But could it really work this way? Could students without any professional video experience generate tape that was (a) interesting and (b) technically good enough to be edited without enormous amounts of labor? Gruenberg tested the idea at 11 schools in New England and the Midwest in 1987 and found, to his dismay, that the answer was no. "The early footage was a disaster," Gruenberg recalls. The cameras bounced up and down and meandered aimlessly; the content was often frivolous. Gruenberg recognized right away that his notion of the product had to change. "We had to teach students about video, or else we'd always be spending too much time on the back end of the process." In essence, they had to create a curriculum and a format for making the videos.
Today Gruenberg thinks he has a first-rate system for introducing students and faculty advisers to video. It didn't come cheaply. The company has invested more than $100,000 to produce a series of 15 video lessons designed by Howie Masters, a former producer and director of ABC's "Good Morning, America." (An earlier effort to create a written training text proved a total waste, notes Gruenberg; nobody read it.) The lessons begin simply (how to use the camera, how to shoot close-ups, how to use microphones and lights) and move along to more advanced topics (how to plan stories, how to review and select the best footage). To manage the process of assembling tapes, VideOvation has created a 19-segment format that's synchronized to the lessons. For each segment -- fall sports, for example -- students get simple instructions for what to keep in mind; they also get periodic deadlines for getting their cassettes back to the editing studios at VideOvation.
To differentiate itself from most of its competitors, VideOvation is attempting to position its program as a curricular tool as well as a product. Every school is assigned a field producer, shared by 10 to 20 schools, who assists students and faculty advisers on technical issues. Unlike field staff at other companies, whose main role is to sell, VideOvation's people have all studied filmmaking or video broadcasting in college, Gruenberg says, and have at least five years of professional experience. Obviously, this boosts the company's front-end costs: on top of the equipment, these personnel costs add $1,000 per school. But Gruenberg feels it's worth the money for at least two reasons. First, he thinks it helps the company control production costs and assure quality. And second, it becomes a selling point with principals who, he argues, in times of budgetary pressure seek cost-effective ways to enrich their school curricula.
Signing up schools: When he began, a more wide-eyed Gruenberg thought that lining up a few hundred high schools would be a walk in the park. After all, he wouldn't be asking principals to spend a dime (the students or their parents would do the spending), and he'd be supplying a worthwhile program. Who could say no?
But without a track record and references, Gruenberg found that U.S. high schools weren't easy to sell. "We wanted access to the top decision maker -- the principal as opposed to a business manager or activities manager," he says. It only made sense, he felt, to go after the person who had the power to assign faculty advisers; a good adviser, he thought, could make the difference between a successful school program and a dud. Unfortunately, principals, especially in the larger schools he wanted most, weren't easy to see. "In a lot of schools," he notes, "we couldn't get in the door."
When Gruenberg or the other employees did talk to principals, the feedback was often mixed. Many liked the idea of kids learning video -- or so they said -- but how exactly would it work? How much faculty time would it take? How much student time? And how might it undermine the popular yearbook? Because the VideOvation employees' experience with schools was so limited, they didn't have convincing answers. Most principals told them to come back when they did.
By mid-1988, Gruenberg thought the company was finally in a position to describe the program in detail. He and a staff of nine, including three field producers, had been working on an experimental basis with 28 schools; for the 1988-89 school year, they wanted 200 schools. To orchestrate the expansion, Gruenberg recruited a sales manager from a major publishing company who urged, among other things, that VideOvation try teaming up with one of the better-known yearbook companies to help sign up schools. It sounded fine to Gruenberg. He worked out deals with several sales representatives from Taylor Publishing, the number-two yearbook company.
But the experiment was a bust. Gruenberg and others at VideOvation succeeded in getting renewal commitments from 25 of the 28 existing schools; but just 18 new schools joined the program, for a total of 43. "Only 4 or 5 of the new schools came from the yearbook reps," Gruenberg says. The problem, he feels, was one of access. "[The reps] didn't know principals -- they knew yearbook advisers, many of whom were threatened by our product." Whatever the problem, it cost the company both time and money. With schools, he now knows, you need to have agreements negotiated by late spring or be prepared to wait another year.
On the theory that the wrong contact can be worse than no contact at all, Gruenberg and Bob Carl, a video-industry consultant, spent several months trying to identify other possible marketing partners. The question they asked over and over: who had the principal's ear? They thought about suppliers of such products as class rings, caps and gowns, even athletic equipment; yearbook companies weren't even considered, Gruenberg says, because of their perceived lack of interest. Finally, just before Thanksgiving in 1988, they zoomed in on a company named QSP Inc., whose business is school fund-raising.
As the country's leader in the field, QSP, a Reader's Digest subsidiary in Ridgefield, Conn., specializes in helping principals raise money for everything from school equipment to team uniforms to class trips by getting students to sell magazine subscriptions, food, and gifts. Its field managers knew little about video. What they seemed to have -- and what Gruenberg hopes to tap -- is access to the top. Gruenberg is wagering that QSP field managers will be able to parlay their contacts and credibility into commitments from principals to participate in the VideOvation program. What began as a trial relationship was extended in June 1989 for one year; a new two-or three-year contract was being negotiated in March.
