Ham Up!

Ask not what you can do for your country. 

Ask what’s for lunch. 

 – Orson Welles

If you are an up and comer, a bright little nova about to burst in the sky, one of next year’s Forty Under Forty, then you’re making a big mistake if you work through lunch.  Oh, I hear you.  You have tons of work to do.  You like working through lunch because everyone else in the office is gone and it’s really nice and quiet.  You don’t want a reputation for taking long lunch hours.

Yes, I hear you, but you’ve got this one wrong. 

When I worked for Milwaukee County as their first Grants Coordinator, I’d just come from an agency where lunch was an art form.  However, in the County Courthouse, lunch meant going down the elevator to the Homicide: Life on the Streets cafeteria, eating a tuna sandwich and hotfooting upstairs before your minutes were up.  So when I headed for the elevator and got off on the 1st Floor to walk outside into the sunshine and the vast array of eateries around 9th and Wells, people piped up real quick, “Where are you going?”

Well, I’m going to lunch.  Why was I going to lunch?

Because I needed to make connections in order to get some big grants going and the place that connections could get made was LUNCH.

Yes, I could have had meetings with the same people.  But a meeting isn’t like lunch.  A meeting is about the agenda, getting things done, leaving with assignments, and feeling super efficient.  Lunch is about having a relationship with someone that is bigger than a single project, a connection that is more enduring, more intimate, and more fruitful over the long term. It’s talking about your kids, it’s knowing that someone actually has kids, it’s sharing information about new developments, it’s cracking a joke and having a decent laugh, it’s building a business friendship for the long haul.  Valuable stuff.

Like many of you, I tend to work through lunch (and I actually had a tuna sandwich today) but I know about the value of lunch and intend to recommit myself to this essential business practice.  So – get on the phone and make a date for lunch!  And I’ll do the same.

And, oh, kudos to the County’s old dungeon of a cafeteria – because it used to open at 5:00 a.m. which let folks like me who’d spent their working hours at lunch come in early to get their work done.

I Love This….I Mean I Really Love This

There are a bunch of stories in this terrific article about Milwaukee’s Drug Treatment Court.  There’s the story of Judge Joe Donald’s leadership.  And there’s the story of teamwork.  And the one about forging ahead without knowing all the answers.  And the best one — the one that I love — there’s the story about how having faith in people and giving them a chance to get straight pays off in concrete ways. 

Judge Donald is so right — putting addicts in prison for the incredibly long sentences that have become so popular these past few years just pumps up the Corrections budget, cracks up families, and makes nothing better.

This Drug Treatment Court?  It makes things better by giving people the tools, the structure, and the helping hand.  I don’t think going through Drug Treatment is particularly easy.  There is a huge amount of accountability, treatment compliance, and other expectations built into the program.  When a person graduates from the Drug Treatment Court, he/she has accomplished something of great significance.

This article has had me beaming all day — love it when government looks sharp and does right.  I’m also secretly (well, maybe not so secretly now that it’s on my blog) proud to have played a wee role in the Drug Treatment Court’s financial security by working on the federal grant that supports its current operation.  What a great idea, what smart people, what teamwork, what a professional pleasure to have been involved – if only in a small way.

So go buy the May issue of Milwaukee Magazine when it’s available in stores (I tried to post a link but no luck for now).  Maybe you can use your copy to wave in the face of the folks you meet who think that government can’t do anything right. 

Look Smart Be Smart

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.

What I Wish BHD Had Done

I’m a consultant.  So a lot of what I do and say comes from the comfort of the sidelines.  I watch things.  I analyze.  I suggest.  But I’m rarely in the line of fire.

The past several months I’ve watched a friend (and a client by the way) stand squarely in the line of fire.  I’m talking about John Chianelli, until yesterday, the administrator of Milwaukee County’s Behavioral Health Division.  I’ve worked with John for many years - in the Continuum of Care (Milwaukee’s homeless coalition, on the reform of GAMP (General Assistance Medical Program – now known as BadgerCare Core), and in facilitating strategic planning sessions for the leadership team at BHD and assisting in the effort to integrate the AODA and mental health treatment systems into a more coherent, welcoming system for everyone.

I’m proud of the work I’ve done and proud of my association with John Chianelli.  He’s a gifted public administrator – talented, committed, energetic.  This recent situation is a tragedy all round.

Anyway, despite my great respect for John and the work BHD has done to reform itself, I am really troubled by how they’ve handled this crisis.  They stonewalled.  Something very bad happened on their watch and they battoned down the hatches and went mum. 

BHD runs a public psychiatric hospital.  This is a challenging job with a lot of potential for error – especially when resources are scarce.  It’s not as if the public might not understand that a mistake happened.  Mistakes happen in this hard world.  But maybe on the advice of lawyers, maybe on their own counsel, BHD slammed the door shut.  No one called a press conference.  No one came out with the facts of the story.  No one said they were sorry.

This last element is the sticking point for me.  When little Christopher Thomas was killed at the hands of his kinship caretaker, the Bureau of Milwaukee Child Welfare dummied up, looked at us (the public) stonefaced as if they had nothing to explain and nothing to apologize for.  I’m not afraid to admit it – Christopher Thomas’ death made me weep.  It also moved me to become a CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate) to stick up for a kid in foster care.  But back to BHD.

What I wanted to hear from Milwaukee County was an apology along with an acknowledgement that something went terribly wrong and needed to be fixed. 

BP figured this out too late — taking the advice of their lawyers until the entire world condemned their rotten behavior in the Gulf before and after the spill.  Same with Toyota.  Stonewall.  Denial.  Silence.  And then the avalanche of criticism and hatred.  The New York Times’ recent article, “In Case of Emergency:  What Not to Do,” lays it all out.  When there’s a catastrophe, disclose it immediately.  Come clean.  Be clear on what will be done to avoid a recurrence.  Own up.

http://dealbook.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/08/23/in-case-of-emergency-what-not-to-do/

It’s not just strategy — gee, if BHD had done the Tylenol thing, it would all be ok — it’s also about public accountability and transparency.  And being and feeling sorry when something bad happens.  And meaning it.  I wish BHD administrators had done that — so they could enlist the public in their efforts to reform the mental health system instead of fueling the years’ old fires of suspicion and conflict.  Sad thing.  But bigger sad than just a couple of people — sad for all of us as a town.