I recently took a crisis communication class with Grant Gegwich, Director of Corporate
Communications at Independence Blue Cross, and it totally changed my frame of reference on
crisis communication. I went in expecting dramatic case studies and “how to handle a scandal”
lectures, but what really surprised me was how applicable the whole thing is to normal,
everyday situations. The more I learned, the more I kept thinking about 1853 Communications
and how the skills we use to keep a client project on track can be found in the same toolbox as
skills used to manage a major crisis. I realized crisis planning isn’t just for big companies with
polished press conferences; it’s something any student, in a PR firm or not, can use.
The first big part of crisis planning is figuring out what could possibly go wrong. It’s important to
note that this is not negative thinking, it’s just preparation. And if you’ve spent even two minutes
inside a student-run PR firm, or any sort of group project, you know this list practically writes
itself: A client changes direction unexpectedly, a deliverable gets buried under someone’s
downloads folder, a post accidentally goes live at the wrong time, or a deadline creeps up on all
of us at once. In the professional PR world, this is a risk assessment. For us at 1853
Communications, it’s more like “what are the top five things that could give us grief this week?”
Writing the risks out actually makes them feel manageable. Once it’s on paper, you think, “Oh,
that’s annoying, but we can totally handle it.”
After identifying the risks, you figure out who would actually step in if one of these things
happened. Official agencies call this their Crisis Management Team, but you don’t necessarily
need that formal title in your everyday life to know who those people would. For us at 1853,
naturally this would fall on me and my fellow members of the executive board, who have already
help steer the ship. A CMT should consist of the people who stay calm when everyone else is
two seconds from totally spiraling and who are also able to grasp and understand the end goal.
Every organization and group has these steady voices. They reply fast, communicate clearly,
and somehow manage to keep the group chat from imploding.
Next up is the holding statement. A holding statement is a simple “we’re aware and working on
it” placeholder. My crisis class really drilled this into us, and I think it’s a bare bones requirement
for a crisis plan. A holding statement saves you from scrambling when you don’t have all the
answers yet. At 1853, this would be perfect for when a client reaches out with a concern, and
we need a moment to actually gather the details before responding. But like I’ve been saying,
it’s not just for PR. I’ve used that same kind of message structure for group projects, for
professors, and even in my own personal life. A calm, quick acknowledgment can kill chaos
before it even gets started.
So after you have all of the details what do you say? This is where being human matters most.
And being human means acknowledging the emotions tied to the situation. You have to cater to
how the audience feels about what happened. For example, if a group project deadline is
missed, you don’t just send the revised timeline; you start by taking ownership of the mistake: “I
know this is frustrating, and I apologize for the mistake/delay.”
The best messages at 1853 are always the ones that just cut the fluff. No corporate jargon. No
dramatic tone. You start by saying, “We made a mistake here,” or, “We’re really sorry this
happened and we own it.” Then, once you’ve acknowledged the error and the impact, you just
hit the basics: Here’s what happened, here’s what we’re doing next, and here’s what you can
expect. Crisis class reinforced this idea so clearly. People trust clarity. They trust honesty. They
trust that you see and understand the impact. And they trust it a lot more when it sounds like it
came from a real person, not a paragraph approved by a legal team.
And finally, there’s practice. This is the part everyone skips over because it seems boring, but
it’s key. I’m not talking about simulations or complicated meetings, though. I mean the small
“what would we do if” side conversations we already have at 1853. Practice also means
knowing your team inside and out. Understanding your team’s strengths and weaknesses
beforehand is half the battle. Those quick check-ins and knowing who to turn to build the
instincts that actually help you stay calm under pressure. And before you know it, you’ll naturally
become the person who doesn’t totally freak out when something unexpected pops up.
Crisis planning is just a secret superpower for life. You can forget the formal process outside of
work because the framework is what makes things run smoothly. Yeah, it helps with client work,
obviously, but it also smooths out every single messy edge of being a student. Think about it:
group work drama, leadership hiccups, or just plain managing your time. When everyone else is
hitting the panic button, these skills turn you into the most calm, organized person in the room.
Being that steady anchor? That’s seriously the biggest asset you can have, whether you’re
trying to lead 1853 Communications or just trying to survive finals week.