You will fail

the cane - a school punishment device from the 1970s

In my early years at school I loved learning French. The fact that my first French teacher was a kind, enthusiastic woman who drove a yellow Triumph Spitfire had no bearing on my enjoyment whatsoever. Miss Draisey was an excellent teacher, encouraging and trusting. I remember how shaken she was when discovering two girls cheating in a French spelling test. You just didn’t cheat in Miss Draisey’s class, she was too…nice.

Jump forward a few years and I’m sitting in the exam hall at Purley High School for Boys, aka Colditz. With a few notable exceptions, the teaching staff led by DGS Akers, our thoroughly unpleasant cane wielding headmaster, were a similarly grim bunch. They made Severus Snape look like Mr Tumble. My French teacher at this school was Madame Ananin. She came across pretty miserable most of the time, and seemed to have a loathing not only for all of us school boys, but her beautiful native language too. How odd.

Back to the exam hall. I’m at my desk, just one boy in an anonymous swathe of rows and columns. The teachers responsible for adjudicating the exam stalk the rows and columns as we prepare to start ‘O’ Level French (yeah I’m really that old!). Madame Ananin is on duty and she walks purposefully along the row of desks. She stops, puts a hand on my desk and leans over. She speaks four words, ‘You will fail Shaw’. She moves away from my desk and carries on. Thanks for the vote of confidence!

I passed ‘O’ Level French. I got a B grade and an A grade for spoken French. I won the inaugural Bruce McCallum Memorial Prize for spoken French that year too. My love for the French language was and is too strong for Madame Ananin.

Nowadays in the pursuit of helping people and teams to develop I encourage people to push themselves, often to and beyond the point of failure. Through failure we learn. To make mistakes and to fail is simply human, and in an encouraging environment it is a most powerful thing.

Know this. Creativity and innovation are forever locked in a whirling dancing fling with failure and chaos. As a leader, when you tell me you want creativity and innovation that’s great. And when you join the dance you never know whose hand you’ll take. You will fail. If you practice, you will learn and you will improve. And I will be there to celebrate that with you.

Thank you Madame Ananin.

photo c/o theirhistory

In the zone

I met Natasha earlier this week. We’ve exchanged many tweets and I was excited about this opportunity to meet in real life. We had a flowing conversation and the time passed all too quickly, as it does when you’re in the flow. Natasha is a great listener. That’s a nice way of me saying I think I talked a bit too much.

One of the things I spoke about was nerves. I often get nervous when performing (in every sense of the word), particularly at the start of something. When I say nervous I mean sick to the bottom of my stomach locked up tight can barely talk or walk cold sweat fear of God. That kind of nervous. This is a shame because I enjoy what I do very much and I know if I could channel these nerves more effectively I could enjoy myself even more and give something much better to people.

Natasha suggested I try a slight shift in my thinking. Could I maybe convert nervous into excited? I’ll try anything and this sounds like a good idea thanks very much Natasha, let’s see when I can apply it.

Tomorrow I’ll be joining up with some of the biggest and best names in and around the world of social recruitment. I’ll be meeting some familiar faces and some new ones too. I’m confident that I will learn useful stuff and have a really good time, and make a useful contribution to the day. I’m nervous about excited by the possibilities.

On Friday evening I’ll be in the New Forest standing on stage performing to a group of friends and acquaintances. It’s our annual summer camp and therefore my annual big night out. I’ve been doing this for several years now and the organisers are always kind enough to invite me back. It’s high time I repaid myself and the audience for their faith in me. I am nervous about excited by the possibilities.

How will I get on? I am excited about checking in with you again next week to let you know.