Let's clean house

The post below is copied from my Letter to the Falls Church New Press editor published earlier this week here. It's the forth down.

Tomorrow, I'll vote absentee because I'll be away next week at Valley Forge, PA for a meeting. I'll spare everyone some stretch of an analogy to revolutionary times.

For City Council, I'll be voting an enthusiastic YES for Letty Hardi and Dave Tarter. My third vote will go to Johanna Barry as the least crappy of the three remaining choices. Phil Duncan lost his opportunity to represent me and my family when he wrote a letter pleading for a lesser sentence for a local, admitted and convicted pedophile. Sam Mabry is a wanna-do-nothing bureaucrat determined to stop any forward momentum in the city.

In terms of the school board, i'll be voting with a big smile (and maybe jazz hands) for Erin Gill.  I'll also be voting for Jacob Radcliff and Phil Reitinger because they're new too. We desperately need fresh (non-crazy) voices out there speaking on behalf of our kiddos.

God Bless America (and Happy Halloween!!!)

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I thought life in Falls Church was pretty good until I started paying attention to the city council election. My family loves our community, our neighbors, and our friends here.

I’ve written multiple versions of this letter. Admittedly, it’s been tough to finalize. This was in part because I needed clarity around my own thoughts on redevelopment, anticipated traffic impacts, and stretching our school’s capacity. I’m also hung up on the emerging, disturbing details of current and past community leaders and their combined leniency plea for a convicted pedophile. Their actions defy logic and sound judgment.

So all of the chatter about the pros and cons of taxing those who want to catch a movie, tolling those who want to get to work on-time, and shutting out those seeking a high-rise home in a small city (especially if they have kids – yikes!) is a distraction from our first order of business.

We need a clean house.

We need a fresh start with a new team – no incumbents or past members. There is too much baggage (with little evidence of any healing or self-reflection done) for this group to function effectively. Unfortunately, the math doesn’t work out. With only one first-time candidate among the five, the refresh can’t be done in one election but we must start here.

The same is true for the school board. We need a clean slate of leaders who are ready to roll up their sleeves and work together without resorting to tactics that distract from the number one issue – school kids.

We can start on November 3 by electing a team to effectively represent us, work together, and be trusted to make compassionate, courageous leadership decisions.

a more graceful transition

There is a relatively short phase when people are most alert, tuned in, eager to grow, and open to new ideas. From observation and experience, this period starts about three years after graduation or starting the job and lasts until the "big promotion"-- the one that moves someone from do-er to manager/titled leader. In very rough, estimated numbers, this phase lasts about 10 years.

Mysteriously, the moment that some professionals make this management leap, they give up the work that got them there.  They lean back on the technical stuff because they feel expert enough. They lean in on the management stuff because it feels like a well-deserved reward and there are people now who need them to lead.

In the transition from do-er to manager, another interesting phenomenon tends to happen. People bring the confidence gained through technical accomplishments and assume a natural appitude in management. Unfortunately, these skills don't carry over. Few people are naturally gifted in the professional care and nuturing required to grow and inspire a team. Something is missing.

The key to overcoming this problem of being stuck on top with no chance of succeeding is two-fold.  

1. First, no one should let themselves (or the managers under them in the organization) off the hook for continuing to gain technical skills. Without continuing to gain technical skills (not just management/leadership tips and tricks), professionals risk irrelevance sooner than they'd like.
2. The second piece is fiercely and consistently coaching and mentoring people through the transition and then again through all of the signficant advances after that. Investing in coaching-- ideally by an independent provider-- is preventive medicine. 

Proactive transition management reduces conflict and increases organizational performance.

promises and intentions

We all try not to make promises we can't keep. That's true for me but I've found that I have a better track record with others than with myself. So instead of making another promise here, I'll just state my intention. Use this writing space to be the first, most raw and unrefined versions of the thoughts I want to share on work-- communications, meetings, federal government, etc. and some personal stuff-- kids, pets, life stuff.

Putting that stuff here makes sense because my regular readers are those I'm closest to (thanks Mom and Dad!)-- the most forgiving of typos, the most welcoming of random thoughts, the most willing to engage on or offline.

I've been so lucky over the last couple of months to find additional writing outlets through other blogs/online magagines. Unfortunately, the volume of words that those opportunities created (and frankly the exposure) has me writing less-- not more.

I have coffee in the biggest cup from the cabinet, a baby on my lap, and a bunch of stuff in the queue. Here's I go... (again.)

today we say goodbye

To my sweet, sweet Gracie girl. We knew this day was coming. We knew it was coming because accepting that our pets live shorter lives than we do is part of the deal going-in. “Feed me, walk me, love me, and know that eventually you’re going to have to make the hard decision to let me go.” We knew this day was coming in a more real, specific way when you started to limp last June.

You come into our lives Easter weekend 2008. We drove 12 hours down and back to the Little Victories shelter in West Virginia to pick you up. Daddy was determined to get there before you spent one more night not knowing if you were wanted. Saying that we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into understates the truth. Meeting you that evening though, we felt that intense, instantaneous click that makes “love at first sight” the lovely cliché that it is. This match was meant to be. You were strong, focused, gorgeous, and completely terrified to get into the back of the car but you trusted us. And so we went.

Months later we drove back to retrieve your sister. While you two had a tough time getting along for a while, we were all committed to working it out and eventually settled into a rhythm. Some of my best memories—that seem long ago now—were the hours we spent running on the trail together. I felt so zen (whatever that is, really) for the 2 seconds each morning when we were all moving in sync. The rest of the time we were a hot mess of maniacal barking, muzzled growls, and tangled leashes- understandably causing concern through the neighborhood. And so we went.

You designated yourself as our protector and made us your full-time job. You were always working. You never fetched a thing for fun or dug into the bin of unchewed dog toys by the back door. One by one, you welcomed three babies into your pack. Your idea of a good time was when we were all together. Safe. Add a belly rub and a couple stray goldfish crackers and you were in heaven. And so we went.

Shortly after Linc arrived, we noticed that you were favoring that back left leg. Our worries were confirmed in our vet's tiny exam room. The sharp edges of the stainless steel exam table started to blur. She walked that fine line of delivering news that was clear but not crushing. As we suspected, there was nothing we could do to stop the deterioration of your spine and they couldn’t tell us how long we had. Instead, we agreed to make every day as good as possible. I like to think you agreed to that pact. And so we went.

Other people assured us that when the time had come, we’d know. In the last week, there was no denying the look in your eyes. While this is hard, we know it’s the right thing to do. For more than seven years now, you’ve breathed a huge sigh from your bed in our room when I turned out the light. The house is quiet, the day is done and you relax because we’re all tucked in for the night. I looked forward to hearing that sigh and will miss it as I will miss so many things about you. And so we go to say goodbye.

Until we meet again, thank you sweet, sweet Gracie girl. Go in peace.

dressed out

I'm simplifying.

For those who know me well, you can probably imagine why. I complicate things.

I don't mean to but I can't help it-- and it starts at breakfast. For example, I'm on an oatmeal kick at the moment. Easy enough, right?  Sure but no dump and stir packets will do (though they are in the house because my more sensible half takes them for his breakfast). No, I instead confine rolled oats, salt, coconut oil, toasted pecans, a squirt of agave, and fresh blueberries in a travel mug with some boiling water. This is all assembled while my 14 month old's chubby fingers empty every box and can from the pantry stored lower than 28 inches.

After I dust off the baby and restock the pantry, I head back to my room to get dressed. As you can probably guess, things get worse. Imagine for a moment my "before" closet. Actually, don't bother.  Just see below.

An affection for clothes and shoes coupled with 20+ years of disposable income (including a prevailing goal in my twenties to start every Monday with "something with tags on it") took its toll. The drawers were bursting and rods bowing under the weight of "I might want to wear that one day."

I'm not exactly sure what (or who) caused the breaking point but I'm there now.  I am over my stuff so it's out. I've been convinced by the ideas in books like this one from best-selling author, Evan Zislis, that life will be better when it is less complicated. In short, I'm fine with the hard stuff being hard and the stuff that doesn't matter being either easy or gone. 

Deciding to simplify then actually doing it are two different things, of course. Within minutes of coming to this realization, I made it complicated. Grand visions and aspirations bloomed and, all of a sudden, the very act of simplifying seemed daunting.  I needed a plan.

That plan started with (of course) a Google search that led me to this Real Simple article on wardrobe basics. Of course, I couldn't just read it and go clean out my closet.  No, I downloaded it, tailored it to my tastes, edited it, formatted it, printed it, taped it to the wall in my closet.... then cleaned out my closet.

Things are better now.  I've actually taken another pass through since I took these pictures to eliminate everything outside of a basic black, white, blue, and gray palette.

My goal was to put some structure to my closet clean-out plan and head into Fall with a clearer picture of what I actually needed-- versus what was on sale at Banana Republic or looked cute in the moment. What I got was that and more-- surprising given that we are still just talking about clothes.

As a regular reader, you might have reached this point wondering what this has to do with federal government programs and communications. For me, they're related in that a simplified life helps conserve energy for both client and personal challenges. I honestly feel lighter, my brain less cluttered, and more focused. Having a plan made decisions easier and more deliberate. Now done with this step, having less stuff to wrangle in the morning makes me feel more productive, organized, and capable of tackling other big messes. That pantry is next.

Here's the printable list. I hope you find it helpful too.

move right

When we win a new consulting job there is excitement and movement. The win justifies the research, writing, thought, and collaboration work invested. That’s exciting. The hunt is over and it paid off this time. 

There is also movement- a state of being our business model depends on.  Without much seasonality to the sales cycle, we need a reason for things to happen. Wins mean new project assignments and elevated responsibilities that are certainly good for the victors. The vacancies left create a trickle-down effect that is generally good for everyone else.

Without the swirl and churn of a periodic win, the business feels stagnant—even as billable hours flow and profits earned.

So we go in search of more wins. Because of the limits on discretionary spending and the finite nature of most budgets, we push beyond the clients serve today to find a client we’re not yet serving. In and of itself, this pursuit isn’t wrong but in practice it is distracting. 

Between wins, there is a better way to create movement. Instead of bouncing to the next RFP, we can dig in—really dig in—on the issue we were hired to solve. While fulfilling the client’s need, we can find the others working this issue (wherever they might be), start conversations, do the primary research, explore, talk to, test out, and refine the solutions. 

Every win should mean fulfilling the commitment to the client AND making a contribution to the community.

Shake it off

Charles Sykes/Invision/AP

Taylor Swift was in town this week. According to the dozens of Facebook posts I saw, everyone who is anyone (with daughters) but me knew this and they were all at the show. Of course, my girls are too little now to go to a concert like this but it made me look forward to bopping and gushing along side of them over future pop stars.

All in all, it was a good week.  How about you?  

I made progress on a couple of big client assignments, hit "save and send" on series I'm writing on management consulting for another publication (more on that to come), and tried a bunch of simple, new recipes with all of this summer produce.

One big downer midweek was receiving some scathing, poke-in-the-eye feedback on a piece of writing I'm doing for a client. The piece itself is a nothing special little memo on an uncontroversial topic communicating a deadline far in the future. So at first I wasn't sure why it got any attention-- positive or negative-- at all. Who would really care so much that they'd take the time to write a page of comments in an email, then (as if totally exasperated) dramatically suggest a complete re-do in their closing line?

The feedback came a bit out of left field from someone not directly involved in the project. As I tend to do, I first took it personally and got defensive. Check. I felt picked on. After all, what did he know? It was fine.

It took a day or so to calm down and 4 times reading through the comments (which stung less with each reading) before I could effectively process them. In the end, I decided that, while the tone was harsh, some comments were fair so I worked them in. Actually, I would have had to do this step anyway because that's what's they're paying me to do.

Taking a little advice from Ms. Swift, I'm going to shake it off. With that, the week is almost done.  Have a great weekend!

into africa

My family runs A is for Africa, a small, non-profit organization aimed at improving education and future opportunities for students at a rural school in Tanzania, Matim. 

The organization was started by my sister Molly and is run day-to-day by my dad Rick (or baba-Molly/Molly’s dad as the Matim students call him (snapshots from his recent trip last week are above.)

The history on how this came to be is a classic tale with a twisty ending. Girl travels, girl has moving experience making her aware of a great need, and girl comes home wanting to “do something.” The twist here at the end was that she actually did. She did do something.

That ending became the beginning of a whole new story about creating an organization from a blank sheet of paper, a new story about the hard, sometimes awkward task of raising money, and a new story about working with family (not for ninnies).

There are oodles of strategy, communication, and organizational lessons that I observed from the sidelines over the years on the stand-up of A is for Africa. Maybe in future posts I’ll share a few but today’s post is about a single and important point that struck me during a recent fundraiser.

Things happen to spark ideas. The possibilities flash across your mind and can burn for hours (or sometimes days) creating details in your imagination. The problem? There is a short window of opportunity to seize that heat and to start. It is carpe diem applied to ideas.

The Latin phrase carpe diem is defined as an urging to make the most of the present time and give little thought to the future. The concept of act now without concern for what comes next is important- especially when you sense you’re onto something. The heat generated at the beginning is usually short-lived and will fan out without some immediate action.

You might delay taking the first step because you don’t know how to take steps 2 to infinity. You worry that you don’t have a flushed out plan, don’t have the money in hand, or (argh!) don’t have catchy name. When the future work anticipated to bring the idea to fruition feels overwhelming, the very potential that makes the idea so exciting can unceremoniously crush it. You think, “how could I possibly get from here: tired and dirty but fired-up (and ogled at the top of the world by some old guy?) to there:  gorgeous and gracefully introducing a line-up of notable speakers while raising thousands of dollars?

Wait, what?

Ok, a quick step back in time…

In 2007, Molly went to Tanzania to hike Mount Kilimanjaro and do a site-seeing safari. This wasn’t her first trip to Africa but it was the most physically ambitious. She intentionally selected an outfitter that had an excellent rating for safety AND a track-record for fair compensation for their guide staff. The 10-day package included the hike support, photo safari, and a visit to a local school for some to be determined community project—in that order which became important to how this story played out.

The first part was the hike. The climb was crazy hard. In some dark, scary, and digestively uncomfortable moments, her Tanzanian guide helped. He helped in the way that you’re forever grateful for the skill and kindness presented at precisely the moment when you needed it.

The second part was the safari. The ride was filled with immense natural beauty and thankfully some wine.

The last part was school. The project provided an emotional and economic peek into the lives rural Tanzanian children and the devoted few trying to create the biggest opportunity possible out of a scarce few resources. Think a couple of paper scraps, one pen, no books. Think no bathroom walls to graffiti, no stinky locker rooms, no little round seats fixed to little rectangle folding tables for lunch. No lunch.

Any one of these experiences might be inspiring but the combination of the three was killer. She was set up.

The hike showed her the people, the safari showed the potential, and the school showed the need.

She wanted to help the kids on the ground in return for the guides who’d helped her at 20,000 feet—a kind of circle of life-y, karmic repayment plan.

So what Molly did after coming home from her 2007 Kili hike was to take a handful of small steps on a new journey.

1. The first thing was to not wait until she came home. Paying by the minute in packed internet café with other anxious travelers looking over her shoulder, she sent an email saying that a) she’d successfully finished the hike and b) she wanted to do something to give back to the amazing community of people she’d met along the way.
2. The second thing was to direct that email went to my parents. A pair who had an obvious interest in her well-being but there’s more. For Molly (and for the rest of us “kids”), our parents do all the normal parent-y things from hosting Thanksgiving to telling random stories, multiple times. And maybe one of the biggest things they do is hold us accountable for both our actions and pursuit of our dreams. Tell them you’re going to do something and they’ll follow-up incessantly until it happens. People like this in our lives might vary-- parents, spouses, friends, or bosses—but regardless of official title, they should be kept close.
3. Once home, she reached out to all of the people who’d said anything like “oh wow, you’re hiking Kilimanjaro?  I’ve always wanted to do that.”  Her message back?  You can, you should, and when you’re done let me know. Now seven years later, she’s been connected to more than a dozen people who’ve gone and had a similar experience who were easy allies in achieving the A is for Africa mission.
4. And then she did a bunch of administrative stuff like set up the 501 (c) (3), craft the website, and create a bank account. Altogether, this probably took about two days of work spread over two weeks. This “infrastructure” provided the mechanism for collecting funds as they started to trickle in and is still in place today.

What’s remarkable is not that they were particularly strategic but that they were done- a series of very do-able steps down a path that we all might follow when similarly inspired.

Between 2007 and today, organizationally a lot has changed.  Molly transitioned day-to-day operations of A is for Africa to my dad. This happened not coincidentally after he completed his own Kili summit hike and retired from his 60 hour+/week federal job. The leadership team has expanded to include my mom, MaryAnne, and sister, Anna. These two are important engines driving progress on many of today’s top priority projects, maintaining communications with the growing donor community, conducting oversight, and providing a running hilarious, insightful commentary on the challenges of both fulfilling the A is for Africa mission and working with family.

With more than $100,000 gathered and spent on priority projects (A is for Africa applies no overhead to donated funds), the impact has been amazing. Matim has earned a significant jump in the national school ranking on improved standardized test scores. Specific initiatives completed include an electrified computer lab, thriving after-school clubs, 900 lunches served every day, and perhaps most importantly, smiling faces turning up each morning ready to learn.

The lesson I take away from Molly and A is for Africa is not to let the future overwhelm great ideas. Carpe diem and make something happen.

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If you'd like to learn more about A is for Africa's mission and work at Matim, please visit the website aisforafrica.org. Oh, and buying my book Flock helps too! All of the proceeds go to A is for Africa-- just thought I'd mention that!

Hey B'More, what's my action?

A year ago, most white Americans would have put race relations in the important but not really category. Priorities started to shift in recent months for all of the visible reasons playing out in Ferguson, New York, Charleston, and, most recently, Baltimore. 

I’ll take a day off from my usual ramblings about management consulting and communication best practices. Posting on anything that might be viewed as pedestrian in light of the local news doesn't feel quite right. 

I’m stuck on how to translate something big and out of reach—police abuse and public safety—into something actionable for myself. After watching, reading, and listening for a couple of days, you'd think there are only two sides. This black and white issue is made to seem, well, black and white.

Police abuse is, of course, real and happens in communities that are disproportionately poor and made up of underrepresented groups. Those citizens distrust the police and are frustrated with the chronic inability of society to engage this issue in a meaningful way. At the same time, officers have an impossibly hard job that few of us would do for any amount of money. Police work attracts a unique individual willing to swear under oath to uphold the law to the best of their ability and knowledge without malice or ill-will.

Maybe because two out of my three brothers-in-law are police, I watch the news and think but, but, but… The people we personally know never match the stereotype. This is true of the police, the residents, the kids throwing bottles, the media, everyone. One said brother-in-law works in Baltimore. He spent the last couple of days and nights standing side-by-side in all his gear with his coworkers trying to manage the crowds. I've been wondering what he’s thinking while he stands there. Maybe about his newborn son? Maybe about how young everyone looks? Maybe about his injured colleagues? Maybe about coffee? I don’t have the data to back this up but I believe he drinks more (bad) coffee than any other human.

I’m thinking about how different our days are. Today, I’m worrying about polishing an important PowerPoint presentation. Meanwhile, he’s on the street worrying about when and how this is going to end—both the protests and the much bigger issues of discrimination and injustice. It’s different.

Ignoring issues because of distance is so convenient until they’re at your backdoor. I’m in Virginia and the 40 mile trip up 95 feels closer today than any normal day (even with traffic.) And Baltimore is so familiar. I was just there for a conference and was thinking that my kids haven’t been to the aquarium in a while.

Distance is physical but it’s also conceptual. The big, loud, smoky forces playing out there seem really far away from race issues that come up at the office. Or are they? I don’t know but I’d love to have a conversation about it and don't know where to start. I don’t initiate conversations on race at work partly out of fear of saying the wrong thing and partly out of fear of upsetting what seems like a pretty productive work environment.

Are discussions on race something that should be reserved for the annual diversity initiative refresher course or is there a more important, continuous thread to be explored? I suspect the latter. I love Starbucks' idea to open the door to conversations on race. I wonder how that’s going for them. Has anyone gotten a cup of coffee with Race Together on it?  I haven’t but it makes me want to go order a latte (and maybe one for my brother-in-law so he can see what decent coffee tastes like.)

If there is some good that might come of the recent events in Baltimore and other places maybe it’s an opening for a conversation. There are oodles of “how to” guides online.  Here’s one. Here's another. If you have the opportunity and take it, I’d love to hear how it goes.

Have you noticed that movies set far into the future cast actors of all different races and it’s NOT a part of the story line? Everyone works seamlessly together to save the planet from rogue asteroids. Though we have a ways to go, race-based injustice feels like something we’re going to eventually outgrow. On days like today, we remember that that future can’t come fast enough.