Mission Statement

We tend to think of a mission statement as something you might see on an organization’s web page—a two-page blurb about “who we are, what we value, and where we are going.” Mission statements frequently get criticized because they seem to be honored more in the breach than in the observance of stated principles.

They also tend to have excess verbiage, weird grammatical twists, and four and five-syllable words. It can be a contest to see who can say “we want to do good” in the most obtuse way possible. If they were bricks, you could use one to hold a heavy door open.

But just because they tend we tend to write them that way does not mean that the concept is a bad one. Instead of writing one chockablock full of paragraphs, we should aim for something more like two or three sentences. We need to write a mission statement that is simple, declarative, and hopefully inspirational – not so long and tedious that it makes you want to curl up for a good nap before you finish reading it.

When I started, I mentioned mission statements being something that organizations have, but they are good for individuals, too. Unless you want to broadcast them to the world, a personal mission statement is something that you share internally, a mantra, prayer, or statement of purpose. Once again, brevity is best. And you have no need to be shy about it being simple and to the point. After all, you are the primary audience.

Years ago, I had what I thought was a wonderful girlfriend. I was lost in graduate school and having a terrible time of it. My girlfriend, also an anthropologist, decided that my potential for success was never going to equal hers. In a confrontation, she accused me of having no internal mission or direction. There was silence while I thought about this. She peered at me and asked, “So?” Maybe I was more surprised than she was when I told her, “I want to make a positive difference in this world and help make it a better place.” She seemed surprised and not pleased that I had an answer. In the following moments, I felt good that I had crystalized this as a mission. We soon broke up, but I guess I should thank her because she forced that moment of clarity.

That one statement became my mission statement during my years as an applied or practicing anthropologist. There were no two-page paragraphs of tortured verbiage or flowery language.

I bet you have one, even if you’ve never considered it. Think about the course of the river that is your life. Where does it tend to flow? Now, capture in a simple, brief image.

Remember: no flowery language, five-syllable words, or convoluted grammatical constructions. You are the only one who’ll hear it, and you don’t want to put yourself to sleep because it’s boring!