It's Good to Be 4

Last Monday, I was pounding away on my laptop while sitting sideways on the couch, feet up. My 4-year-old little guy snuggled in beside me, smooshed between the back cushions of the couch and the side of my ribs. This is his favorite spot from which to watch me work, and he’s no trouble because he just quietly watches me type. It’s like having a warm and cushiony armrest.

After a little while, I noticed that he was breathing deeply. I asked, are you okay, sweetie? He said simply, “I like the smell of you.”

Over the weekend, we’d gone to a wedding and my husband put on his suit. This is a rarity. When he came downstairs, our little guy gasped and said, “Daddy, you look so beautiful!”

From an adult, we would have questioned the propriety of these statements. But, from a 4-year-old they are precious. 4-year-olds don’t think it's odd to comment on the way someone smells (when they’re not wearing cologne, that is) or to describe a man as beautiful (unless you’re a boy-crazy teenager), but most adults would re-word these thoughts before uttering them. Why is that? Children say exactly what they are thinking without censoring themselves with political correctness and social norms. They have endless confidence because they haven’t yet learned to try to shield themselves from failure. Everything in their world is experimental and learning-oriented, and failure is just a natural part of it. Certainly, we all need to learn to edit our inner monologues, letting out only what improves relationships and situations. This is part of being an adult. But, maybe, we edit too much. Maybe, we edit out the creativity and the impetus for change.

When was the last time you shared a still-fuzzy, crazy idea and just “talked it out” right on the spot? Do you jump in and contribute or mentally wordsmith until an opportunity to contribute has passed? How often do you ask a question or offer an opinion in a meeting even though you worry it might sound dumb or be unpopular? Do you dig deep and find the real truth when it is needed to prompt positive change? Are you willing to mix it up with people so that ideas are fully explored? Are you willing to tell your own personal stories for the benefit of others, even though disclosure makes you feel vulnerable? Do you address difficult issues even though it may alter the perceptions others have about you?

When I hit a certain age, a voice inside my head said, “Who cares what others think? You know your stuff, so stick to your guns! If niceness and positive spin obscure the goals, don't be nice! And, while you’re at it, take some responsibility for helping others to do the same.” Another friend describes it as no longer “suffering fools.”

So, I fired a few of my inner censors. And, yes, way too often I feel as if I’m sticking my neck out alone. But, if someone doesn’t demonstrate that being genuine, taking some risks, and respectfully disagreeing with others can be done without resultant catastrophe, how will anyone else ever feel safe enough to try? And how will we ever make changes if we’re too scared to discuss the real issues? Or dream up the breakthrough ideas if we are too afraid of failure? Or help others if we are too scared to look our own personal truth in the eye?

Take a chance. Rediscover you inner 4-year old amidst your grown-up insight and experience. Maybe by taking a step back toward childhood we can step that much closer to creativity and positive change.

I'm Obviously No Girl Scout

I was never a Girl Scout and I wasn’t quite certain that it would be right for my two young daughters, but my husband talked me into letting our girls join Daisy Scouts this year because of his fond memories of boy scouting when he was a child. After reading the literature, it seemed that there could be little harm in allowing our daughters to join such a well-established organization with professed values (Girl Scout promise and law).

We have nothing but praise for the particular troops to which our daughters belong and their dedicated and responsible troop leaders. But, recently, my husband attended a father-daughter dance with our girls and I attended World Friendship Day with them, which are events that pull together a number of troops at various scouting levels throughout the area. I now wonder if exposure to the Girl Scouts, after seeing it beyond the two troops to which our girls belong, will teach our daughters values completely contrary to the organization’s professed values.

My husband said that, when he arrived at the father-daughter dance with our two young daughters, there were some tables near the door, presumably staffed by senior scouts, where attendees were to check in and be directed to their tables. He was appalled by the older Girl Scouts’ lack of knowledge, discourteousness, and unhelpfulness. We passed this off as an anomaly.

Then, I attended World Friendship Day with my daughters. I can no longer think that the first signs of trouble that my husband noticed at the father-daughter dance are an anomaly. I found little information on “World Friendship Day” when I tried to look it up online. However, I assume it is somehow connected with “World Thinking Day” as described on the girlscouts.org site, which is purposed to work together to end extreme poverty and hunger, celebrate international friendships, and remind U.S. Girl Scouts that they are part of a global community.

I saw attempts to achieve these purposes—or, at least, not to hinder them—in some of the programs for World Friendship Day. However, the parts that did seem consistent with the purposes were overshadowed by everything ranging from a simple laziness and lack of effort to understand or share even a single relevant bit of information about the culture represented to blatant mockeries of other cultures.

Not bothering to find even a single relevant detail about another culture, taking a “close enough” attitude that confuses two different cultures, or mocking other cultures—and then going onstage to parade this lack of regard—don’t say “world friendship” to me. For example:

• Is it possible that the best way to build community with those of Egyptian heritage is acting out the song “Walk Like an Egyptian,” including Halloween-style mummies playing guitar? It’s a catchy song and the skit was mildly amusing, but if Girl Scouts from Cairo had been in the audience, would they have felt included and proud, or would they have felt that we don’t care enough about them to do any work at all to understand their culture? We must make an effort.
  
  
• Did it celebrate friendship with the people of Tonga to represent their culture by dancing to a song that repeated the word “Hawaii” throughout the lyrics so that there was no denying it had nothing to do with Tonga? Sure, it was beautifully staged, but how would troops of Girl Scouts from Tonga and Hawaii have felt if they were in the audience and realized that their separate, unique cultures were indistinguishable to their U.S. counterparts? I’m certain there was no intent to be disrespectful, but choice of this song was careless. We must be mindful.
  
  
• Can we connect with our friends in Greece by watching a performance in which girls dressed as various Greek gods pushed and insulted each other onstage in mockery of a central part of Greek heritage (i.e., its mythology) and, not to mention, the history of civilization? We must be respectful.
  
  
• How does a bunch of teenagers throwing flour at each other to the tune of “That’s Amore” and trashing the stage, and then a girl dressed as a caricature of an Italian man saying with an exaggerated accent, “Whats-a goin’ on-a here?” show respect for Italians, each other, and school property? An adult (troop leader?) prefaced the performance by announcing that she took no accountability for it. We must be accountable.

I understand that young girls finding their way on the path toward developing good judgment may err on the side of irreverence, may try to skirt responsibility or slack off, may get so caught up in the moment that they lose focus, or may not have enough life experience to have more than a parochial and egocentric view of the world. But, I do not understand how so many adults could rationalize such performances under the umbrella of world friendship, nor do I understand the role of a troop leader if not to guide the girls to express their creativity in ways consistent with the Girl Scout law. I am certain that no one operated with ill intent; but I am very, very disappointed that so many people did not stop to consider the impact of their decisions, words, and actions on the formation of values of the little girls looking up to them.

Fortunately, there were some presentations that were very good (e.g., a wonderfully informative video on Korea in which each troop member had an equal part; an authentic dance from India that clearly showed considerable effort and cultural interest on the part of the troop) and others that were largely innocuous, having at least a small bit of relevance mixed in with what I'm sure were well-intentioned (albeit, sometimes questionable) attempts at fun and humor. It is these upon which I focused with my daughters as I tried to un-teach the disrespectful lessons taught by the other presentations. I also tried to explain the confusing truth that just because a number of adults (like troop leaders) and supposed role models (like the senior scouts) visibly represent an organization, quite a few of them may not understand or demonstrate that organization’s values.

Because teaching our children to appreciate diversity and be inclusive is a priority for my husband and me, I will have to seriously consider whether or not my girls will participate in such an event in the future. I will also have to consider the ethics of supporting an organization like the Girl Scouts that permits such lax interpretations of its professed values to be paraded in front of impressionable 5- and 6-year olds at their first cooperative Girl Scout events; a tougher choice since I think my daughters’ particular troop leaders do, in fact, set the right example.

I shared my opinions and concerns with the regional Girl Scout office in the hope that some action will be taken to ensure that future events and activities of the Girl Scouts in my area are, in fact, consistent with the values professed by the Girl Scout organization. I'm sharing it with you, here, to respectfully ask that if you are involved with Girl Scouts or other organizations where parents like me trust others to reinforce the values we attempt to teach our children at home, that you try to be mindful of the message you send through your decisions, words, and actions. Let's set the bar higher.

My hope was that my daughters would grow through their involvement with scouting. I’d like to think that’s still possible.

Update:

I received a very prompt and courteous email from the CEO of the regional office of the Girl Scouts. The tone and content were perfect: sincerely apologetic and focused on taking corrective action. The names of those taking accountability for developing corrective measures were listed. The CEO promised that I will be made aware of these proposed measures.

As long as they do what they say, I can't ask for more.

Update to the update:

As I feared, there was no follow through or follow up. Apparently, Girl Scouts is a lot of fine words with little underlying substance. I hope the interest that my girls have in it burns out quickly. I, for one, have wasted enough time with it.

Technorati tags: diversity, inclusion, Girl Scouts, World Friendship Day

Captain Obvious Rides Again

At the risk of being who my dear friend and colleague, Device Guy (Twitter ID = @DeviceGuy; follow him, he’s a genius), calls “Captain Obvious,” I just had to share this “aha!” moment with you.

I was catching up on one of my favorite blogs, Paul Smith’s Welcome to the Occupation. (It’s an HR blog, but I like it anyway ;-) ) In one of Paul’s posts, he linked to a video by workshop facilitator Joe Gerstandt entitled, Fresh Definition for Diversity. I’ve spent the past year or so learning a lot about diversity and inclusion. I thought I had developed a grasp of the fundamental definitions of these words. However, a significant learning for me came as a result of the particular way Joe Gerstandt phrased his definition. I’m sure I heard a similar definition before, but it just didn’t register in the same way for me as it did when I watched the video.

Joe Gerstandt simply says that "diversity means difference." Check. I knew that. But, then he talks about it as "a relational attribute.” Relational. My mental model for "differences" was more focused on the uniqueness of individuals — sets of qualities unique to each person (Joe Gerstandt might say I was muddling "diversity" with "talent") — rather than the simple distance between two points — the relational difference.

Relational differences are momentary, transient, and only real for those directly involved. They require the participation of two entities to exist. Aha!

This sheds a new light on the whole insider/outsider concept for me. Viewing differences as relational between any two individuals on a point-in-time basis, instead of relational between each individual and the norms of the insider group on a more enduring basis, puts the hierarchy off balance and renders it irrelevant. In my new mental model, all of us and none of us are insiders and outsiders. The differences only mean something important to each of us individually, helping us to make sense of our world through mental models, judgments, comparisons, decisions. Yet, in the overall universe they are equally weighted because they are shifting, transient, without benchmarks — in a sense, unreal.

When I say "unreal," I mean it in the sense that we can't rely on differences as absolutes or truths upon which we can build our value and reward systems (although, that's exactly what we've done, with the result that we have hierarchies largely based on privilege rather than merit). But, that isn't to say that differences are without value. Differences are the basis of potential energy, which can be transformed into kinetic energy to accomplish work, if only we can overcome inertia. Herein lies the power of inclusion. Think of how much we can accomplish if we harness the power of all of that potential energy existing between each uniquely talented individual and the uniquely talented individual beside him/her.

That’s the whole point, isn’t it? (“Aha!” or “Duh!” — never quite sure.)



Technorati tags: diversity, inclusion, Paul Smith, Joe Gerstandt

10 Things I Really Like About You

After publishing my previous post, using the unapologetic and somewhat tongue-in-cheek idea of calling out behavioral pet peeves started by Mother Shaffer, one of my readers told me the post scared her. This wasn’t my intent, so I decided to reframe the main points in a more positive way.

10 Things I Really Like About You

1. You have integrity. I know your values because they’re apparent in all you do. You live your values even when it is uncomfortable for you or means that you must change. You are slow to criticize and quick to support. You appreciate that people are complex, so you consider me in light of my overall character rather than out-of-context shortcomings. You base your evaluations on sensible and visible standards, not subjective preference. I can trust you because you are genuine.
2. You are inclusive. You recognize that I am very different than you are, and what goes on in my head and my life is unique to me. You view these differences as prompts to expand your own perspective. You seek to understand and engage. You know that what we can build together is stronger than what we can do alone.
3. You truly appreciate me. You never underestimate the value of what I do and evaluate me fairly based on our mutually understood requirements. Even though we may be at very different levels, you recognize that we are all connected and that my contribution to the overall outcome may be every bit as important—maybe more important—than yours, at times. You are quite comfortable giving me due credit—even all the credit, if warranted—because you know it’s a positive reflection on you to enlist and recognize resources that get the job done. You believe that sharing credit doesn’t diminish it, it expands it.
4. You are confident. You don’t need my acceptance to know and be happy with who you are. You expect my intentions to be good so you don’t seek reasons to take offense or read anything extra into what I say or do. You seek to earn my respect, but are A-OK with not being the center of my universe.
5. You have a clue. You understand that rewards should be earned. You expect no gifts and demand no sympathy. You do not shirk hard work or responsibility. You know that life isn’t fair. You work to create a better future, but operate within the current reality.
6. You cooperate. You are energized by achievement and collaboration. Competing only diverts your energy from pursuing your goals, so you don't engage in it. You’re happy when others honestly and deservedly succeed because it raises the bar of excellence and inspires you.
7. Your memory is good. You remember your promises, values, and what you’ve said to me even when the pressure's on. You remember that every decision has ripple effects that may affect others, so you make decisions based on data and reason rather than favors and convenience. You remember who embraces values and policies to contribute in positive ways when determining rewards. You remember that I will never forget.
8. You consider other points of view. You are open to alternatives that are well-reasoned and have quantified evidence. You consider no idea of your own to be infallible or the sole possibility. You encourage others to test their wings and support them throughout.
9. You assume the best. You don’t jump to conclusions. You always give people the benefit of the doubt until proven otherwise. You say and do only things that enhance relationships. You don’t attack, you positively engage.
10. You can write. When writing—when you can see the words and take the time to correct them —you always pay attention. You may not catch every misplaced comma or dangling participle, but you certainly commit no war crimes against language. You may even follow Grammar Girl.

10 Things That Bug Me About You

I am being completely unoriginal, but after reading 10 Things I Strongly Dislike About You by Kat, who was inspired by Mother Shaffer’s 10 Things I Hate About You, I just had to make my own list.

I should note that I personally have violated various points on this list at some time, because one thing that doesn’t bug me about you is that you are not perfect…nor am I. Let’s just try to do better, okay?

10 Things That Bug Me About You

1. You are a hypocrite. Don’t tell me you put people first if you overlook all kinds of injustice that you are in a position to stop because it might be uncomfortable or that you might have to change. Or criticize me for destroying the environment for our children by not embracing organic gardening while you’re smoking and drinking in your first trimester. Or look down on me for being overweight when you are the one who is frighteningly food-obsessed. Face up to who you are, blemishes and all. I’ll like you better.
   
2. You are a bigot. Don’t penalize or look down on me or anyone else because we don’t fit your ideal image—you know, the one that looks, thinks, and acts just like you. You have no idea what goes on in my head or life, and you can’t judge it against the standards you set in yours.
   
3. You are a thief. Don’t steal my work and ideas, present them as your own, reap the rewards, and give me no credit. If I’m willing to share the credit with you even if your contribution was—ahem—minor, then why won’t you? Sharing the credit doesn’t diminish it, it expands it. Take my “share the credit” deal; it’s a generous one—more than a thief like you deserves.
   
4. You are a victim. You’ve got a right to gripe when bad stuff happens. It’s only human. But don’t take everything I say or do—or anyone else says or does—and often things we haven’t said or done—or even considered saying or doing—as a personal affront all of the time. Frankly, I am way too stretched to expend extra effort inventing clever and covert ways to hurt you. I don’t give that much thought to anything about you because I’m just not that generous. Seriously, you are not the center of my universe. Get over it.
   
5. You are deluded. I’m not talking about the kind of blind optimism that helps you through a tough situation. I’m talking about thinking that having a freshly-minted degree and no experience should rocket you directly into an executive position. Or believing that doing one small task that a big cheese compliments makes up for the rest of time that you did nothing and dragged down the team. Or saying that you’ve earned your place/success/reward when your parents/spouse/family bought your way into all you have. But, your private delusions aren’t what actually bug me. What bugs me is that you repeat your delusional mantra to me in your never-ending bid for sympathy over the world’s alleged cruelty to you. Riiiiight. Poor you.
   
6. You insist on competing. Not to be arrogant, but my true strengths are pretty serious strengths, so competing with me in those areas is probably pointless. If you insist on competing with me, go right ahead, but you’ll be operating alone. If you try to bait me by persistently throwing it in my face, you will only annoy me, like an irritating fly. And beating me won’t work either. If you beat me fairly, I’ll simply give you due credit. I don’t feel diminished when someone else honestly and deservedly succeeds—I’m happy for them. (However, I get angry when an incompetent who personifies this list is unjustly rewarded. Even so, it takes me a while to get there…I always first assume that the incompetent must have overriding superior qualities of which I am unaware, until they undeniably prove me wrong.) The only person with whom I ever compete is me. I think competition is counterproductive. Isn’t it better to work together?
   
7. You have selective memory. You don’t remember that you privately told me one thing and then took a completely opposite stance publicly? You swear that you only consider facts when making decisions when I’ve seen you repeatedly discard them for the sake of convenience or to advance you own agenda? You think no one noticed that you gave your thoroughly mediocre buddy a plummy opportunity even though someone else had earned it? You can’t remember that someone made egregious errors in judgment and showed blatant disregard for policy and values while you continue to reward them? You don’t remember committing to my project when someone who can get you ahead wants something? Well, maybe you don’t remember. But, then, I can’t remember to respect you.
   
8. You are closed to other points of view. Confidence is great. I can even accept arrogance if you have considerable talents to back it up. What I won’t accept are people who discard piles of quantified evidence and well-reasoned concepts—and rip apart anyone who had the guts to present them—in favor of their own (they think) infallible idea. You know who I mean—insufferable know-it-alls and little-people-with-big-egos who aren’t content until they’ve destroyed countless worthy efforts and people through sheer pigheadedness. I might be wrong sometimes. Everyone around you might be wrong sometimes. But that doesn’t mean you’re always right or that an idea that’s not yours won’t work just as well. Maybe you should open your ears and mind a bit. Or just get lost because there’s no point in talking with you, anyway.
   
9. You fight evil, except inside yourself. My best example: A woman—think, “Church Lady”—stormed up to me in a parking lot and accused me of abusing my (then) 2-year old, who was in the throes of a 20-minute public temper tantrum. My most calming attempts to diffuse his tantrum had failed miserably, and I was struggling to catch each of his limbs with one hand and put them through the straps of his car seat, while holding my other arm across the seat like a roller coaster safety bar to prevent his escape into oncoming traffic (which he’d already done once, after biting my arm and giving me a throbbing, bleeding bruise the size of LA). Church Lady hurled accusations, including that “no child” would behave like that unless I’d “done something” to him, and that my own parents were incompetent. (My son was two. We’ve all heard of the terrible twos, right?) Despite the fact that I’d done nothing to merit attack, her venom made me sob in frustration all the way home. Not long before, a news story about a woman beating a child in a car seat had aired…was Church Lady projecting? My advice: If you seek evil, you’ll find it, but it may be of your own making. Clean up your act before cleaning up mine.
   
10. Your writing skills are atrocious. I am far from perfect, and I don’t expect perfection from you. My speech is littered with grammatical errors because it’s hard to correct one’s self in the moment and without visual prompts. But when writing—when you can see the words and take the time to correct them—pay attention. Again, I’m not expecting perfection—my writing is riddled with misplaced commas and modifiers. I even have adopted the web writing style in which “sentences” start with conjunctions and verbs are omitted to emphasize the point. What I’m talking about are war crimes against language. Being able to communicate is essential. Please, get some help. I recommend consulting Grammar Girl.

Why not make a list of your own? It's cathartic.

Technorati tags: Grammar Girl, Kat's Eye on Life, Mother Shaffer

Strike "optimist" from my bio, for now

Should I scream, throw something, or burst into tears? Or some combination of the three? It would be nice to be my 3-year-old, who can have a tantrum within the realm of “normal” behavior. For an adult, tantrums are unacceptable. As my kids would say, “Unfair!”

I just heard some shockingly bad news from a close friend. It was quite unexpected. And, it adds to the devastating theme that has been running through my circle of loved ones for several unrelenting years now. All I can say is, “I EFFING HATE CANCER!” (And all of the effing side effects of it and its treatments.)

I don’t want to hear about maintaining a positive attitude. Or how optimism improves health. Getting cancer and fighting cancer have nothing whatsoever to do with whether or not you are sufficiently upbeat. Maybe optimism helps someone mentally face all the hell of the battle, but that’s it. Saying optimism is the key to better health is blaming the victim. “If he were just a more positive person, those rogue cells would have disappeared!” It’s magical thinking and it’s rubbish. Happy people die of cancer every day. And sad ones live. And vice versa.

It also can have nothing to do with life choices. We all grew up learning how a healthy lifestyle reduces the risks of some types of cancers. Certainly, no one can argue the benefits of healthy choices. But assuming that a cancer patient should eat more sprouts, lose weight (overweight patients tolerate certain treatments better!), take supplements (some may interfere with treatments!), exercise more, or even stop smoking—or suggesting that if they had done these things before getting cancer they’d still be healthy—is also blaming the victim. Failing to eat 3 daily helpings of leafy greens won’t stop the chemo from working, nor will eating them help the chemo to work better in any significant way. When a body is being blasted with chemicals or radiation, taking a multivitamin is just not a key event on the critical path to renewed health (nor is it an adequate substitute for proper medical treatment). And as for choices made before cancer—many types of cancer have no known cause. For many types of the worst types, there is no link to environment, diet, habits, weight, overall fitness, lifestyle, or even genetics. It just freakin’ happens. Ask an oncologist.

And then there’s all the collateral damage. Career. Economic security. Family life. Social life. Life itself. The cancer patient suffers. The family suffers. The friends suffer. Everyone tries to put on brave faces as their insides and their worlds shatter. They try to make it right by talking about the life lessons this challenge has taught them, how they are better and wiser people. But, in reality, we’d all much rather be oblivious, hedonistic idiots who have not been anywhere near cancer than wise and virtuous heroes battling through it.

Sure, people are just trying to help as they offer advice or speculate on courses of action. Or they’re trying to make sense of the insanity. Or they’re just bumblers with good intentions. I’ve bumbled myself, even after what I’ve learned over the past few years. But I just don’t want to deal with that stuff right now. I don’t want to continue to be an adult and face more bad news with poise and courage.

Instead, I just want to flippin’ scream. And throw something. And cry. And hope that I’ll never have cause to feel this way again.

I'm a Millionaire

Want to hear something crazy? I love CHANGE. In fact, I’m thankful for it.

Of course, I am most thankful for my family, health, faith, and the tremendous gift of being born into a part of the world in which access to food, shelter, healthcare, gainful employment, opportunity, creature comforts, and freedom are so common that I often forget that there are others who would be happy to have just one of those blessings for even one moment.

But as I reflect on what—beyond the obvious—is something I am grateful to have in my world, I keep coming back to change.

A classic film called The Shop Around the Corner, starring Jimmy Stewart (as Alfred Kralik), contains one of my all-time-favorite movie quotes:

Kralik: Pirovitch, did you ever get a bonus?

Pirovitch: Yes, once.

Kralik: Yeah. The boss hands you the envelope. You wonder how much is in it, and you don't want to open it. As long as the envelope's closed, you're a millionaire.

That’s change for me—being on the verge of possibility. It’s why we are all moved by weddings, births, new jobs or projects, commencements, elections, the start of a school or fiscal year, and other first moments and beginnings—they are all so ripe with fresh hope and promise. Anything, ANYTHING, could happen if we just can figure out how to seize the opportunity.

As we move into the busy holiday season and 2009 draws to a close, there’s change in the wind once more. Although I appreciate and respect what and who have brought me to this point, I look forward to what comes next: new projects, new ideas, new chances, and a new year. It is thrilling to open that envelope. I do it with confidence because, with all the blessings in my life, I already am “a millionaire.”

Happy Thanksgiving!

(If you are thankful for something, too, why not join in the global celebration of TweetsGiving? Thanks to Jay Baer and his his post on TweetsGiving for bringing it to my attention.)


Technorati tags: Thanksgiving, change, The Shop Around the Corner, Jimmy Stewart, Jay Baer, TweetsGiving