Last Thursday, I received a survey from the board of directors of the Detroit chapter of the Public Relations Society of America (PRSA). The board is seeking the input of chapter members to help determine whether it should take a position on a proposal to repeal of a national bylaw requiring that national PRSA officers and board members be Accredited in Public Relations (APR). The rationale behind the proposal argues that because 80 percent of PRSA members do not hold APR status, national leadership is not truly representative of the membership.
On a normal day, I wouldn’t have taken much note of this survey or the argument behind the petition. However, as the chair elect for the society’s technology section I had spent the previous weekend at my first PRSA Leadership Rally in New York, where discussion of the APR bylaw was prevalent. I had seen my share of the bylaw discussions online, the arguments for and against, but, as is often the case with written communications, the passion within this debate was lost on me. I was unaware of the degree of polarity on the issue and how long the debate has been active and, dare I say, controversial.
Accreditation is the PR industry’s version of certification or licensure, although the nature of the profession does not allow for APR to be looked upon in the same way as the accounting industry views a CPA.
The process to become APR can be understood as a three-step process: the first requires one to submit answers to a number of questions to a panel of APRs charged with gauging your understanding of fundamental concepts, theory and program design; the second is to elaborate on those answers and to demonstrate your understanding through presentation to the panel; assuming the panelists deem you ready to sit for the test, the third step is to pass a rigorous computer exam.
Once you’ve earned accreditation, ongoing maintenance through continued professional development is required by the accrediting organization, the Universal Accreditation Board, and requires you file every three years.
For my part, I earned my APR (I do not use the word “earned” lightly here, as I dedicated many hours of study over the course of six months to ensure I passed the accreditation) a number of years ago. In the beginning, I did not aspire to become APR out of anything more than a competitive spirit; I’m fairly competitive by nature and I work for a company lead by a number of professionals who also are APR. Anything you can do, I can do…
However, going through the process illuminated areas I was deficient in and allowed me to take steps to improve. Becoming APR improved my ability to develop strategy and made me a better professional. I believe that investment accelerated my career. I believe my organization’s investment and cultural support of APR has made us a stronger company, allowed us to grow faster and attract some of the technology industry’s brightest companies as clients.
As for the debate within PRSA, I think there are more worthwhile professional endeavors than arguing this topic. That said, here’s my two cents: the bylaw hasn’t encouraged more of us in our industry to achieve APR and doesn’t serve the organization’s interests. PRSA is an entity that depends upon the volunteer service from its membership to help it drive the profession forward.
In my experience, APR will not create more time to volunteer nor make you a better or more dedicated board member, so the APR requirement merely serves to limit the potential contributions from the organization’s body.
The APR process does makes you a better practitioner and is the only mark of differentiation and competency the profession has, so if you aspire to leadership within PRSA at the national level, you should be APR. True leaders set an example for others to follow and like many of the efforts we champion, most of the APR’s value is in the journey, not the end result.
-- Kevin Sangsland
