If you’ve got a lot of fire power, it’s hard to resist the urge to show it off.  Hence, the Blue Angels and the Thunderbirds and the whole concept of Shock and Awe which I’m kind of ashamed to admit I’ve used in various efforts to try to beat out competition for one thing or another.

But like every other tool, you have to be strategic about when you use it.  As an evaluator, I frequently meet with programs to review progress.  Usually, I meet with the agency director and the program coordinator.  But sometimes, I walk in and there’s a sea of people – from administrators to line staff to the receptionist.  Then I think to myself, why do they think they need all these people here?  I thought about putting a limit on the number of people at an evaluation visit but then, I thought, doesn’t a program’s decision about who needs to be there telling me something important?

Lobbying elected officials or meeting with bureaucratic higher-ups is another area where people often miscalculate the appropriate show of force.  Do you want a roomful of supporters if you’re trying to get a touchy piece of legislation passed?  Of course.  Standing room only.  But do you want a crowd when you’re meeting with an individual elected official about a delicate policy issue?  Different matter.  If each person in your delegation represents an essential and unique expertise, it’s probably ok to bring them along.  But if they are just taking up space or helping you feel more confident or important (it is nice to have an entourage), think again. 

When policymakers see a gaggle of people heading for their office, they put on their public face.  Not their ‘let’s get to know each other’ face or ‘let’s work out this problem’ face.  They glad hand, listen politely and move on.  And then they wonder why you needed a small army to talk to them. 

Advice?  Think about who will add essential value to a meeting; who will make the outcome better.  Make sure you’ve determined who is going to play what role.  Think Blue Angels.  Each one of them knows the plan and sticks with the program.  That, and the fact that they’re maneuvering those amazing planes within inches of each other, makes for a very impressive show of force.

Jan Wilberg Janice Wilberg

I hate this.  I figure if I’m going to offer my time to be on a nonprofit board of directors, not much should go on except profuse thanks and  celebration.  My message to nonprofits that have gone to too many board recruitment workshops – STOP IT!  Drop the”let’s see if you’re good enough for our two-bit organization” approach and go with “I love you now and will love you more every day we’re together.” 

I’ve sat through a couple of these first date hells.  Once I mentioned to the director of a small community center that I would be interested in helping out by serving on their board of directors.  “Oh, great!,” she said.  Then started the vetting.  The application.  The interview. The interview with board members. The queries about my motivation.  What I would offer the organization.  Was I committed enough.  Interested enough.  I was, actually.  I thought it was a dynamite little organization. But, you know what? I was very put off by the process.  I wasn’t applying for a job.  I was there basically to DONATE MY TIME.  Should you kiss my ring for that? Maybe, especially since you need me more than I need you.

I recently joined the board of Spotted Eagle, Inc.  Here’s how they handled me.

• The board chair responded to my email inquiry quickly and enthusiastically.
• The executive director sent me info on the agency and set up a meeting.
• I was welcomed to the meeting by the board chair, executive director, and another board member – who turned out to be someone I’d worked with several years ago.  He was obviously asked to come because the others thought he had some positive pull with me.
• We had a lively, funny, interesting meeting in which they laid out their hopes, dreams, disappointments and worries.
• They made it clear that they had already vetted me — I got clear “google” vibes.
• I felt appreciated and needed.  Now, isn’t that a great way to start a board membership?
• There was no idiotic  application, no interviewing me, no hoops.  It felt respectful and appropriate.  These folks got it — I was willing to volunteer my time and whatever expertise they might find useful. 

How did this make me feel?  Good.  I like the organization, I like the people and what they are trying to do.  I’m happy that they thought I could be useful.  It’s all good.

Next time you go recruiting for board members, understand that you are asking people to donate their time to your organization.  Would you treat a potential financial donor like you are treating prospective board members?  Are you vetting financial donors to make sure they’re worthy of donating to your cause?  Board members are precious.  Show them you love them from the get-go.  You’ll get paid back, many times over. 

Wine and dine works every time.  Trust me, I’m right about this.

Jan Wilberg Janice Wilberg

A couple of weeks ago, he told me that the group was chastised by their supervisor because one of the ‘pants on the ground’ guys had talked to a white woman who worked in the office and scared her.  Turns out he’d said good morning and tried to strike up a conversation.  Nothing nasty.  Just guy – girl chat, or so he thought.

So, my son says, “Are you not supposed to say hello to people because it’ll scare them?”  Of course, right there, I’m thinking that it’s an interesting predicament he’s in — is he in solidarity with his crew or wanting to distance himself?  Is Mr. Theatre getting radicalized?

“They use the N word alot which just makes the white people more nervous.” And does it ever. The N word, the pants on the ground, scary rap lyrics, cool poses make the white people more nervous, for sure.

Pants on the ground – just the latest in a revolving door of reasons to not want to talk to young African American men.  The big pants make them scary?

So everyone tries to fix the ‘pants on the ground’ kids as if their pants signify a much bigger pathology.  My pants, therefore I am? 

I don’t buy it.  We aren’t our pants.

A guy in skinny jeans can be just as messed up as a guy in baggy pants or they both might be graduate students at UW-M.  Who the heck knows unless you talk to them?

Several years ago, I was the planning director for a large organization looking to hire a community organizer to work on Milwaukee’s near southside.  Two individuals who had been active in the agency’s resident councils applied – one from the southside with years of grassroots community experience and the other from the northside  with experience working as a realtor.  After interviewing both, I offered the job to the southside person.

The northside person called me to complain.  We discussed the position.  I explained as best I could – within the constraints of good personnel practice – the reasons why I felt she was not as well suited to the organizing position.   She was unhappy and said that she would file a complaint with the organization’s director.  And she did.  The matter was resolved; the southside person assumed the position and all was done.  Or so I thought.

Several months after I left the organization, I was notified that there was an EEOC complaint against me.  Basically, the northside person alleged that I had discriminated against her on the basis of age by not giving her the job instead of the southside person.  Her word against mine, right?  Nope.  Know why?  She had a friend listening in on our phone conversation – a friend willing to say that I’d made inappropriate statements about the applicant’s age and her ability to ‘fit in’ with a younger staff.

I hired an attorney.  The attorney took depositions and prepared a defense.  I spent a couple of thousand dollars on fighting the accusation because a) I didn’t do it; and b) I didn’t believe the organization would defend me strenuously enough.  And I was right.  The organization settled the complaint, paying out several thousand dollars so as not to expend more money on litigation for a former employee (me).

I couldn’t believe it.  Two people could lie – just make stuff up and get believed.  More than that, two people lied about me — a decent person trying to do good work and make right decisions.  They lied about a person who would never lie about them.  But there I am – in the record books as an age discriminator.  Framed.

I could hear the buzz around town.  “Hey, did you hear?”  Humiliating. Infuriating.  Wrong. 

You know what I learned?  The truth isn’t that big a deal to everyone.  It might be a big deal to you and me but don’t assume everyone feels that way.  For some folks,  what they hear is what will work for them.  And screw people’s reputations.  Not nice, is it?  That’s being framed.

From BowWow to Rocket Dog

A lot of dogs are lap dogs.  A lot of people are lap dogs. Oh wait, that’s a different blog.  Anyway, not all dogs that start as lap dogs want to live their whole lives that way.

It’s just when you have a really big report due that you hear that baby trapped in the wall.  And I don’t mean to be sexist, but let’s be honest, if there’s a baby trapped in the wall, the man of the house will never hear it.  Sorry, but you know it’s true.

Women hear the baby trapped in the wall.  Say yes to bringing cupcakes to school the same day a proposal is due.  Write reports with children on their laps. Pull legos out of their purses looking for a pen.  Worry if their kids aren’t happy every minute of every day.  And they still get it done.  And it’s amazing and I’m happy and blessed to be in the club of women who hear the baby trapped in the wall, get her out, set her down with a graham cracker, her Teddy and a hug, and get back to work.  Happy Mother’s Day!

Oh my.  So I thought I knew how things work.  But there is a real big difference between reading about child welfare issues in the paper and trying to sort things out for just one child.  Things I learned at SDC when it was a down and dirty anti-poverty agency really helped me out this week:

• If you don’t know what you don’t know, you are really in trouble.  However, if you know what you don’t know, you have a prayer.  If you’re in the first position, you make the huge mistake of making assumptions that are wrong, wrong, wrong.  If you’re in the second position, it’s just a matter of asking and listening.
• Assume the best about everybody.  Practically nobody does things intentionally to harm another person.  The world is full of people who make mistakes; people who work really hard but don’t get beautiful outcomes.  It’s not a contradiction that few people are evil but lots of bad things still happen.
• Make it personal.  Keep ‘there, but for fortune, go I’ as a mantra. 

That’s it.  I learned an awful lot this week – too long and complicated a list for here or anywhere else.  I’m heartened and exhausted.  And I’m taking my sorry ass to bed.

So,  tikkun olam became one of my ‘take-aways’ from being Blondie at synagogue.  But how do you fix the world?  Well, I always liked to think that my professional work has a positive impact on the world but that I’m paid pretty well kind of erodes my point tally in the “Book of Life.”  Writing a couple of big checks every year, sure, that helps.  Mentoring younger professionals coming up, ok.  Serving on a couple of nonprofit boards, that’s fine.  Doing work for groups for free, absolutely should count.  But you know what all this stuff is?  It’s safe.

But now, I’m about to venture into new territory.  If not this week, within the very near future, I will get my first case as a CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate).  A CASA is a trained volunteer appointed by a judge to monitor a foster care placement and to advocate for the best interest of the child; the work involves weekly meetings with the foster child(ren), and regular contact with foster parents, birth parents, teachers, and other people involved in the child’s life.  I’ve been told that judges regard CASAs as  people with extremely valuable insight into how a foster child is doing and what he/she needs in the future because the CASA is the only person in the foster child’s life who is looking at all the pieces of the puzzle.

In my mind and what motivated me to pursue this is if a CASA had been monitoring Christopher Thomas, Jr.’s kinship placement with his aunt, he would be alive today.  If the name doesn’t ring a bell, google it and then prepare to have your heart broken.

So after mulling it over and finding a dozen reasons why I shouldn’t become a CASA, I took the 34-hour training course and was sworn in as a CASA by Childen’s Court Judge Yamihiro a couple of weeks ago.  Next step is the case.  I’ll get one case and I’ll have it for a year, minimally, maybe longer.

What’s the big deal?  This is so not me.  I don’t do direct services.  I write about direct services.  I describe people’s problems.  I don’t try to solve them.  You get where I’m going here?  Oh heck, I can talk to anybody and get information.  Give me 5 people in a desert, an easel and some decent markers, and I can run a focus group on jackrabbits.  But be up close and personal with people in serious trouble over a long period of time — oh, this is stranger in a strange land time for Jan. 

I feel prepared.  (Kids Matter, the local CASA coordinating agency, provides great training and support.) And I really feel challenged – to take on what’s not so ’safe’ and comfortable.  To maybe stop talking and start walking, if you get my drift.  Wish me luck.  And think about what you are doing in the tikkun olam department.  Will keep you posted on how it goes.

I learned this from my Dad.  Well, learned probably isn’t accurate.  It’s more like I absorbed it.  My father didn’t do a lot of direct instruction and probably wouldn’t have known a role model if one sat in his lap. 

My dad knew how to pick up and leave.  Now, get this right.  My dad was not a rich man.  He couldn’t always afford to go off half-cocked and several times his family paid the price for his unilteral decisions to sell his business, move to a new town, buy a business, move again.  There were a lot of 29 cent chicken pot pies eaten while he played in dance bands at night or sold Muntz TV’s door to door in Detroit to pay the mortgage and keep his day business operating.

But you know what I respected about him?  He didn’t take a lot of crap from people or situations.  He took some.  He wasn’t some super-sensitive guy who was always getting his nose out of joint or running out the door because his pride was hurt.  He would negotiate, try to change things, come at problems from a new angle.  But if none of that worked, he’d just get to a certain level and, man, that was it.  He was done.  He was on to making a new plan. 

Without even thinking about it, I realized early on that I approached my work life the same way.  And it has brought a value to my work that might be underestimated by many people.  Because I know I am not afraid to walk away from a bad situation, I’m less stressed about staying in one.  As an SDC colleague of mine said when the agency was going through a particularly wicked period, “This isn’t the kind of place you should work if you don’t have options.” 

I have colleagues who just seem to suffer every single day on the job.  “How’s it going,” I ask.  Then the torrent…”they don’t use my skills, I never have any say about my assignments, no one ever listens to me, I’m not appreciated and on and on.”  To which I say, “You’re smart.  You’re competent.  You have options.”  Invariably, I get the arguments back about how they don’t have options, they have families, it’s a bad job market, they’ve got a pension to worry about.  A hundred reasons why they can’t control their own lives.  I feel bad for them - not really. 

Going off half-cocked — important skill to have. It’s not about being flaky or temperamental or egotistical.  It’s about having standards and a sense of one’s own capabilities and contribution.  And knowing what you will and won’t do to make a buck. 

And believing, at the end of the day, you can make a new plan.

Jan Wilberg Janice Wilberg

So boring.  SO BORING.

There are ways to do introductions that a) make them fun; b) break the ice; and c) and most importantly, build the relationship strength of the group.  Focus on the last point for a moment.  If I go to meetings with you for ten years and all I ever hear is that you’re Fred from UWM because you never say much and flee immediately following the meeting, I’m missing a chance to build a relationship with you and UWM that could be of value to both of us.

So what to do?  Start the meeting with disclosure and laughter.  Here are some things that either I’ve done or I’ve seen done by way of juicing up the introduction drill at the beginning of meetings:

• My all time favorite intro/ice breaker is to ask people to tell us their name, affiliation, and one thing about themselves we wouldn’t find on their resume.  This is how I found out a local economic development leader was the San Francisco spelling bee champion and how an incredibly mousy state bureaucrat was a bungee jumper.  I’ve also found people who were studying to be ordained, raise Christmas trees in their off hours, spoke five languages, ran marathons in foreign countries, and a whole bunch of other weird, quirky thing that immediately enriched the interaction of the group.  Why?  Because we right away feel like we know each other better.
• A good friend of mine, Marcia Jante, former Director of UW-Extension in Waukesha, would start each coalition meeting with a completely off the wall question for introductions.  If it was national dairy month, she’d say, “Tell us your name, your organization, and the dairy product that best represents you.”  Huh?  People are totally taken aback by a question like that – which is good because they giggle, chat with their neighbor, the room buzzes.  It’s good energy.  I was Gouda cheese.
• Friday, I was at a meeting where the facilitator asked each person to introduce themselves and describe one relationship that had developed as a result of their membership in the coalition.  This seemed to take forever — but it was truly worth it.  Generated heartfelt comments, made people feel connected and happy.  A good use of time.

What bothers me about  boring introductions is that we are missing opportunities for better relationships, better projects, and more impact.  You know how Facebook, by sharing little snippets of people’s daily lives, makes you feel like you know a lot more people a lot better?  Think of that approach – the widening and deepening of social networks – as a way to create a more dynamic community for your group.

We’re more than where we work.  And when we share that, somehow it makes our work richer, more worthwhile, just better.