I'll be graduating in a few months. But before I leave, I thought it'd be interesting to be a prospective student again - to relive my own introduction to AU in the modern day.
The natural starting point was american.edu. I'm from Seattle, and the AU Web site was integral in my application process since I was unable to visit east coast schools before I applied.
As I sat down at my computer, I started with the AU Ambassadors - what better place to begin than with real AU students?
When I reached their Web site and attempted to find the date of a tour, I encountered the Ambassadors' most recent schedule. It was from the week of March 23, 2003.
Deep down, I knew the truth - somewhere on AU's campus, there's a roomful of dead AU Ambassadors, long forgotten and unable to update their Web site these past six years. I said a quick prayer and continued my journey as a modern day prospective student.
I decided to seek out online guidance from AU Media Relations and quickly found the facts I'd hoped to hear on my ill-fated AU Ambassador-led tour - a current profile of the most recent freshman class at AU, the Class of 2010. Wait ... I thought, something's not right here either.
Desperation set in. Statistics were outdated and the AU Ambassadors were all dead.
My rescuer was the Virtual Tour. Starting at the Watkins building (a memorable building if I've ever seen one), I learned that Watkins is the home of the Department of Art, which will move to the under-construction Katzen Arts Center, slated to open in 2004.
We'd been betrayed! I began to feel sick knowing that students had been taking classes for years in an unsafe construction zone. I'd always wondered about the slab concrete floors and unfinished walls ... now they can be explained: they just aren't done!
After more online research, I decided to see AU with my own eyes. I headed to campus and was nearly foiled when the parking lot on my AU map turned out to be an enormous pit filled with rebar and concrete.
My journey was making me hungry, so I headed to TDR. I tried to explain that the most recent dining services calendar available online said it was National Honey Month. Well guess what? It's not.
Disappointed and sugar-free, I decided to tour campus on my own - just me and my trusty list of buildings from the Registrar's Office.
But when I eagerly reached the site of the Cassell Center, I found it had been demolished ... seven years ago. And since I didn't have a hard hat, I couldn't enter the under-construction Katzen. I headed home, a disappointed modern day prospective student.
Prospective students don't care about the AU of 2001. They care about the current incarnation, the AU they will be a part of.
To address this problem, AU is spending thousands of dollars to reinvent our Web presence. But while the project will include a content management system to assist departments in updating their content, I fear new software alone won't change old hard-wired attitudes.
We must not squander the opportunity to start anew - and that will require AU administrators to realize that a neglected Web site doesn't attract visitors, nor reflect kindly on the institution. Our current Web site is an embarrassment to our whole community. Let's not go down that same road again.
And while I'm not speaking to every campus office, I'm speaking to the vast majority. It wasn't hard to find the examples of outdated content listed above. They're only the tip of the sword.
If we can't keep our online content current, then we have no business being online. And maybe that's the way to go. Let's go back to the Stone Age; the Internet is probably a fad anyways.
Carl Seip is a senior in the School of Public Affairs and the AU issues columnist for The Eagle. You can reach him at edpage@theeagleonline.com.
