In the rear, darkest corner of my closet I have a blue polo shirt that proclaims in large black letters across the back “Brand Evangelist”.  The lettering is just one of a number of remarkable things about this shirt, none the least of which is that this particular shade of blue can nowhere be found in nature (or maybe even on this planet), and like some exotic spring moth the shirt was only supposed to live for a day.

It all started when executive managers here at the Riverside County Human Resources Department decided that we had an employer identity-communication issue, if not a full-blown crisis.  To rectify the situation it was announced that 35 of us (the best and brightest of the HR staff involved in recruiting) would spend a day with a certified brand consultant for the purpose of coming up with a County recruiting brand.

After work one day we had a brand kick off party at a local Italian restaurant/pizza parlor.  Satiated with pizza slices and coke, we were unsuspectingly given an assignment in preparation for brand day.  The sheet that was passed out simply read: 

Homework

25 things that are good about Riverside County. 

25 things that are good about doing business with Riverside County.

50 things that are good about working for Riverside County. 

(Verbally we were instructed to write down the number of items requested, but told that we, individually, would be the only one to know if we really had 18 instead of the requested 25, or 43 versus 50.  I don’t know about you, but I had one high school teacher in particular who employed this same strategy.  The honor system... works every time!)

Well, the Saturday afternoon before the following week’s brand day I sat myself down to a latte on the front patio of my favorite Starbucks in Palm Springs, right on the corner of Palm Canyon Drive and Tahquitz Way.  Diagonally across the intersection is the new upstart coffee franchise which I refuse to even mentally register its name (something about beans, I think), but which I frequently scowl over to out of ill humor. 

Don’t they know there isn’t the slightest chance to win my affections and consumer dollars?  At Starbucks I have power because I can speak the jargon, as I order my venti, half-caf, percent latte.  But actually, there is no need for me to order, because the baristas remember my name and favorite drink… I belong at Starbucks.  (It just hit me, Wow, Wow, what a branding campaign.)  

Anyway, back to homework and evangelism.  I did complete my assignment and was prepared for the big day.  When it arrived we were greeted by the affable consultant who we were briefly introduced to at the pizza parlor.  He was eager to use his magic marker and oversized tablet to take down even the most inane of our thoughts, and totally without judgment, just as fast as they could be verbally launched forth by the chosen 35.  Filled, torn off, and taped up tablet pages started to span the side wall distance from the front to the back of the conference room, but halfway there it was time to take a look at what we had generated.

The brilliant statements of an hour ago met with a collective recognition that they weren’t actually material or meaningful to communicating why a person should be interested in one of our County jobs.  The swiftness of the pace that wrote the tablet pages was only exceeded by the speed these once great ideas were lined through, one by one on the tape up pages.  Redundancies were likewise, instantly dealt, and now certain truths from this process started to emerge. 

The consultant presented to us a stereo typical cynicism of government as an employer (presumably on purpose) in an attempt to counter balance to the remaining well reasoned items on the tablet pages.  It was this challenge to what the County was like as an employer, which brought forth the brand, “Beyond Your Expectations”.   The breadth of what the County had to offer a prospective employee rose above that skeptical view of government, and lead to a branding campaign reflecting a positive outlook for employment and careers with the County.  With this revelation we now had something tangible to communicate which could set us apart as an employer from all the rest.

P.S.  The other brand we most often see here in the Desert, usually as a bumper sticker on a pick up truck, recreational vehicle or an ATV trailer, is “Got Sand?”  Fortunately for us, we have an almost unlimited supply.