Is Your Job to Keep Others from Doing Theirs?

April 2, 2013

Within any organization, you’ll find two categories of people.

First, you’ll be surrounded by a majority of co-workers who produce results.

Barney FifeSecond, you’ll encounter a minority who believe their job is to keep the first group from doing theirs. These people resemble Barney Fife, the bumbling deputy who—when given a badge—overcompensated for his latent insecurities by flaunting his authority.

In the workplace, it’s always frustrating to be around insecure individuals who demonstrate the following characteristics:

  1. They know how, but not why. They’ve been given tasks to perform, but they cannot connect their work to the organization’s mission.
  2. They are inflexible and controlling. Too often, they resort to bullying. Their directives are intended to enforce compliance with arbitrary rules. They never ask, “What can I do to help you?”
  3. They fail to see the big picture. With blinders on, they focus on creating and enforcing rigid policies without considering the ripple effect upon teammates, upon other work processes and ultimately upon the customers we all serve.

Sometimes these villains are created by systemic breakdowns. More often, though, they are self-appointed. At various times, you’ll find them in every profession and in every department, including the following:

  • Marketing and Communications. Communicators who believe they must control the message are naive and obsolete. In today’s 2.0 world, our job is not to stifle, censure or muzzle communications, but rather to join and influence conversations.
  • Information Technology. Security of data will always be important. Some IT professionals, however, are so uncreative that they overlook what we can do with technology. Instead, they obsess over what they believe the rest of us must NOT do. Carried to an extreme, these IT curmudgeons would probably be happiest if we never turned on our computers, thereby avoiding the evils that lurk in cyberspace.
  • Fundraising. In the nonprofit world, donations represent an essential form of revenue. A minority of fundraisers, though, can become so preoccupied with hitting their “sales targets” that they subconsciously believe the organization’s primary mission is to raise money. That mindset prompts them to see the work of others as orbiting around them and their mercenary endeavors.
  • Human Resources. Why can’t HR professionals trust their colleagues to make good hiring decisions? I question policy makers who insist that only HR people are qualified to make job offers. In that spirit, why not require that all marriage proposals be made only through lawyers? After all, in both cases we’re dealing with legally-binding human relationships.
  • Legal. The best way to work with lawyers is to understand they’re not trained to say, “Yes!” They look for risk and then advise clients using various shades of “No.” I value legal counsel in an advisory role, yet I wonder about a minority of legal experts who appoint themselves to be the final authority in the decision-making process.
  • Finance. Money should always be viewed as a means to an end—a currency that helps an organization fulfill its mission. Accountants who fail to connect their work to the company’s mission tend to become enforcers and controllers (pun intended).

An organization’s success requires teamwork among a diverse, collaborative workforce. Only by working with—rather than against—each other will we produce results that will have a meaningful impact upon society.

As I see it, we have two options. We can either produce results, or we can obstruct the progress of those trying to get things done.

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Why I Work Best with Childlike Adults

February 13, 2013

The best places I’ve worked have been those where people approached work in a playful, childlike manner.

Unfortunately, I’ve also worked with stuffy, adult-like colleagues who made work a drudgery. They took themselves much too seriously.They mistakenly believed that work, by its very definition, must be onerous. Inevitably, they failed to produce memorable results.

I much prefer being with the creative, fun and productive people who spend their time “working” on meaningful projects. They are the ones who are destined to leave an indelible mark on this world.

They make a difference, in part, because they think and act like children. (Note: being childlike and childish are two very separate characteristics.)

The ideal workplace is populated with people who freely exhibit the following childlike virtues:

  1. Curious. Children are inquisitive and ask lots of questions. Answers to those questions spawn follow-up questions. The creative journey never ends.
  2. Creative. They inherently combine existing elements to form new patters. They punch through boredom by making good use of existing resources.
  3. Candid. A child will often speak the truth that others see but, in their adult-like manner, refuse to acknowledge. Remember, in Hans Christian Andersen’s classic story, it was a child who first pointed out the obvious: the emperor had no clothes.
  4. Simplistic. In my opinion, nothing kills natural growth and creative development more that complexity and bureaucracy. Simple ideas are usually the most durable.
  5. Playful. To a child, life is a game, an unfolding adventure of discovery, learning and exploration. The best games require strategy, mental alertness and commitment. Win or lose, a child always knows there are more games to play. The fun continues.
  6. Flexible. Children haven’t lived long enough to be deeply vested in the status quo. Seldom do they say, “But we’ve always done it this way.”
  7. Practical. A child always thinks about how something will directly affect him or her personally. They ask questions like, “What is this? What can I do with it? How does it affect me right now?”

I believe we should only hire and promote childlike people.

In fact, childlike people should never be confined just to the workplace. I always want to be surrounded by childlike family and friends whether I’m attending a social event, traveling on vacation or even attending church. Don’t forget that Jesus himself said (paraphrased), “Unless you become like a child, you will never reap life’s great rewards.

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The World Has Too Many Victims

January 21, 2013

“I choose not to be a victim!” Those powerful words were shared with me last week by a friend who has had lots of bad things happen to her.

She is currently between jobs, which is why she came to my office to talk over coffee. Because I’ve known her for several years, I also know she is divorced, she’s been bullied at work and, since childhood, she has been preyed upon (and I use that term in its ugliest connotation).

Yet her bold statement—I choose not to be a victim!—got me to thinking.

Does someone really choose to be a victim? Is that a decision one actually makes? Or is a victim created as the result of something bad that happens? Or from the selfish actions of others?

In reality, bad things happen to each of us, so we all might feel victimized in some way. Yet most of us choose to pick ourselves up, or at least to allow others to help us get back on our feet.

Victims, by my definition, are those who choose not to recover. They wallow in self-pity. They feel a sense of entitlement, somehow believing that the world owes them something. Instead of finding solutions, they search for excuses. They blame others for their circumstances. They refuse to take ownership of their reality, and they harbor bitter feelings of anger, despair and revenge.

Read the rest of this entry »


My Two Trips to Hana

December 30, 2012

Twice I have driven to Hana, an undeveloped tropical paradise on the Hawaiian island of Maui.

Truthfully, my first trip was very disappointing. The second trip, however, turned out to be a memorable and worthwhile adventure.

So what was different?

First, there were many similarities. On both trips, I was with my wife driving a rental car along the same, winding road. The scenery and the small town remained unchanged during the two years between visits. Even the weather was identical on both occasions.

So why was the second trip special?

Well, the first time we were driving hard to reach a destination. The narrow highway prohibited us from traveling as fast as I would have preferred. Even the wide spots in the road annoyed me because other drivers would pull over and walk around to enjoy the scenery. Those sightseers had no clue that they were in our way, delaying us from reaching our destination.

For those unfamiliar with the Highway to Hana, it extends more than 50 miles across the north side of Maui. The narrow, winding route contains 620 curves and passes over 59 bridges, 46 of which are only one lane wide.
Read the rest of this entry »


The Roads I’ve Hitchhiked

December 18, 2012

This summer while on vacation, my wife and I were driving towards the Great Smoky Mountains in Tennessee. Suddenly, it dawned on me that I’d once hitchhiked along those same roads.

That realization opened a flood of long-forgotten hitchhiking memories.

I recalled the time I thumbed a series of rides to Ohio to surprise my girlfriend. Neither she nor her family were impressed that I’d traveled so far—all alone—using such an unpredictable form of transportation. (Sometimes I’m still amazed that she eventually agreed to marry me!)

Then there was the time my buddy Steve and I hitchhiked overnight to Florida. The most memorable part of that trip came after we unfolded our sleeping bags and tried to sleep in the tall grass along the shoulder of southbound Interstate 75. Believe me, it’s impossible to rest while 18-wheelers thunder by at 80 miles an hour only a few feet from your head.

And how could I forget the adventure when my brother Gary and I nearly froze in the open bed of a pickup truck? Although it was summer in Colorado, we crossed the Continental Divide after midnight in the high altitude of the Rocky Mountain National Park. Brrrr!

Back in the day, I logged around 3,000 miles by begging for rides from strangers who might take pity on a poor, long-haired college kid standing alongside the road. Granted, it was a different time and thumbing for a ride was more popular then. Besides, I was young and didn’t think much about danger, perhaps because my mom did all the worrying for me.

On various trips I met a diverse assortment of people. There was the drummer for a popular rock band. I once was picked up by an aspiring ball player who hoped to someday play for the Cincinnati Reds. And then there was the old black man who was so tired he just wanted to sleep while I drove his car across Kentucky.

With the exception of some rednecks in Southern Georgia, the people I met were very nice. For example, I remain grateful for the Orlando policeman who—after reminding me that hitchhiking was illegal—reluctantly gave me a ride to my destination.

The end of the year provides an ideal opportunity to reflect on life and the roads we’ve traveled, both literally and figuratively.

In many ways, life is like hitchhiking. We often head towards unseen destinations, traveling along roads we’ve never been on, and will likely never traverse again. Along the way, we briefly meet some incredibly interesting people, and then abruptly we go our separate ways, never to cross paths again. Yet we remain grateful for those strangers who helped us reach our destination.

During the coming year, I resolve to continue exploring new horizons, though I’ve long-since forsaken hitchhiking. I also commit to creating memories along the virtual highways I’ll travel. I will savor the relationships that develop, and I will always give thanks for the beautiful, kind-hearted people I meet along the highways of life’s meandering journey.

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You Know It’s Time to Go Home When…

November 18, 2012

I am finally home after my deployment to New York City as part of the incredible disaster relief effort of the American Red Cross.

Memories of the long hours, the minor frustrations and the stressful conditions will quickly fade. My enduring memories will focus on the extraordinary team I worked with, the genuine kindness of the people of New York City and the thousands and thousands of people we helped who were affected by Superstorm Sandy.

One memory I’ll cherish is the brief chuckle I received when a fellow worker stopped by my cubicle at our headquarters in Midtown Manhattan. Without comment, he handed me a photocopied sheet titled “You know it’s time to go home when…” The list was not attributed to anyone, yet I share it with appreciation for those who brought a little humor into a serious workplace.

You know it’s time to go home when…

  1. You start referring to your hotel room as home.
  2. You start rearranging the furniture “at home.”
  3. You start receiving mail addressed to “resident” in your hotel room.
  4. You can’t remember the last time you wore something that didn’t come out of a suitcase.
  5. You no longer get lost.
  6. You know trouble spots on the traffic report on the radio.
  7. You stare uncomprehendingly at the people who have just been deployed when they ask, “How long have you been out?”
  8. Crisis counselors cry on your shoulder.
  9. You have trouble finding your home state on a map.
  10. When you hear of a disaster in another part of the country and you say, “Hey, I’d like to go there,” and suddenly you realize you’re from there.
  11. You start telling tourists where “the sights” are.
  12. You start telling the locals where “the sights” are.
  13. You start losing your native accent and begin speaking like the locals.

I will miss New York, and I hope to return. Yet, the time had come to return home.

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Giving Thanks After a Broken Alternator

September 23, 2012

It’s Sunday morning. Originally my wife and I planned to return home today after a long weekend to celebrate her birthday.

Those plans changed unexpectedly, though.

Thursday morning we drove 200 miles to stay in a nice condo overlooking Table Rock Lake in Southern Missouri. After eating dinner in nearby Branson, we were returning to our condo.

And then it happened.

Along a narrow, windy and hilly two-lane road, the car suddenly lost power. Strange! I was unable to accelerate, and the car would move no faster than five miles an hour. In all my years of driving I’d never experienced anything like that.

A guardrail and no shoulder prevented me from pulling over, so I crept along as a string of cars behind grew impatient with my snail-paced driving speed. After a couple hundred yards, the guardrail ended, yet a steep drop off with no shoulder prevented me from steering the car completely off the road.

Then the engine stopped and would not restart. Only the hazard lights worked.

I felt so helpless and vulnerable. Carol and I prayed for safety as we sat there partially blocking the narrow road. Cars were coming over the hill and around the corner much too fast.

To complicate things, the sun set about the time our car broke down, and I quickly realized that “country darkness” is much blacker than the city nights I’m used to.

We called AAA, yet it took nearly an hour for a tow truck to arrive. The driver dropped us off at our condo and then transported our wounded vehicle to the nearest Nissan dealer 50 miles away.

Early Friday morning, the repair shop called. The alternator had gone out. The good news was that everything would be covered under warranty. The bad news was they did not have a replacement in stock. The good news was that an alternator was being shipped by overnight express. The bad news was that “overnight” on a Friday meant it would be delivered on Monday morning. The good news is that our vacation was prolonged by an extra day.

So I’m writing this in the comfort of our condo as the sun rises above the lake below. I’ve had a couple of days to reflect on the whole experience. Even in the midst of my problems, I’ve found many reasons to be thankful, including the following:

  1. Safety. Carol and I were in dangerous circumstances, but other drivers somehow avoided hitting us as we blocked their road.
  2. Law enforcement. A very helpful police officer arrived about 30 minutes into our ordeal. He turned on his flashers and then stood along the road directing traffic.
  3. Roadside assistance. The 50-mile tow cost us nothing because we had previously purchased AAA-Plus, a premium roadside assistance package.
  4. Helpful mechanics. I have yet to meet the people in the dealer’s service department, but I am impressed with their customer service. They even went out of their way to make special arrangements for us get a rental car near our condo.
  5. Car warranties. I have no idea how much an installed alternator costs, but I don’t need to know because our car is still under warranty.
  6. A luxury condo. When we checked in at the condo, we learned that construction work was underway in the building we were scheduled to stay in. So, the management upgraded us (at our original price) and moved us into a larger, more luxurious unit. We were impressed with the new accommodations. I’m not used to having a separate thermostat to warm the tiles on the bathroom floor.
  7. A nice condo manager. When we explained the situation about our car repairs, the gentleman at the front desk allowed us to extend our stay while only charging us the deeply discounted rate we originally paid.
  8. Flexible colleagues. Staying here an extra day meant I had to reschedule three different people scheduled on my Monday calendar. They were very understanding, however.
  9. An accommodating CEO. When I asked my boss for permission to extend my vacation, he sent an email that said, “Not a problem and sorry to hear about the car problems.”
  10. A beautiful wife. Hey, if I have to be “stuck” in a luxury condo for an extra day while my car is being repaired, I’m glad it’s with someone I love. I’m also glad we were able to spend another vacation day together.

One final comment. Carol just proofread this post and found a couple of typos. Her main question, however, was why I listed her last on this list. Very simple answer: In my book, she’s a perfect 10, so it’s only appropriate that she would be given that number on the list of things I’m thankful for.

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In Minor Ways We Differ, In Major We’re the Same

August 1, 2012

Diversity enriches my world. I love being surrounded by people who bring different, more colorful perspectives to life.

In kindergarten, I liked going to art class with a big box of crayons. The more colors available, the greater my options for creating a refrigerator-worthy objet d’art.

In college, I engaged in vigorous debates with professors and fellow students. My education would have been shallow and boring if everyone had thought alike.

At my work, diversity creates a stronger, more productive team. My creativity flourishes when I’m surrounded by individuals who are different than I am. I value the perspective of those who challenge me to see the world from a different vantage point.

Yet, as much as I value diversity, I also recognize its downside. Diversity can quickly divide rather than unite. Obsessing on ways we are each different can goad me into being competitive or even combative. When I concentrate only on my differences with others, I tend to become angry, bitter or even vengeful.

Diversity works best when it balances two things. First, it must prompt us to value the humanity and unique talents that each individual brings into the world. Second, it must prompt us to focus on the ways we are alike so we can build upon those things that unite us. (Wouldn’t it be nice if candidates for political office did the same during an election year?)

One of my favorite quotes comes from Maya Angelou. In her poem Human Family she says, “In minor ways we differ, in major we’re the same.

Ms. Angelou closes her poem with these beautiful words:

I note the obvious differences

between each sort and type,

but we are more alike, my friends,

than we are unalike.

In my personal life, I am blessed to have many friends. Each person is special and I value the diversity of age, race, faith, education, politics, socioeconomic status and even personality.

While I observe these differences, I refuse to focus on things that divide us. I prefer to look at what we share in common. Together we share the adventure of life’s great journey, although we may be at different places along the same path.

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The Time I Wrote a Letter to the Editor

May 2, 2012

Once upon a time, I lived in Portland, Oregon where I did public relations for a local hospital.

The medical center was well-respected and almost always received positive news coverage. One day, however, a headline writer for The Oregonian newspaper hurriedly summarized a positive story with a less-than-positive choice of words. The story described how the hospital offered a signing bonus to recruit nurses during a severe nursing shortage. Instead of describing the bonus as an recruitment incentive, however, the headline writer used the word “bribe.” To his credit, he put quotes around the word to indicate its use as a colloquialism.

The hospital’s president (my boss) thought the newspaper was implying that he engaged in unethical, under-the-table transactions. He was enraged and immediately ordered me to write a letter to the editor expressing our indignation. Read the rest of this entry »


Things I’m Thankful for that I Once Took for Granted

November 22, 2011

In my younger days I obsessed on things I did not have, focusing both eyes on what was missing in my life. I believed I could achieve success by setting goals and then working hard to fill the voids, to reduce my deficits and ultimately to obtain more possessions.

Now I’m wiser and realize I have always been surrounded by vast abundance. Though it sounds like a cliché—especially at Thanksgiving time—I have so much to be thankful for, including the following items that are so obvious I have tended to take them for granted:

  1. My mom. Okay, I never took mom for granted, yet I assumed she would always be there. Just two years ago, mom sat at our Thanksgiving dinner table. She shared stories, told jokes and inquired about each of our lives. She was a great mother and I always knew that. Only since her unexpected passing, though, have I become fully aware of how thankful I am for the profound influence she had upon me and my family.
  2. My eyesight. I never thought much about my vision until a melanomic tumor on my retina claimed the use of my left eye. I share that information not out of self-pity—I don’t feel sorry for myself and neither should you. Quite frankly, I don’t spend much time thinking about what I’ve lost. Instead, I focus on what I still have—vision in one eye that allows me to drive, to take photographs and to enjoy the beautiful world surrounding me. For that, I am truly grateful. Read the rest of this entry »