Cat's Eye Marketing Blog

How Not To Be A Jerk Online: The Mr. Rogers 5-Step Guide to Social Media Etiquette

I didn't grow up with Mr. Rogers, but my daughter did, and, man, did he did know about people and relationships and, well, etiquette.

"Etiquette? What's that?" you say.

I've been thinking about etiquette lately. You know, that word that describes treating someone with respect, integrity, sensitivity. With empathy?

Anita Campbell, the highly respected Editor-in-Chief of Small Business Trends, sent me a direct message through Twitter a couple of days ago. She said that my tip made it into her publication, 137 Twitter Tips: How Small Businessess Get the Most From Twitter. Click here to upload the tips. (Thanks, Anita!)

Twitter, of course, being the red hot micro-blogging platform that is seeing phenomenal growth right now. The publication organized tips from readers who shared their best advice for how we can use Twitter to grow our businesses. My tip was in the category of Observing Etiquette.

Why we need a social media etiquette book

Mr. Rogers taught us this stuff ages ago. We go to Chamber of Commerce mixers and business meetings and lunches and dinners all the time. It is clear that we haven't forgotten it.

Why do we throw the rule book out the window when we are online? Is there not still a real person behind that profile photo?

Some people become someone else when they are on the other side of the brick—I mean monitor—wall. It's way easier to say things. To interrupt other people. To be rude. We do things we wouldn't think of doing when we are sitting in a restaurant staring someone in the eye over a bowl of minestrone soup.

Mr. Rogers was right

I looked at the tips in Anita's Twitter tips book and thought, well, yeah, Mr. Rogers taught us these things, in what he said and how he acted:

1. Include others in your play circle. One reader's Twitter tip was about remembering that your tweets are seen by everyone. She suggested that it is not polite to answer someone else's tweet without letting your other followers know at least the topic. It's the equivalent of a kid leaning in another kid's ear and whispering a secret. We feel left out!

2. Don't just talk; listen, too. Mr. Rogers was a master at modeling this. One reader's tip: Remember that Twitter is used by people so real conversations should exist. That means not just talking, but pausing to listen to someone else. Great advice.

3. Be helpful. Mr. Rogers showed us how to do this, too. Holding the door, picking up something someone dropped, educating us. Another reader's Twitter tip: Sharing expertise, sharing tips, answering questions to help others is a great use for Twitter. Sounds like a day in the neighborhood.

4. Remember to say 'thank you.' Remember a meal with Mr. Rogers? Or a character who did him a favor? There was always a thank-you. Another Twitter tip: If you see something you think is valuable, RT it. The retweet, or the RT, is just another way to thank someone you are following for a tweet that was helpful. It's your way of saying "thank you" by giving their tweet more visibility.

5. Respect friends who may be different from you. We may be different from each other, but we are all special, right? And we all need respect. Learned it from our friend, Mr. Rogers. Last Twitter tip (actually this one was mine): Please, please, please stay away from controversial issues that will divide the community. Mr. Rogers knew that it's okay for us to feel the way we do and that we don't all have to be exactly like each other. For me, that means not sharing opinions on Twitter that others might have strong opposing feelings about, like political or religious views.

Okay, in the middle of this post, I realized that the Mr. Rogers Guide to Social Media Etiquette has way more rules than I could ever list in one post. So I'll just ask you. If you are on Twitter, have you encountered any these rules of etiquette? Do you have more Mr. Rogers-isms to add?

Swedish Cowboys and Scuba Diving Brides: 8 Reasons You Should Have a Niche

I just hung up the phone. Lost a writing job. Actually, I turned it down. And I'm smiling. 

"I'd like three articles written about my business," he said. "And I need to place them in newspapers. Maybe in online directories, too. How much would you charge for that?"

I used to be the Ninja Copywriter. I could do it all. Bobbing and weaving (wait a minute, ninjas don't bob and weave).

I wrote copy for annual reports. Brochures. Newsletters. Print ads. Websites. Training guides. Postcards. Fliers. 

I wrote for hospitals. School districts. Colleges. Retail stores. Restaurants. Banks. City governments. All kinds of service businesses and nonprofits—large and small.

Okay, I was a generalist. And it served me well for many years.

But back to the phone call. 

"I don't do article marketing anymore," I said. "My specialty is helping small biz owners in service industries develop unique online presences. But I can give you the names of at least two outstanding writers who would be a perfect fit for you."

Why would I do that? Turn down work, especially these days?

Because a niche makes you stand out. Makes you different. Special.

8 good reasons to have a niche

I know a CPA whose niche is water company operational audits. He's doing very well.

I read about a yoga instructor who specializes only in yoga for pregnant women and new mothers. Over one year, she increased her income by more than 30%.

The owner of a remodeling company that started focusing on making custom window coverings for oddly-shaped windows in 1999. Today, his sales exceed $1 million a year.

So, the money is a great incentive. But are there other reasons to have a niche? Well, actually, yes. With a service or product niche you:

1. Become the best at what you do. When you stay in one specific niche, you will learn so much more because you are constantly perfecting that specialty. Learning new strategies. Reading. Absorbing. Getting better. 

2. Build credibility as an expert. This is huge. With time, you will become the go-to expert. Offering advice on social media forums. Writing articles. Being helpful and solving people's problems.

3. Are less frustrated. There is never time enough to learn everything about a general field or industry. As you build your specialty, though, there will be fewer instances where you are stumped when looking for solutions for a client. And that means less stress. 

4. Get more referrals. Bob, my biz partner, narrowed his graphic design/web development work to just WordPress blogs and websites. When he did that, an amazing thing happened. Happy clients started telling friends and colleagues about him and his schedule began filling up—fast.

5. Have a shorter learning curve. It's easier to keep up on new strategies and tools in a niche market than in a broader "I can do everything" business. And when you have the opportunity to practice the new stuff you are learning every day, it becomes part of your repertoire more quickly.

6. Have less competition. There may be a billion copywriters. But how many specialize solely in helping clients develop authentic and unique online identities? Not as many, I suspect.

7. Stand out in directories and on social media sites. Some sites, like Biznik, let you list yourself under the specific category of your choosing. And that means, with a niche, you may be the only person (or one of just a few) in that category. And people looking for that specific service can find you easily.

8. Actually get more of the clients you want to serve. It's like a magnet. When people know exactly what you do, they will come to you when they need that specific thing.

How to make a niche work

A good niche is one that follows your passion, uses your expertise and fills a real and specific need in the marketplace.

But how specific should you really get?

When I started exploring niches, all I could think of was tiny little groups of people. A target market of, say, Swedish cowboys who collect Star Wars memorabilia. Or an event planner who specializes in weddings for brides who scuba dive and want a rock star theme. 

All right, those niches went a little too far.

To start your niche thinking, try mind mapping. Draw a large circle in the middle of a piece of paper (or on a whiteboard). Write the broad name for your industry/business/role inside the circle. (Photographer, for example).

Now draw lines out from the center circle, draw more circles and keep going from the general to the specific. For example, a photographer may go from photographer to commercial to outdoors to aerial photography. The farther you go out with your circles, the more specialized your niche.

Look at the answers that came from your mind mapping exercise. Take a yellow highlighter and mark the niche ideas that you feel attracted to. Take a green highlighter and mark the ones that are niche areas that you can identify as needs or trends.

Of course, there is more work to do. Like researching the actual needs in the marketplace. Listening. Lurking on forums. Tuning in to what current clients say they are looking for.

Just don't worry so much about whether you are qualified or experienced enough. To establish a niche, you don't necessarily have to have a Master's or PhD. in a subject. But you do need to:

• Be interested/passionate about it. If it is something you truly care about, that love will come through. When I discovered my niche of online identity development, I knew I had hit on a passion: helping people develop their whole selves, complete with real and authentic personalities.

• Build on what you know. Use what you know, your strengths and background, to develop and refine your niche. My experience as an educator and degrees in psychology were a big help.

• Be willing to learn more. You can't possibly know everything about your chosen niche right now. If you read, interact with colleagues, and embrace that lifelong learning thing, your skills will keep growing. And that's a good thing.

• Talk it up. Everywhere. Tell everyone you know. It's actually easier now because you know exactly what you do and you can describe it in very few words. No more rambling and confusing elevator speeches for you. 

What about you? Have you gone the niche route? Are you thinking about it? What's holding you back? Have any tips to share? I'd love to hear from you in the comments. 

 

 

Do You Ever Lie to Your Customers?: Honesty, Fear and Teaching Pigs to Swim

It was a brilliant September day in 1973. What people in Spokane, Washington, call an Indian summer. Now I think we would call it a Native American summer.

It was the first day of my first year as a teacher and I was tied up in knots. Hadn't slept much, wondering what exactly I would do all day with 29 small, noisy people.

I had made detailed lesson plans. But, still, I didn't have a clue.

Teaching pigs to swim

I had a dream the night before. A nightmare, really. My principal, Mr. Buri, was standing at the side of a swimming pool.

He swung his head in the direction of the water. 

"If you want to work here, you have to know how to teach pigs to swim, " he said.

In the shallow end of the pool were four pigs with the largest snouts I had ever seen. 

"Well?" Mr. Buri said, his arms crossed.

That was when I sat straight up straight in bed, sweating, heart pounding.

A first day story

The next morning, I walked along the rows of tidy desks, placing a box of new Crayola crayons on each one. Even today, all I need is a whiff of that heady wax scent and it takes me right back to the classroom.

That, and the rectangular pieces modeling clay that reeked of oil and stained your hands in the one of the three available colors: Army green, chocolate brown or steel gray.

The 63-year-old teacher in the classroom next to me, with wise eyes and gray hair pulled into a bun, tipped me off about the clay.

"Honey, they're going to be scared," she said. " Give 'em the clay right away, when they first get here. It's hard as a rock. Working to soften it keeps their hands and brains busy and they forget their other problems."

She was right.

I gave each kid a piece of clay. Celia, a girl with frizzy red hair and a missing front tooth, let out a big sigh and pulled the wrapper off her clay. I had managed to distract her.

Then it started.

Chris, the tall, blond-haired boy in the second row I later would catch coloring his stomach—not coloring lying on his stomach; actually lifting up his shirt and coloring his tummy— sniffed. A lone tear trickled down his cheek. Katie, the girl to his left, was on the edge of her seat. She looked at me, her mouth a minus sign. Now everyone's eyes were on me.

Tell the truth

In a stroke of genius, I stopped acting like I knew everything in the world. I stopped acting like a teacher. I held up a piece of clay one kid had shaped into a ball.

"You know," I said, "I feel like this piece of clay."

Now the room was deathly still. 

"My stomach feels like it's rolled up in a thick ball. Were any of you a little afraid to come to school today? Maybe like you didn't know what was going to happen and you were afraid you would do things wrong?" 

At least 10 kids nodded their heads.

"You know, I'm scared, too," I said. "See, it's my very first day as a teacher. Ever. And I'm afraid I won't know what to do. How to do things right." 

I looked around, expecting some kid to say, "Look out. Ship's going down!" And a mass exodus of 28 six-year-olds, running for their lives.

What I saw instead was faces relaxing  and shoulders rising like ten pounds had been lifted from them.

Katie raised her hand. "I think you're a good teacher, Mrs, Dunn," she said with a lisp. A couple of other kids chimed in with simple words of encouragement.

The tide was turning. Why? Because I was honest with my students who, back then were my customers. It was a lesson that I never forgot. Honesty works.

Can you be too honest with your customers?

Now there are there those times with customers and clients where you just have to keep your thoughts to yourself.

If you are a surgeon and it's your first operation, you're not going to say to your patient, "Hey, it's okay to be nervous. I'm scared, too, because this is my very first surgery."

Or you're a pilot who just got her wings and your pathetic voice comes over the intercom.

"Good morning. We'll be flying at 39,000 feet. Just wanted to share with you that it's my first flight. I really hope I don't screw up."

Okay, you could say that, but it might not go over very well.

No one knows all the answers

You don't have to admit your fears and insecurities to your customers. But being open and honest with their questions can actually build trust and credibility.

Just last week, a client asked Bob, my biz partner, " Will these graphics work with the WordPress theme I'm thinking about using? 

Now, although some designers would be afraid the client would think they don't know their stuff, Bob's answer was, "I'm not sure. I'll check into that and get back to you."

Because, with new themes coming out all the time, it's impossible to know the features of every single one.

The client said, "You know, that's refreshing. My last designer would lead me down the garden path and I would find out later that it was bad advice. You actually admit it when you don't know something! 

How often do we do that?

We say, "Certainly. I can do that!" Then after the client walks away we say to ourselves, "How am I going to do that?"

Sometimes I say to a client, "I need to think about that. I'll get back to you."

It's okay to need time to think. To explore other options. To be a thinking, feeling person. To change your mind about something, even. It's what being human is all about. 

How about you?

When you react honestly, in the moment, or when you need time to think about the best strategy or service for a client, how do your customers respond? What if you change your mind about what they really need? Do they still trust you as a credible professional?

Would love to hear from you. 

Midnight Train to Portland: Playing with the 'Competition'

Okay, it wasn't midnight. And there were no competitors.

But I did ride an Amtrak train last weekend. I was traveling with my Biznik friends, some of which I had never met.

"Online social networking site" is too lame a term for what Biznik is. I call Biznik my virtual sandbox. Huge virtual sandbox.

The magical mystery—ahem, I mean Biznik—train (also known as the Amtrak 513) started way up north in Bellingham, WA and picked up Biznikers along the way. It stopped at the Tacoma station for one minute on Saturday, long enough for me to jump on.

Aside from their Biznik avatars, I knew some people only from our online conversations, forum discussions, and articles they might have written. Yet I felt I knew them well. 

Others I had hosted live workshops with or shared a lunch with at a networking event.

Some I had never had one interaction with. But here we were, sharing the same space.

Portland: a fine city for spunky entrepreneurs

Now it's kind of karma-like that we would end our train trip in Portland. People there don't exactly fit the mold. Bicycle commuters.

Vegetarians. Tree huggers. Spunky protestors fire-bombing a Starbucks. Or storming City Hall to demand that Wal-Mart pack its bags.

Portlanders have an independent streak. They don't blindly follow the crowd. It's okay to be different in Portland. A little funky. A little counter culture. Just like us. 

The train ride was amazing. Eleven entrepreneurs. Eleven unique voices.

One woman had been an undercover cop back in the days when most female officers didn't get respect from their bosses, who were usually men.

Another was a graphic designer whose heart was broken when she volunteered at an animal shelter and saw good dogs dropped off for "behavior issues. " She decided to start a second business as a dog trainer. 

I sat across from a brilliant and intuitive Bizniker who knows gobs of stuff about raw foods, long distance cycling, and using bio-energy and quantum physics to help us biz owners align with our mission and life purpose.

Whew! And that was just three of my train companions.

One train car. Two hours. A billion stories.

Why we went to Portland

Lori Richardson in Bellingham and Tshombe Brown in Portland had a crazy idea one day. What if a bunch of talented solopreneurs left the isolation of their offices and home studies for two days and came together to think about ways to collaborate?

Wait. Let's put them on a train to Portland and see what happens when they get there.

Now, some people think it a little strange to meet up with people, some of whom do the very thing you do, and think of ways to help each other. Are we insane?

Partnering. Collaborating. Community building. Sharing. Leveraging.

We know those words. We've practiced rolling them around in our mouths.

"Collaboration is so much better than competition," we say. "Let's work together. Support each other. How can I help you get what you need?"

But what does that really mean? How does it look when we do that and what happens as a result?

Café mochas, cappuccinos, and chats about collaboration

We ate and laughed and ate again. We listened to hysterical stories told from the heart. We were led on walking tours and visits to the "Saturday Farmers Market" on Sunday (more Portland quirkiness), sometimes resembling a high-energy group of distracted first graders at Disneyland. We engaged in café conversations, as Chris Brogan calls them, around just what collaboration means and whether it is even a valuable thing.

We didn't all agree. But that made it all the more fascinating.

We are living in ground-breaking times for small business. People are tired of the corporate bailouts, the huge bonuses for misbehaving executives, the absence of values and ethics. The old way of doing business hasn't really worked that well.

It's time for a new model. 

5 things I learned (actually, some of it I already knew):

1. Community building and collaboration have nothing to do with age. I've seen younger entrepreneurs with a competition mindset and 60-year-olds who place sharing and building partnerships center stage in their business practices.

2. We don't know all the ways we can share until we start talking. I got to know an awesome auctioneer and connected the dots to the director of a huge nonprofit client of mine whose gala auction is their fundraising event of the year.

3. Because someone is in the same business as me doesn't mean we can't find ways to support each other. Two copywriters. Two graphic designers. Two business coaches. But not one of us had the same strengths the same target clients, the same niches. And even if we did, we could still find ways to share our skills, learn from each other, support the value each of us brings to the table. 

4. Getting to know two people really well is better than listening to 12 people take 5 minutes each to answer the question, "What do you do?" In our whirly-twirly business lives, we don't always take time to get to know our colleagues, customers, and clients. Incredible things happen when you take the time to develop those relationships.

5. We don't always approach a problem from the same perspective. Each of us had unique observations and interesting ideas about collaboration and competition. For instance, collaboration can give us an advantage over big businesses, but healthy competition can lead to innovation and greater efficiency, and more customer choices.

And one more thing I learned:

Figuring out who owes what on dinners the brewpub put on one bill can be a nightmare. Okay, the Saturday night dinner was still a very fun experience. But I just wanted to give Tshombe, our gracious host, a big hug when it was all over. 

That's my train story. Got one of your own?