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.

This guy knows his customer.  Don’t you think?  He knows that there is that one person in a million passersby who will stop at his funky weird, somewhat scary shop on Hwy 2 in the UP.  And he’s betting that birdbrain will have an empty egg carton in his car and offer to buy a dozen and that the guffaw will be heard all the way to the Soo.

Or maybe he really does sell eggs. We don’t really know.  What we do know is that the place sends out a freaky vibe that makes everyone want to stop to take pictures but not go inside.  The place radiates the feeling that the joke’s on you if you take this seriously.

I’m intrigued by the mixed messages.  Interested?  Come on in!  But bring your own egg carton.  And don’t be scared or worried.  It might look strange and off-putting but it’s really cozy and comfy inside. Sure.  I’m not taking that chance.

Sound like any place you know?

There are things I’ve done to facilitate group discussions that, in retrospect, make me roll my eyes and yearn for witness protection.  Even more astonishing than the cockamamie things I asked people to do is the fact that 99.9% of the time, people would do them!

Without flinching,

• The head of UMOS agreed to write a ‘pressing community need’ on a balloon and tack it to the wall to be popped later by the expert facilitator as we established need priorities.
• Waukesha County’s budget director along with his key staff wrote their ‘most important outcomes’ on paper airplanes and sailed them at me and my co-facilitator in a flurry which had us scrambling around the floor trying to pick them up and read them.  (We planned pre-flight but not post-flight.)
• A police chief used crayons to draw his favorite summertime memory as a boy which had him on his bike in the hills overlooking his town and then label the picture “Lucky.”  (This was actually one that worked pretty well – helping a new Youth Collaborative harken back to the golden days of freedom and playfullness of their youth.  Unfortunately, they then went on to plan more structured activities for kids.  Oh well.)
• Emergency shelter directors constructed their ‘visions’ of how the Shelter Task Force should operate using (what else?) Tinkertoys.  (Didn’t work – they all looked like spaceships.)

In addition to this kind of stuff, I went through a period of taking little jars of Play-Doh to every meeting.  I probably have more Play-Doh in my office right this second that Milwaukee’s biggest day care — because, you know or maybe you don’t, that you really can’t use Play-Doh twice.  Has to be new.

Anyway, participants in a planning meeting will generally do whatever the facilitator asks them to do if the facilitator conveys a genuine commitment to the process and a real enthusiasm for the results.  If the facilitator equivocates, then people will hang back.  I witnessed someone at a large gathering not so long ago open the meeting by promising a great icebreaker and then, surprisingly, losing his nerve at the last minute.  If you’re going to do something different, you have to plunge in like you believe it. 

Now I pretty much stick with the simple and striking.  Like this ball.  This is possibly the most enticing ball on the planet.  So I use it to do introductions or I’ll just have it sitting on the table available for people to  pick up and fiddle with.  People like it that I thought to bring some toys; most people will get into it.  It helps them play while being serious.  Takes the edge off.  Gives them something to laugh about.  Makes the room warmer and happier. 

Sometimes, though, people gather to plan or discuss or strategize and they are just too up tight to pick up that ball.  The ball will sit there the entire session.  Like it was made of crystal.  Everyone is afraid of the ball, ignores it, looks at their hands.  When that happens, witness protection is looking better and better.

Milwaukee Brighter Futures is a state-funded prevention program managed by Community Advocates.  The performance of the 2009 crop of Brighter Futures programs is summed up in this Year End Report.  BF 2009 Year End Report  Milwaukee Brighter Futures programs reached 14,910 children, youth and families in 2009, providing critically needed prevention education and intervention services.  Each Brighter Futures project is profiled in detail: demographics, participation frequency, leveraging, outputs, and outcomes.

Especially helpful for people interested in program design and evaluation are projects’ self-reflections, the section in each profile which includes the project operator’s own assessment of implementation challenges and successes.  This practice of asking projects to honestly evaluate their own progress has given Brighter Futures management the critical information needed to improve prevention planning and service delivery.  This kind of sharing – of the good and the not so good – is what sets Brighter Futures apart and keeps it real.  Worth a quick read!

More information about Milwaukee Brighter Futures is available at www.milwaukeebrighterfutures.org.

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

Yippee!!  You’ve got a live one.  Someone who actually wants to be on your board of directors.  What’s next?  Wining and dining?  Flowers?  Nope.  If you’re like many nonprofits, you’re going to spoil the mood with an application and an interview, maybe a couple of each, with references.

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

My son is trying to get some traction in his life/work/career.  He’s 23, Nicaraguan, and wants to be an actor.  He’s also kind of short which hasn’t helped his acting life but that’s beside the point.  Right now he’s working on a landscaping crew with 8 or 9 other guys, all African-American, most of whom come to work with their pants on the ground, just like in the song.  After a couple of days of being the only Hispanic guy, my son fell in with these guys as work friends.

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?

Ever been framed?  I don’t mean framed as in having a nice portrait done. I mean framed as in being falsely accused of an offense.  I have.  And it’s not a nice experience. Here’s what happened. 

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.