FROM THIS VALLEY By Pete Steiner
Mission Statement I
treasure my monthly engagement with you here on the back page. Over a decade and a half, we have told tales about ancient Mankato (i.e., before Lord Hentges arrived as city manager). We have celebrated and lamented special places that are no more. We have discussed the difference between being a codger and a curmudgeon. We have related chats with some unique and colorful longtime local characters. Yet never in this column have we put forth a mission statement! In 2021, that seems almost un-American. Now, you, as I, may have served at some point on a committee charged with the task of formulating a mission statement for a company or an organization or a nonprofit. So maybe you agree, it’s time for “From this Valley” to put forth a mission statement. ■■■■ Mission statements became all the rage in corporate America about three or four decades ago, according to Wikipedia. They were designed to be a short statement of why an entity exists, what its goals are, and its primary customers, values and philosophies. Pretty challenging to get all that into a short statement. Beyond that, you were advised as well to make it compelling! Creators were advised to be “visionary” and “aspirational.” Committees and consultants would agonize over what to include, split hairs over specific words, and debate if the proposed final product was worthy. You know what they say about the committee charged with designing a horse. U l t i m a t e l y, m a n y m i s s i o n statements tended to be “a 40 • JUNE 2021 • MANKATO MAGAZINE
camel.” Too vague. Convoluted. U n - c l a r i f y i n g . To o f l o w e r y. Professor Chris Bart at McMaster University estimates that just 10% of mission statements say something meaningful, and the concept in general has become subject to ridicule. Nevertheless, I determinedly began trying to craft one anyway. The phrases “tweak a memory,” “make it enjoyable” and “offer some insight or new perspective” came to mind. But as I attempted to be visionary, aspirational and compelling, it suddenly occurred to me — where in heck are people ever going to be able to read this mission statement if they don’t read it in this issue of the magazine? And not to put myself in their company, but does Pat Reusse have a mission statement? Or Leonard Pitts or George Will? But I read their columns anyway. (Even if George Will had such a statement, it would probably include a lot of big words that I don’t understand, some of them in French, or referring to an amendment to the Constitution that no one else has recently read.) So in the end, why bother? Thus, I ask you, how many mission statements that you did not personally work on have you ever read? How many times have you chosen one product over another because you really liked their mission statement? I am guessing that the answers to those questions are, respectively, “fewer than five” and “zero.” So maybe that’s why this column has survived as long as it has without a mission statement. People are either gonna read this **** or they’re not! So much for this mission statement. ■■■■
Postscript 1: Spotify’s mission statement reads partially, “… to unlock the potential of human creativity by giving millions of creative artists the opportunity to live off their art…” Yeah, right, that’s why they pay songwriters about a thousandth of a cent for each stream or download. Unless you have millions of streams, you make no money. Postscript 2: Another highly au courant term is resilience. It is a trait that basically means, the ability to bounce back from any form or period of stress – say, a year of COVID. Current journals, periodicals, newspapers and talk shows are filled with lessons and instructions and discussions of how to achieve resilience. I recommend simply living for a couple of months in Minnesota, which is a natural laboratory for teaching resilience. To wit, consider a 2 1/2-month stretch: On Feb. 16, we awoke to 20 degrees below zero for the second day in a row. Six days later, it was 40. A 60-degree swing, averaging 10 degrees a day. On March 7, the temperature reached 60 for the first time since Nov. 9. On March 13, it was still 57 and spring-like, the grass was greening and folks were out and about anticipating finally being released from our COVID shackles. Two days after that, on March 15, we got 8 inches of heavy, wet snow. Then in April, nothing but cool and clouds when we longed for more sun and warmth. If you survived all that to read this, you don’t need to buy a book or check some YouTube channel. You already understand; you already embody resilience. Longtime radio guy Pete Steiner is now a free lance writer in Mankato.
