Everyone wants beautiful homepages. It doesn’t matter who’s running the organization, what industry they’re in, what design trend is hot, or what CMS is being used. A homepage is the front door to an organization, and organizations want homepages that reflect their sparkling missions and content.

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Obviously this is where we, the web professionals, come in. We identify patterns in a company’s content and design. We build an ordered system to manage the site, with content stored in structured fields and cross-referenced by neatly stacked taxonomic containers. We build drool-worthy designs into pretty template patterns, into which a CMS can automagically flow that content. Relax, humans! The computer robots have got this.

And, of course, the robots drive homepage content, too. A common type of homepage—which I see a lot in my work with nonprofit organizations, but can be found in any industry—is a mix of somewhat static, explanatory content, with dynamic chunks populated by the most recently published content from a CMS. When these organizations are on tight budgets, often without a lot of staff and resources, it seems like a good idea to code the static parts and automate the dynamic parts. That way, staff doesn’t have to fuss with edits, updates, or technical interfaces, and the organization can focus on doing important work helping people. Homepage: done.

Until the request inevitably comes: the board of directors needs a slider because they want a way to highlight more than one post at a time. Furthermore, they need each slide to be able to feature a blog post OR a donate page OR an about page OR their gift catalog. And it’s important to the executive director that all static blurbs be wordsmithed especially for the homepage, and the blurbs may need to be tweaked during peak fundraising months. My easy homepage publishing system just left the building.

Maybe the robots shouldn’t win#section2

After having this conversation about 242 times, I’ve realized that the homepage is almost always a giant exception to the rest of the ordered system for a reason. It’s the most human page on the site, where the potential helpfulness of computer robots collides with the messy reality of humans.

The homepage is a company’s elevator pitch that must telegraph an organization’s priorities and values as succinctly as possible. The fundraising department, program staff, and board members may feel anxious about ensuring their interests are visible on this valuable real estate. These internal forces, or the politics of partner organizations or funders, will affect what is presented on a homepage, even if it may not be the most logical choice for content, design, or structure.

Instead of wishing for (the ever-elusive) Total & Complete Control, it’s more useful to accept this human foible. Rather than fighting it, let’s build something specific to handle this exception better, in a way that’s least likely to break down the road.

Of blobs and chunks#section3

Here’s a homepage I am currently rebuilding for Small Can Be Big, a non-profit project of the marketing agency Boathouse. Small Can Be Big works with Boston-area partner charities to help keep local families from slipping into homelessness. Let’s break it down:





Hero area: the organization wants to be able to put anything they want here. This content and its design are unique to the homepage. “How it Works”: three quick points about the organization’s process. These are also unique to the homepage.

“How it Makes a Difference”: A list of brief highlights about the organization’s impact. Blurbs very similar to these live on an “Impact” landing page of the site, and could be pulled in automatically. The content admin, however, needs to be able to wordsmith these blurbs specifically for the homepage, so they are unique. A newsletter subscribe form: this form may get used elsewhere on the site, so it will be stored in a sitewide-accessible block or a widget and then displayed on the homepage and on other pages as needed. The latest blog post: This will be automatically populated. A custom call to action with supporting content, just for the homepage.

So, we’ve got one sitewide, global element here (the subscribe form), and one systematized, auto-populating region (the latest blog post). How do we let this organization custom-craft the other pieces of this page?

One way to approach this is to create this page in a single body field, and give the client a WYSIWYG with which to maintain it. This offers the ultimate flexibility. But as anyone who’s written a goodly amount of HTML knows, giving content admins a big WYSIWYG blob can lead to broken code, elements that aren’t accessible or semantic, failures in the responsiveness of the page, and content that doesn’t fit within the constraints of the design. This can quickly lead to a schlocky-looking (that’s a technical term) homepage.

A better approach is to break the page up into little custom WYSIWYG chunks (blocks, panes, or custom text widgets). You assemble them on the homepage via whatever best methods your CMS offers, and the client maintains each and every little snippet in its own block.

The advantage is that the homepage gets broken down into components, reinforcing—at least somewhat—the separation of the content from its layout and design. For example, the “How it Makes a Difference” chunk might be built as four separate blocks or custom text widgets, floating next to each other:





The downside is more complicated management over time: the containers holding these chunks are generic tools, wired together in a front-end display. Each chunk may be maintained at a different URL. Specific help text can be tricky to include. And lots of small bits in the backend can be difficult for content admins to track, especially if there aren’t editorial guidelines and a strong governance plan in place. Eventually, the quality of the homepage, and the site, can start to degrade.

Let’s embrace the exception!#section4

What I’ve been increasingly doing is making a content type that exists for one purpose: to serve as a structured form for homepage content entry and maintenance. This can feel weird from an information architecture perspective. Content types are generally reserved for pieces of content that share common attributes, implying that there is more than one instance of that content. As one of my colleagues said the first time I suggested this: “A whole content type for one piece of content?! That’s not what content types are for!”

But here’s exactly when we need to check back in with the goals of building CMS content structures in the first place: robots are here to serve humans, not the other way around. If this exception is needed, let’s embrace it rather than fight it. A single form to edit all of the custom content on the homepage can make things easier on the content admin, and helps enforce design cohesion and content consistency.

In breaking down the content type for the Small Can Be Big homepage, I looked for logical content and design patterns so I could group fields in a helpful way. For example, the three “How it Works” blurbs are there to inform donors about how their contributions work:





It’s logical for this sort of element to live on a homepage, and it will likely always be needed for this site. So I built it as a list of three items, and called it exactly what it is: How it Works. In the CMS, it looks like this:





I included help text about what HTML goes into each field, and some sample content. If the homepage changes in the future, these fields can be tweaked, or deleted and replaced with something else. But if the content structure remains the same, the design and/or layout can easily change to restyle this same three-item list. Either way, this setup is flexible.

The homepage edit form is your oyster#section5

How you break down a homepage into a content type is dependent on the kind of content and design you’re working with. In the Small Can Be Big example, I’ve broken the form itself into the different content and design areas of the homepage: the lead feature (hero) section, the impact section, etc. This makes the form a lot less overwhelming to edit.





The breakdown is also dependent on your client’s staff resources. In my example, the client has a dedicated technical person on staff to edit homepage content. We collaborated with the content admins throughout the development process; we know the homepage content admin knows HTML well, and when we asked him what editing tools he wanted, he requested no WYSIWYG. I wrote help text to remind him of the HTML elements that are allowed and expected in the field (if he tried to put messier HTML in there, it’d get stripped out by the CMS), and provided him with a quick inline example or reminder of the content that should go there.

For a less technically savvy admin, I might make more fields, rather than fewer. Fields could be made to hold icons, images, and alt text. I could put WYSIWYG editors on each of the text fields, customized for the expected markup. Alternatively, I could make every element its own field: image fields with clear, descriptive help text for the icons, and plain text fields for the H3 headers and paragraph blurbs. I would then output those values into customized HTML templates, giving me complete control of the markup around the content.

The homepage edit form is a fantastic opportunity to add helpful UI elements for content administrators. It’s also a very good idea to add a general help text block, like I did in the example, linking off to the site documentation. You could also link here to the site’s style guide, if it has one, or add voice and tone notes.

Of course, how far you can take this is also a function of your project budget and timeline. If possible, it’s wise to build time into ongoing project budgets for regular adjustments to these customizations, to ensure they continue to be helpful for content admins in everyday use. But even adding a little structure and help text can go a long way.

Let the humans win#section6

My job is to map messy human communications onto computer systems to help make it easier for people to manage those communications. That means that I need to balance the boolean realm of computer code with the far more ambiguous needs of organizational communications. By creating a structured exception for the very human homepage, I can better ensure the consistency I crave as a developer while giving content admins the flexibility they need.

Adding more logic and structure to homepage editing has another benefit as well: it encourages people to evaluate the meaning of their homepage content, making them plain old better. Rather than concentrating solely on visual “wow!”, and putting up icons and copy “because it just needs a little something there,” a structured edit form can force people to inventory what’s there, and identify that “little something’s” purpose. This encourages conversation around the role of the homepage, and keeps it from becoming a pretty parking lot subject to the whims of the boardroom.

The homepage exception is just one example of the many kinds of accommodations that human beings need in the coded, structured systems we build for them. It’s our job to adapt computer systems to their needs, not the other way around. If we don’t, then our robot overlords have won. If we expect, plan for, and even celebrate these messy, human exceptions to our logical systems, we get closer to making a web that works for both people and machines.