I tell stories to important people

By Lauri Hennessey

The other day my seven year-old son asked me what I did for a living. When you are seven there are livings that are easy to understand, of course. Teacher? Easy. Firefighter? Cool. Dentist, doctor, store owner. All graspable.

Try explaining to a 1st grader that you do public relations.

This challenge has been bouncing around my mind as I read the flap over Scott McClellan's book. The former White House spin doctor now admits he lied on the job. Most of America isn't surprised. Now, CBS Sunday Morning legal analyst Andrew Cohen takes on the entire public relations profession by saying there is no surprise in McClellan's admissions, and he says, "Show me a PR person who is 'accurate' and 'truthful,' and I'll show you a PR person who is unemployed."

Ouch.

Contrary to the schools churning out dozens of public relations go-getters a year now, back when I went to college, PR wasn't usually your game plan. You started out in media (I worked at KIRO radio). Then a lot of folks made the jump to public relations from there. Me, I worked as a press secretary in D.C. The reason most people make the jump is because the hours and pay and stress in most media jobs kill you. But here I am, almost 20 years after leaving the media, and even with the tension and the hours and the pay, I miss being a reporter. Every day. But that's another story.

For me, I have made my life promoting things I believe in. My clients are domestic violence prevention organizations, youth organizations like the YMCA or Camp Fire or Treehouse, AIDS organizations like Lifelong AIDS Alliance or Seattle Pride, or city government departments trying to do things like protect critical habitat. I don't make millions, but I get these stories told. I use my connections or my instincts and make sure that the stories get the attention they deserve. And, if things are rocky or times are tense, I advise people on how to handle the crisis.

When I went into journalism, it was with the hope of making a difference. It was with the hope of using my writing to move people and to make the world a better place.

That was 20 years ago. I think I fell off the path for a while, particularly when I was the press secretary for a very loathsome U.S. Senator. But beyond that transgression, I am still doing what I thought I would do with my life.

Scott McClellan has admitted to lying as the press secretary. And some folks say it happens all the time. You know what? I was a press secretary in D.C. And I never lied to the media. Ever. Because I knew that if you did, your days were numbered. Nothing, and that means nothing, kills a PR career quicker than lying.

When I was a press secretary, I would maintain that I knew some amazing people who worked with the media for a living. I knew some inspirational elected officials. I also knew some shifty elected officials. I also knew some lazy reporters. And I knew bad press secretaries. But the profession had nuance and grey area, just like any other profession.

So here I sit, 20 years later, and I read about Scott McClellan lying for a living. I know how lawyers probably used to feel when people made jokes during O.J. Simpson's trial. I know how government employees feel when people make jokes about bureaucrats. Because I am proud to do this.

When my son asks me what I do for a living tomorrow, I will tell him this: I tell stories about important things, and about people and causes that need my help. And I make sure those stories get told to many people. And that makes a difference.

Hmm. Kind of sounds like what I used to dream of doing for a living.

Lauri Hennessey runs her own public relations firm and is the mother of three children. She also doesn't lie for a living, and is not pleased with Scott McClellan's book - or with the media who say he is the norm. You can reach Lauri at lauri@hennesseypr.com