Time To Talk

The longer I left it, the more difficult it became.

I’ve not been feeling well lately. When I say lately, I mean months and months, maybe even a year or two…I’m not entirely sure. What I do know is that I’ve been carrying this unwellness around in my head, keeping it from my family. Wanting to talk, and never knowing what to say.

I’ve played conversations out in my head over and over again. They nearly always seem to end badly and I take that as a sign that silence is probably the better option. I choose to isolate and withdraw, most notably from those closest to me. Over time, I slowly become aware of three things. A lack of self care, a lack of motivation, and a surfeit of anger, most of which I internalise. It’s fair to say these things are not constant, and there are better things in the mix too, however this unwelcome trio are occupying too much space.

What might it take for things to shift?

Last week, I stumbled on this photographic tweet from Holly Davis, the poem is by Rupi Kaur.

This idea has always resonated with me and my work. One of the biggest causes of friction and failure when it comes to change and organisational development, is our reluctance to take responsibility. It’s easier to apportion blame than take responsibility, yet apportioning blame often anchors you in the past, while taking responsibility can create space to rebuild and move on.

I realise I am responsible for internalising how I feel, and while I do not and should not feel a need to pass on everything that’s flying around inside my head, acknowledging and taking responsibility to speak is vital.

Sunday morning after breakfast, it all comes out. What ‘it’ is need not concern you, but what’s important is that in speaking, listening can occur, shared space can be found, and empathy and understanding is generated. Thank you Carole, I’ll not leave it so long next time.

 

Cutting The Fringe

For the last four years, it’s been a pleasure and a privilege to work with excellent people, developing and delivering a range of creative fringe events at the annual CIPD conference. Up until a few weeks ago – we were getting ready to make it five years in a row.

Sadly, that’s no longer the case. The dates were booked, discussions were ongoing about the specifics of what we might deliver this year. A query then arrived asking if we would further discount our already heavily reduced fees. That was followed by a brief silence, then this:

We had extensive internal conversations over the past couple of weeks and I am sorry to let you know that, because of all the changes that we are going th[r]ough, we are unable to secure the investment needed to organise and run the fringe events, ignite labs, or the reflect and connect sessions at this year’s ACE.

It’s no secret that fringe events don’t always attract huge numbers, and it’s also no secret that the people who turn up and participate, often really appreciate and enjoy the opportunities they cocreate together. Decisions have to be made, and this one appears to be based on cost as opposed to value.

Subsequently it transpires fringe events will continue at the conference this year, and my understanding is people won’t be paid to run them. That’s their choice. Lots of us choose to do voluntary and pro-bono work, me included. It’s good to give something back, particularly to organisations which do great work and are short of cash. I’m not sure that working for free at a commercial event which charges exhibitors thousands of pounds for floor space, and conference goers hundreds of pounds to attend, is in quite the same category.

I’m citing a specific event here, however more broadly, I engage in lots of discussion about why commercial events expect people to work for free, or (shudder) for the ‘exposure’. I’m aware of someone who was recently asked to judge some awards, and was expected to pay for the ‘privilege’ of doing so.

And don’t get me started on everyone who is expected to give up their time to speak at events for free. People want to give back, want to share knowledge, want to help those coming though or starting in their careers, but isn’t this knowledge and expertise worth something?

It’s tricky, but when the idea that freelancers will work for free is set as the default, and we agree to play by those rules, ultimately we support the practice, and become part of it.

All good things come to an end. I can’t deny I find the change in how the fringe at this event will now operate, disappointing, both in itself and in the manner in which it has arisen. However it has been excellent fun and great learning helping to shape and facilitate so many engaging and interesting gatherings over the years. HR Unscrambled, Reflect and Connect, The Art of Conversation, and Performance Related Play have been some of the best things I’ve been fortunate to take part in.

Thank you to everyone who has conversed, drawn, painted, played, shared experiences, reflected, taken action, and got to know each other a little better.

Taking Responsibility

A friend recently pointed me in the direction of a short TED talk by Barry Schwartz (8 minutes), titled “The way we think about work is broken.” Schwartz observes that we’re not used to challenging things which have become socially acceptable, and over time, the blandification which sets in as a result of this reluctance, makes more and more work soulless and demeaning.

Schwartz’s short talk strikes a painful and necessary chord for me. I spend a lot of time taking deep breaths before asking those awkward questions. In so doing, I offer a challenge to the so-called ‘socially acceptable’ stuff. I seek to do this with kindness, yet observing and inquiring about those “elephants in the room,” frequently brings forth dissonance.

I’m both privileged and cursed by my late Mum who brought me up this way, to take responsibility for what I see around me, and to ask why. The initial responses I get from people in these inquiries often include shock, disbelief, sometimes even anger. I understand and appreciate the nature of the responses I get because very often, the awkward question I’m asking, however simple it may seem, challenges my own beliefs too.

To disagree with the norm puts people at risk. At risk of social exclusion, maybe even the risk of losing your job. A good friend recently introduced me to a group of people with these words: ‘Doug is someone who has an ability to ask challenging questions, openly and honestly and in a way that acknowledges his own shortcomings too. It’s powerful, and it’s why some people can’t wait to work with him again and why others never want to see him again’.

People say they want honesty and openness, until they look me in the eye and see my own and their own inadequacies reflecting back at them. At that point, it becomes easier to blame someone or something – in preference to owning (at least a share of) the responsibility for change.

I’m working with a group of people who are gathering some data about their performance, from people the group provides a service to. Prior to starting the exercise, the group reports feeling undervalued. The initial signs from the data relating to responsiveness, quality of work and other things, is strongly positive. There seems to be a mismatch? People self-select into small groups during some brief time we have together and agree a plan to self-organise, meet and discuss the data, then reconvene and share observations, findings, and suggested actions for improvement.

We gathered again several weeks later for the review, and it quickly became clear no one had met to talk. No one at all. Reminders had been sent, offers of assistance had been made, and nothing seemed to have happened. I was keen to understand why, and no one had any answers, at least none they were willing to state to the group. Maybe I should have gently persisted, gone deeper, but I didn’t. Maybe the sense of feeling undervalued which the group expressed is part of their own way of not taking responsibility? We ended up having the discussion together when the original intention was to have a review of things already discussed, and progress from there.

These things happen sometimes, and in this case, there was frustration expressed by people, both in the room and afterward, at the lack of progress. By way of an example, someone fed back, anonymously, that the whole thing was a “pointless waste of time because no one contacted me to arrange the discussion.” It apparently hadn’t occurred to this person they could have chosen to be the catalyst.

Subsequently, I reviewed the situation and asked myself what I could have done differently. What pieces of the process could I have taken better care of, could I have taken clearer ownership for? I spotted a few things, and I also wondered, did I expect too much that this group might self-organise and make something happen? After all, they were used to working in a typical hierarchical way, which often involves waiting to be told what to do. I’m not sure, and what I did observe, was that all the feedback from the group was about apportioning blame, rather than taking responsibility.

Enthusiasm, encouragement, support – these are all helpful, lovely, necessary ingredients which go towards co-creating a good working experience. And they’re not enough. At times, we need to take a deep breath and ask the awkward, challenging questions, and acknowledge our own shortcomings and those of others too. Not with the intention of shaming anyone, but in pursuit of a better outcome next time. We also need to take responsibility too. The clearer we can be about this the better. Clearly defined ownership of specific actions beats vague high level sweeping statements from which we can all abdicate from. Without finding the courage to do that, my concern is that all the rest, all that other good stuff, is surely just a waste of time?