hawaii, this guy is the reason I do what I do. I make a difference.

I Never Meant To Stay At The Party This Long

Like many of us in the technical communication world, I fell into this field. It was something to do while I was in graduate school that was decent money when I needed money, and it beat waiting tables. I could wear jeans and work in an office. I hung out with other offbeat people who all seemed to love what they did. Yup, I thought, I can do this until I get bored.

It’s been 20 years and I’m not bored yet.

Often, we create content like crazed people, fighting everyone all the way, and when we’re done, we throw it over the metaphorical wall and hope it makes a difference. If we’re lucky, someone points out the one wrong thing four weeks after we ship. Despite the 30 reviews before we released it.

"Every time I need to know something, it’s right here."

Think about the power in what he told me. All the hours I put in, all the effort to make sure I analyzed the tasks and included only (but all) the information he needed, all the thought to make sure the right content was available and clear—all that effort made a difference to his life. I provided the information he needed to use his cash register so he could run his business. Certainly, it’s not sending a rocket to a comet, but what I did made that guy’s life easier.

How could I ever get bored with that?

The Information Engines That Drive Dreams

One thing I know is that clear communication matters. As professional communicators, we spend our days trying to make our communications clarify, support, and help people. And some days it feels like we just keep running our heads into that metaphorical wall.

Another thing I know is that if you let humans loose, they can do crazy stuff, amazing stuff you never imagined doing. They send skateboard explorers to Mars so we can look back at ourselves, or they design life-changing products, or, like my guy in Hawaii, they decide to run a small business because it’s always been their dream.

This creativity can be hard to remember when you’re fighting for access to the product and trying to explain that the use cases are not enough to document how the customer will do that task. But this is really what we do. We’re like the information engine for humans to go crazy with imagination and dreams.

I think that’s a big deal.

Giving Back The Communication

I’m obviously passionate about this field. I’ve been told I’m perhaps, at times, a little too excited. I think it’s the part when I start waving my arms. I refuse to believe I’m overdoing it.

A few years ago, I realized that if I was going to be this crazy about communication, I could also make a difference by teaching people to communicate better. For me, teaching is a natural extension of developing content.

Teaching communication has taken me places I never expected. The big deal in my life right now is teaching young engineers-to-be how to effectively communicate. I teach at the University of California, Riverside, as part of the engineering program. Almost every engineering major has to take and pass the Technical Communication for Engineers class as part of their graduation requirements. I’ve been co-teaching the class with Bonni Graham for eight years and expect to continue until I’m too old to talk. Then I may just wave my arms.

Twice a week, three quarters a year, we have 50 to 75 engineers-in-training from multiple fields, bright faced but not eager to be taking another "stupid writing" class. In 10 weeks, Bonni and I have to get these students from there to understanding that no matter how wonderful your idea is, if you can’t communicate it, the idea doesn’t exist. We walk them through presenting ideas, understanding audience and communicating appropriately, writing clear functional specs, and writing test cases.

Communicating So Other Humans Can Understand

Their enthusiasm for engineering is often overwhelming. It’s like a drug to watch them solve problems, talk about what they want to do in the world, and how they’re going to do it. They are convinced there is no problem they can’t solve by suitably applying engineering. I love them for it. It renews my passion for what I do to be reminded of how exciting this all is.

Here’s another thing I know: every one of my students has the potential to do something wonderful in their field. Some of them will change the world. And, because of my small part of their education, they are better communicators than they might otherwise be.

At the end of every quarter, even though I’m not ready to cut my baby birds loose, I tell the students that it’s been an honor and a privilege to be part of their education. That I expect good things from them and want them to keep in touch. I want to know what they do and how it works for them. I tell them they are astonishing people who are going to be a difference.

Then, right there in the classroom, I cry.

Someone Is Counting On You

Clearly, I’m excited about this field. I teach, consult, write, and only occasionally now, create user content. And, apparently, cry a lot. But that’s what happens when you’re engaged with what you’re doing.

And I’m okay with that.

What I want to communicate to you is my excitement in hopes that you’ll find yours, too. In the day-to-day of what we do, our excitement about what we do can get lost. Endless review cycles, subject matter experts who won’t communicate with us, and unreasonable deadlines can make us all just tired. I’m hoping to remind you of the importance of clear communication and the impact it has.

Maybe you’ve not met your guy in the kiosk yet. For you, it may be a person who is able to take family leave during a scary time because your instructions help him or her complete the request. Maybe you created a video that clarifies a critical concept for someone who can then develop a new medical technique. I don’t know what content you create that makes a difference or for whom. But people out there are counting on your clear communication so they can do something that’s important to them.

Regardless of your audience, your communication skills are making a difference. The content we create has the potential to support humans who are following their dreams and using their wild imaginations to do things we never imagined. Or easily use the new kitchen appliance to make a nice family dinner for the first time in two weeks.

Either way, that’s what we do.

Sharon Burton (sharon@sharonburton.com) is a communication consultant and teacher with 20 years in the tech comm field. Sharon helps companies solve their business content issues: solving workflow issues, selecting the right tools, training staff, and improving the post-sales customer experience. You can follow her on Twitter at @sharonburton.