Making written things beautiful makes them more useful.  Why? Because practically everyone is drawn toward beauty – a lovely person, a glorious sunset, a brilliantly colored butterfly. Making a written product beautiful is fundamentally welcoming because it sends the message that I, as the writer, value your opinion of what I’ve done so much that I want to make it as accessible, inviting, and understandable as possible.

I’ve always been fond of good graphics and have tried to make all my products look clean and sharp.  But it’s only been in the past few years that I’ve understood the utility of using graphic design to facilitate understanding and decision-making.  Why?  Tyra Baumler’s company, Tessera Design.  http://tesseradesignwi.com/

Time after time, Tyra’s work has been transformative for a written product that I’ve developed.  It’s not just about making it pretty – although Tyra’s work often makes things pretty– it’s about making important information approachable.  There’s no better example that the overnight turnaround on this logic model for Milwaukee County Behavioral Health Division’s sweeping effort to integrate substance abuse and mental health services at all levels into a Comprehensive, Continuous, Integrated System of Care.  I wrote about this process in an earlier post entitled, “Hello.  Can I Come In.” http://jwilberg.com/2010/06/hello-can-i-come-in/

Take a look at how Tyra turned a hum-drum, standard issue, 5-column logic model into an electric and inspiring depiction of the launch of this important integrated services effort.  CCISCModel 9-29

Here’s how it helped people understand and invest in this process:

• It made people proud to be associated with the effort — this included staff and Steering Committee members.
• It sent the message to Steering Committee members that the County was serious about the system transformation.
• It facilitated discussion of key elements of the project – long term goals, long term outcomes, and what needs to get done this year.
• It put the project’s explanation (including the CCISC principles on the backside) on one page that could be used to recruit new stakeholders, educate policymakers, and inform consumers.
• It made the process look real and promising and possible.

It’s not just about graphic design skills — although Tyra’s are truly exceptional.  It’s also about having a keen interest and a deep commitment to using art to invite and explain.  Tyra’s work has that intangible quality, that ability to bridge what sometimes are impossible chasms between people and what they want to achieve.

The agency director said, “We try to teach our people here that the right answer is yes.”  I was so grateful to hear this my eyes teared up.  No joke. I want to put THE RIGHT ANSWER IS YES on T-shirts and coffee mugs.  Maybe make a magnetic sign for my car.  Rent the psychedelic billboard on I-94 West and have the morning exodus wondering “What does that mean?”  “Say yes to what?”

Can you help me?  Will you help me?  Can I be helped?  Am I worth helping?

This is my rookie year in actually trying to help a human being maneuver the human service system.  Yeah, yeah, I have a lot of years of experience talking about systems – analyzing, critiquing, drawing new boxes and arrows on flowcharts.  Until April of this year, I had zero experience trying to get anyone services except the people in my own family, an endeavor made ridiculously simple with health insurance and a credit card.

This is what I’ve learned so far this year:

• A person’s problems can disqualify him/her from getting help even if the problems are the reason he/she needs help.
• Cynicism is a cancer that keeps helpers from helping and the needy from trusting help.
• People who have a life that is a jumble of failures and mishaps won’t suddenly be cured when they walk in the door of a human services agency.
• Agency staff often seem to think  they should parent the adults seeking help.
• People who feel judged and diminished will flee from help.

So when my colleague, Joe Volk, head of Community Advocates, made this statement to me yesterday, it made me really happy.  First of all, it meant I wasn’t just a naive little do-gooder who couldn’t read the scorecard right.  All the barriers and rules and ways to exclude people with messed up lives from getting help really is bullshit.  And, secondly, and more importantly, it doesn’t have to be that way.

Years ago, I was at a conference and some motivational guy uttered these parting words:  “People are hurting.  It doesn’t have to be that way. We need to do something.”  And, of course, I thought, rolling my eyes, “Oh brother.”  But it’s stuck with me all this time.  Because I believe it to be true.  A lot of what I’ve seen these past few months — in my volunteer work and my professional life – has made my eyes cross and my heart ache.

I don’t believe it has to be that way.  A few weeks ago, I talked to some service providers about how they selected people for their programs.  Several providers told me about intake criteria, especially noting those things that would disqualify someone from getting help.  It was clear they’d spent a lot of time carefully constructing these barriers to make sure they got the right kind of customer in their program.  The last guy said, “No, we just take the next person in line, we don’t screen out.  The next person’s in until it looks like it won’t work for him.”  That guy gets a T-shirt and a coffee mug.