By Russell S. Powell

When we put together our annual marketing plans, one key constituency often gets short shrift. Typically, it is only after we list current students, prospective students, parents, alumni, faculty and staff members, reporters, and policy makers that we begin to think about the people who live closest to the campus.

But that group can play a key role in fostering good will toward a college. Ignored or underappreciated, a college's neighbors can create needless headaches for the institution and its public-relations officer. Consider these common scenarios:

• College A's expansion plans require it to evict a popular restaurant and erect a building on open space that residents in the neighborhood have come to take for granted. The area will no longer be available for recreation, the neighbors' view will be compromised, and property values are threatened. Feeling hemmed in and powerless, the residents express their outrage in letters to the local newspaper, and anticollege leaflets begin flooding the streets. What might be a routine permitting process is derailed by public opposition, costing the college thousands of dollars in legal fees and considerable good will.
• College B's stately campus is located in a high-crime area. When times were better, the administration invested staff time and resources in community-development programs, but budget cutbacks have forced it to scale back those efforts, and there has been a rise in crime off campus. Students are feeling at risk both on and off the campus, as community hostility becomes palpable. The college ends up having to invest more money anyway—but in its public-safety program, not in community development. The contrast between the beautiful campus and the broken-down neighborhood is bad for business, raising concern with prospective students and their parents as well as with alumni, employees, and even visiting scholars. More important, a critical educational opportunity is compromised, as students become reluctant to take their learning and skills out into the community.
• College C, located in a cash-strapped city, is approached by the mayor's office asking for a reasonable "contribution" to cover support services like police patrols, as more and more residents grumble about the college's tax-exempt status. The timing couldn't be worse, as the college is facing its own financial troubles, even contemplating layoffs. But public sentiment is strong that the college needs to pay its fair share. Townspeople are reacting, in part, to several new crosswalks that were installed at the request of the college. The crosswalks slow down traffic on a main thoroughfare, and come to symbolize what residents view as the college's elitism and cavalier attitude.
• A group of students at University D holds an annual year-end bash that lasts all night and features plenty of loud music, alcohol, and other substances. The party invariably leads to several arrests and strains relations with nearby residents. The university seems helpless to contain the event or keep it from getting out of hand, despite taking disciplinary action toward a handful of offending students.

Most of the time, colleges are regarded by their neighbors in a positive light, as symbols of civic pride, purveyors of high culture, and major employers. But if we take those positive feelings for granted and do little to build and maintain them, sooner or later that may come back to bite us. More to the point, we will have squandered an opportunity to take advantage of a powerful ally in our marketing efforts.

Building strong community relations is an important part of a sound crisis-management program as well as a source of good will. When journalists come to town sniffing out a potentially negative story, they typically seek out local citizens for background information rather than taking the word of the college public-relations department. Yet we often underestimate the influence of people living near our campuses, or worse, we simply ignore them.

No cookie-cutter strategy will serve the needs of every college. But regardless of campus size or location, to be effective, a community-relations program requires both sincerity and respect. Anything less will be exposed as inadequate the instant it is put to the test.

A college can cultivate good relations with its neighbors in ways large and small. Some—like allowing area groups to use campus facilities and offering courses to local citizens at discounted rates—have budgetary and staffing implications for the entire campus and typically fall outside the purview of the public-relations office. Other efforts, like special events, fall more squarely on our turf but may still require the cooperation and participation of a number of other people and programs on the campus.

I once worked on a community-college campus located on the edge of town, quietly nestled in the countryside at the end of a long driveway. What might have seemed an ideal setting for a residential college was a challenge for this one, since it relied on commuters and had a mission to promote access to higher education. The campus would have proved imposing for many of its prospective first-generation students even if it had been situated near the center of town. As it was, the distance from town, the long driveway, and the secluded buildings made the college intimidating to much of its target audience. It's not that we had poor relations with townspeople, it was more a case of "out of sight, out of mind."

Our strategy for helping local residents feel more comfortable on the campus involved the whole college. We hosted "Open College" day, with free mini-classes and campus tours, and set up tables in the main lobby to answer admission and financial-aid questions. We made arrangements with the local transit company to run extra shuttle buses from the center of town to the campus. Student greeters welcomed visitors, and we served them a free picnic lunch, with live music to go with it. The first year drew several hundred visitors, and Open College continued as an annual event long after I worked there.

Open College was held in late summer, before the beginning of the fall semester, and it never could have succeeded without the full cooperation of a majority of the faculty and staff members, who had to alter their schedules and develop appropriate activities for these one-time guests. The president and senior administrators were key players in getting everyone to buy in, so if you are thinking of organizing such a large-scale event, getting them invested is crucial.

Elms College, where I now work, began an outstanding tradition several years ago, inviting everyone in the immediate neighborhood to a Thanksgiving-style dinner in late November. The invitations are printed and mailed well in advance, and the food is excellent. The presidential words of welcome are brief but genuine, with an opportunity for questions from the audience. The gesture is widely appreciated, even by neighbors who are unable to attend. Most fascinating, though, is how the event opens communication among neighbors, many of whom are seeing one another socially for the first time in months.

It's not about the college per se; the idea is to encourage a sense of community that extends beyond our borders, spreading good will in the process. One small example: Last year's dinner was held just weeks after a pair of students had been robbed off campus, and the citizens attending the dinner not only expressed sympathy, but several also volunteered to patrol campus borders at night and report any suspicious activity.

Another of my former employers hosts an annual gathering at the president's residence to which former employees are invited—I'm still invited even though I left more than 20 years ago. The invitations are lovely, the setting beautiful. The conversation flows as freely as the hors d'oeuvres and drinks, as people reconnect with former colleagues and learn about the current state of affairs at the college. There is no formal program or fund-raising appeal, but the event extends the college's "family" by communicating that it values a continuing relationship with all who have worked there.

The key to the success of any community-relations program, whatever your strategy, rests on sincerity. If you make a half-hearted effort, or show up in town only when you need something or anticipate something controversial, you are not likely to get very far. Good relationships of any kind, after all, are built over time and require commitment.

If you are planning an event for your campus neighbors, don't skimp. Treat your guests like any other VIP's, with consideration of their interests and schedules—and provide good food and refreshments when the situation warrants. Your invitation, like any printed publication, serves as a surrogate for the college itself, especially for those invitees who will be unable to attend. It doesn't have to be four-color glossy, but make it attractive and tasteful, so the recipients feel wanted and appreciate the college's values.

Obviously, you want to do everything in your power to avoid a public-relations disaster resulting from angering your neighbors. Sometimes it can't be helped, but if you have treated this important constituency with respect over time, the fallout from a controversial decision or event can be minimized.

Unfortunately, colleges often make matters worse by hiding behind technicalities and acting with arrogance. College A, for example, can rightly point out that it owns the land in question and worked for months trying to find the restaurant owner a new home. College B can point to campus crime statistics to reassure a nervous community that it is safe and secure, and argue that it is fiscally unsound at this time to support new community-development programs.

College C can accurately maintain that it already makes sizable contributions to the town's economy through its payroll, the number of visitors it attracts, and the services it purchases from local vendors. The university can make note of the fact that the wild parties happen only a couple of times a year and involve a small number of students, and can cite its new alcohol-awareness program.

All true, perhaps, but when it comes to community relations, none of it ultimately matters. What counts to the people living near the college is being treated with respect, having administrators demonstrate a willingness to listen and compromise, and seeing actions that affirm that the institution is taking its role as neighbor and community leader seriously.

At many colleges, the term "public relations" mostly means media relations, with some admission and alumni responsibilities thrown in. "Community relations," in practice, often refers to formal partnerships and meetings with public officials and other institutions. As essential as those relationships are, don't make the mistake of overlooking the people next door.

Russell Powell is a public-relations officer at Elms College, in Chicopee, Mass. He previously worked as director of public relations at Hampshire College and at Greenfield Community College, and as a consultant. He writes for On Message, our column on career issues in academic public relations. If you would like to write for the column, send your ideas to careers@chronicle.com.