It is hard not to feel uplifted and a sense of deep pride and hope as you watch this video that dynamically tells a story about human improvement at a fundamental level.

How many teachers like Stephen Ritz would it take to initiate a sea change in our educational approaches?  I would argue, not that many.

Enjoy this presentation.

As a result, the obvious and subtler aspects of invitations have been on my mind lately. Perhaps to some, focusing on an invitation may sound overly formal, even fussy. However, as leader, convener, and hostess, I have found that taking some thoughtful time with this first step to planning a meaningful gathering can do much to set the tone, attract the desired participants, and manage expectations — all of which can make a meeting, a workshop, a retreat or a party more successful. To me, success means that the purpose of the gathering has been met —the meeting was productive and satisfying; participants got real value from the workshop; the retreat was fruitful and energizing for the group; or the party was fun, inclusive, maybe even magical.

An invitation is more than an agenda; it is an offer, and right off the bat this makes it more risky to the convener. An offer is an opening that leaves one vulnerable to rejection. What if people don’t want to come? What if they don’t want what I am offering? However, an invitation is also a form of generosity, both a gift of inclusion—signaling to others that they are wanted—and a gift of communication, providing insight into the purpose of the gathering and how participants might benefit.

At a recent meeting called to talk about a somewhat controversial aspect of youth programming, an invitation had been sent to a broad group of interested adults, some of whom had been critical of those responsible for the programming, or had expressed conflicting points of view. The email invitation was short and simple, but intentionally written to sound open, respectful, and neutral as to outcomes. The invitation assumed that we all have good intentions and could come together on this issue.  During an introduction round asking what brought us to this meeting, one man replied, “Because I was invited – and that felt good.” Fears of contention dissipated in that moment, and the meeting was highly productive. The invitation had helped to reset how we discussed this important topic, opening up the capacity for adults with strong opinions to unify around what was best for the youth.

I often wrestle with how to use invitations to capture a glimpse of what the gathering could be. There is an art to defining the purpose without predetermining the experience, to create interest, intrigue, even excitement about what might occur. Consider the everyday meeting, mandatory, a regular gathering where work is discussed and perhaps decisions get made. This is a practical kind of gathering, and yet it can be more. What meeting convener has not wished on occasion for a more engaging and stimulating discussion that results in greater understanding of an issue and perhaps a wiser decision? How might an invitation change the dynamic?

A friend told me a story about how she had used an invitation to completely shift the way she did performance reviews with her staff. Meetings were typically one-on-one, and my friend and her employee would go over the performance review paper work together. Often the employee was nervous or defensive, even when the feedback was primarily positive, and this had a dampening effect on my friend’s ability to have a constructive discussion. While the task was accomplished, she rarely felt satisfied with the experience.

This time, she created an invitation that offered: “Join me for a conversation celebrating the accomplishments and performance of the past year! We’ll discuss what worked well, what could change, and put together a plan for the next year. Please bring your earnest feedback for both of us. I’ll provide the paperwork.” The card was simple but hand-written, and had enough light humor to set the tone for a more relaxed, honest conversation between her and her employee. She told me afterwards that many commented during the review how much they appreciated her invitation – how far it went to allaying their fears about being criticized.

As we enter the age of convening – where complex challenges, adaptive change, hard times, and the thirst for deeper meaning and connection draw us to together – we will need to pause and remember the value of this type of “nicety.” Whether to accelerate productivity, build community or just celebrate, I believe we cannot overlook the value and power of invitations in helping to shape and influence the gatherings we initiate.

At one point, Gross asked Waters, "What's a dish you came up with that you're particularly proud of?"  Alice said the fruit bowl.  For the last fifteen years she's asked the pastry department to put together a bowl of fruit to round out their dessert offerings.  She spoke of the discernment required on the part of the cooks: "...choosing just the right moment for that fruit and connecting with the farmers at the last minute to bring just the most beautiful taste to the table."

Terry then quoted Michael Pollan (a renowned writer on food and other topics) who ate at Chez Panisse and ordered the fruit for dessert, "not quite sure whether a plain bowl of fruit on a restaurant menu was best interpreted as an expression of culinary modesty or culinary audacity [my emphasis]."  Terry asked Alice which she thought it was.

Ms Waters: "I think it's both, you know, in a way.  You just want to bring people into something that's unintimidating [my emphasis]."

I was wowed by that exchange.  Here's a leader in her field, commanding a prix fixe of about $100 at her world-famous, French cuisine-inspired restaurant, choosing to offer fresh, ripe, local fruit on her dessert menu.  I loved Pollan's wondering, Terry's question, and--most of all--Alice Waters' answer: it's both modest and audacious. 

And I think it's a sweet little object lesson on leadership for our times. 

Intimate Leadership

In my work with my clients I think I am at my best when I aim for the "plain bowl of fruit."  When I ask, "What is ripe?"— as in, "What is most alive and ready to be discovered and metabolized?"  Or, "How can I guide people into something—their insides or their aspirations—in a way that is 'unintimidating?'"  The "audacity" of this approach is perhaps the faith—earned over decades of practice—that all I have to do is be present and work with what shows up.  Because we can't really ever know what will be "ripe."  What's audacious is the nakedness—like playing Mozart vs. Rachmaninoff (there's no hiding behind the notes).  The "modesty," on the other hand, is quite simply not showing off: not pretending to know what I don't know, not trying to impress with what I do know, being genuinely curious, down-to-earth, real.  

I want to encourage us leaders (of organizations, communities, movements, groups, families--or simply our own lives) to lead with more of Waters' blend of modesty and audacity.  The alchemy of these—which we could also call humility and courage, presence and play, curiosity and confidence—in my opinion (and personal experience) evokes genuine followership and draws energy and ideas from the people around us.

Embodied Truth

In the body, I locate these qualities—I'll call them humility and courage—in the feet and the heart, respectively.  Years ago while leading a workshop on facilitation skills I invited the participants to open the soles of their feet and feel the connection to the earth beneath them.  One man in the group had a profound shift: he got out of his head, where he'd been worrying about 'getting it right' and 'looking good', and became more present and connected to his partner and to his own intuition.  This led to a relaxed confidence and sudden joy in his ability to facilitate.  Humility—from the same root as humus (the soil layer not the dip)—is our ability to remain 'down-to-earth' even as we assume higher status roles of leadership.

Courage and the heart are linked—even linguistically, coeur being the French for heart.  A metaphor I love (though I can't for the life of me recall where I came across it) is opening the portcullis.  A portcullis is the heavy wooden or iron gate, often on the castle side of a drawbridge, that is raised and lowered by means of a winch.  Our breastbone--and the ribs connected to it--can be thought of in the same way: guarding or allowing entrance to the realm of our hearts.  Closing off our hearts by collapsing our chest also cramps our breathing, making us less alive.  Lifting the breastbone is not the same as puffing out the chest in bravado (which I did nearly every time I walked the halls between classes in tenth grade, trying to look bigger and tougher than I felt).  An act of true courage, it is not about showing off but about showing up: opening ourselves, our hearts, to life, to the present.  Not about trying to impress, but about disarming and allowing life to touch us.  Not about intimidation, but intimacy--connecting authentically with what's alive in the moment.

Post-Heroic  

A fancy French restaurant—as Garrison Keillor likes to point out—can be intimidating (making us timid).  Afraid we'll use the wrong fork or mispronounce the entrée, we get uptight, careful, less joyful, less alive.  Leaders can do the same; instill timidity, merely with their outsized presence.  Or not.  Malcolm Gladwell, in What the Dog Saw, talks about presence in the title essay.  He portrays a 'dog whisperer' calming violent dogs and a movement therapist working with an autistic boy.  Commenting on their grace and effectiveness, he says this about their presence:  "Certain people, we say, 'command our attention,' but the verb is all wrong.  There is no commanding, only soliciting." This is presence without intimidation; power without domination.

The terms "facilitative leadership" and "leader-as-convener" have emerged recently in leadership consulting circles to describe a shift from the heroic leader archetype to a more relational, empowering, galvanizing role.  Where the heroic leader has the answers, the facilitative leader has the questions that evoke the group's interest and intelligence.  Where the heroic leader instills fear and sets a high bar for performance, the facilitative leader builds trust and invites authentic engagement.  The terms point to a leadership that "...link[s] rather than rank[s]..."; that uses presence to invite rather than cow.

A Different World

When Alice Waters puts a fruit bowl out for her clients, she is not commanding their attention, but soliciting it, using what's most alive and ripe in the environment.  She has the confidence and courage not to try to impress but simply to get out of the way and present something that's honest, fresh and satisfying.  

In doing so, she evokes the freedom in her patrons simply to say yes to what is delicious.  In doing so, she is practicing not intimidation but intimacy; a quiet vulnerability and sensuous contact with what nourishes her people and brings them pleasure.  

I believe this alchemy of humility and courage makes Alice Waters a great chef—and makes for good teachers, therapists, consultants, corporate leaders, parents and artists.  I like to imagine our world with our leaders leading from this stance.  

Where could you lead with more modesty-and-audacity?  What would change in your life/work/world if you did?

If you want to catch up, you can read about the first community meeting held in September using the World Café conversation process, and the second held in early October. 

One of the characteristics of the Town’s process that has made this a story worth telling is the fact that community leaders did not jump to solutions in meeting one, despite the public appetite for answers. Rather, they created an opportunity for the public to take the time needed — and employed good process — to explore the problem, get clear about the impacts on the community, and absorb the facts about teen substance abuse in Reading. As a result, we had our eyes opened to the depth, complexity and adult complicity that are fundamentally a part of this challenge here and possibly everywhere. No simple solutions—not just about more enforcement or “bad” kids, not something that happens “in other towns.”

The third meeting was billed as the time to talk about solutions. It was held in late October, and consisted of short presentations by panelists that included: Reading Police Chief, Assistant District Attorney, Reading Schools Superintendent, and Director of Reading Coalition Against Substance Abuse (RCASA).  Each presenter responded to the questions they had been receiving from the public – they were honest and clear about what they were doing about the issue, what they could do more of, and what they could not do. And they asked for help.

What struck me was how earnest and transparent the presenters were. They clearly cared about this problem as much as we did, and owned up to their frustration about their limitations in solving it. There was only so much a police department, a DA, school staff, or a coalition could do — this was a true community problem, and by now, most of the 180 or so of us in the audience were starting to understand this.

They also shared more information, the crime statistics, the impact of “see something, say something,” the results of a recent behavioral health assessment of the schools, facts about teen substance abuse.  After each presentation, there was time for questions, and at the end the community (seated at round tables) had time to talk together about what we could do. While there were no silver bullet solutions, many of us walked away with more clarity about steps we could take as parents and residents.

The leadership stance I witnessed that night was a shift from what I’ve experienced in the past. No one played the Hero – no promises were made to control or fix this problem, to “clean up” Reading. The issues were not candy-coated or minimized, and answers weren’t simplified into digestible sound bites. Yet these leaders showed a refreshing courage, making apparent the stark truth of this challenge and its community-wide, systemic implications. The RCASA director pulled no punches when she told the audience, “We need to ask ourselves about our own behavior, our own history and experience with substance abuse. Are we being honest with ourselves?”

In our work with leaders we often talk about the need for this kind of "post-heroic" leadership mind-set in our times. This term was originally coined by David Bradford and Allan Cohen in their book Power Up: Transforming Organizations Through Shared Leadership. Today, many leadership scholars, theorists and practitioners emphasize the need for leaders to shift away from controlling, expertise-driven or “heroic” stances, to more facilitative approaches aimed at developing highly participatory teams, organizations and stakeholders, who share commitment and leadership for the challenges they collectively face. And we are told this form of leadership is rare – there are few examples to point to.

So what happened in Reading? Are these humble local leaders really pioneering a new era of leadership? I’m not sure they would think so, but they nonetheless took the risk to try something different. They knew the nature of teen substance abuse was not going to be solved under their authority alone. Rather than pander to a naive and angry public, these local leaders made time and space for people to explore the problem together and come to see its facets of complexity. They made the choice to be transparent, to share all that they knew, and were able to take ownership for what they could and could not do. They asked for help.  They became “post-heroic” in this effort because they had few options, and it made practical sense. 

So will this stick? Will this new form of leadership transcend into other aspects of their work? Will our town slip back into a haze of denial? Hard to tell, but in my experience there will always be some back sliding. But seeds have been planted and successful experiences have been had. It was the closing question to the audience by the Town Manager, however, that really gives me hope: “How many of you would like us to have more conversations like this about important local issues?” We all raised our hands.

*****

A comment from Karen about my blog of the first meeting asked: When and how should leaders make the investment (time, money) needed to stage this kind of community engagement?

This is my answer: If the challenges your department, organization, and/or community are complex; and, if as a leader you have no obvious answers, or if solutions require others to play a role, to adapt or change, then the time is NOW.  And as to HOW, call a professional who knows the processes that help people to discover their collective investment in the challenge and take shared leadership for the solution. Call us.

Town leadership, however, employed a strategy for addressing community concerns that departed from more traditional approaches – rather than hold a public meeting where people come to demand “solutions” from local officials and experts, leaders decided to slow down and take the time to help the community explore together the nature of substance abuse and violence in Reading, before addressing what is being/can be done.  

The first meeting was a World Café-style community conversation that I blogged about several weeks ago. The participants talked together about the impacts of substance abuse on our community, and explored what some root causes might be. The conversations and “harvest” (output) began to illuminate the depth and complexity of the issue and the wide variety of perspectives, concerns and dilemmas that exist—this is not a challenge with a silver bullet solution. 

A few weeks ago, the Reading Coalition Against Substance Abuse (RCASA), a grant-funded organization that works on this issue with the community and our youth, hosted the 2nd meeting. The purpose of this event was to increase our understanding of this problem with data from the source—our youth. Information included: highlights from the latest Reading High Youth Risk Behavior Survey; personal stories from a local mother and daughter who have been battling the daughter’s 8-year heroine addiction that started in high school; and lastly, a presentation by the RCASA “Youth Crew” of a series of projects they were undertaking in response to what they have been learning, asking for adult volunteers to help with specific components. With over 150 people in attendance, the event was engaging, eye opening, and moving.

Eye opening—yes, we need our eyes opened. I noted after the World Café conversation how naïve our community is about this pervasive, equal opportunity issue. And yet people came to that meeting with such strong and widely divergent convictions about what they thought the problem was and the solution should be. This behavior is not limited to my town – this is what we do as humans when we are trying to make sense of complex issues. We tend to block out what we don’t want to know, or can’t quite wrap our heads around, or that which fails to comport with our own personal experience or sense of the world. This can be both a survival tool, when simplification keeps us from becoming overwhelmed, and a survival roadblock, when simplification keeps us from seeing the whole. And this response can create Blind Spots.

We were confronted with some of our blind spots at the RCASA meeting. The heroine addict’s mother, who could have been any of us, saying, “I just didn’t want to believe she was that kind of girl, I wanted to believe our family was the one in our Christmas cards, smiling, happy, whole.” Our small, well-to-do community that wants our children to have the best, yet 30% of Reading High students (an all time high) report feelings of stress and anxiety to such a degree that they experience clinical depression and thoughts of suicide, have attempted suicide, and/or practiced “cutting” and other self-mutilating behaviors. The fact that most Reading teens get their first drugs from our medicine cabinets – our painkillers, our alcohol – and 90% of their use occurs in our homes. Blind spots.

So how do we to illuminate blind spots in our world? How do we really start to see the whole issue, challenge, or system? Because if we can’t see it, how can we possibly address, solve, adapt, change…for the better?

These community meetings are providing some clues. We need to include the people with X-ray vision, those who don’t share our perspectives or experiences, our blind spots. These people can be anywhere: the heroine addict’s friend who finally called the mother and told her the truth; the Reading high students and their collective survey responses about their own behavioral health; the RCASA youth crew who are looking for ways to create purpose and meaning in their lives – wanting to be contributors to solving the problems we want to avoid or foist upon others. X-ray vision is critical to helping us — communities, organizations, nations — start to illuminate the blind spots that keep us from understanding the whole of what confronts us.

When we engage stakeholders — those who are impacted by the adaptive challenges ahead — in a strategic, meaningful process of dialog and communication, we make room for those who may have X-ray vision, who can see what others may not. And if we don’t, if we keep thinking our own “expertise” or experience is enough, we will continue to breathe our own exhaust and ultimately fail to understand the totality of the challenge or glimpse the possibilities of a better way.

The last meeting in Reading is the time to start talking about action steps. What is being done, what else can we do? We will both hear from a panel of local leaders and talk amongst ourselves about these questions. Armed with a new collective appreciation of this challenging issue, I am looking forward to what might be next, as we continue to learn together. Stay tuned…

This story highlights a recurring theme in my life.  A personal calling to mediate the whole.  A desire to see and hear the middle.  A passion for meaningful debate vs. meaningless argument.  This doesn't mean I don't have strong opinions that differ from others—anyone who knows me personally can attest to my stubborness and immobility around an issue.  But despite that, I also believe that real progress and long term solutions to the challenges we face must come from a "voice" that speaks for the whole.  For ideas and actions to have any success, they must account for the diversity of opinion that exists within the system.

And I think it does not matter what scale we are talking about: whether it is global climate change or macro economic system evolution vs. local initiatives to create healthy, safe neighborhoods or improve schools.  We still need to find that voice that speaks for the whole.  I think progress and success depends on our capacity to negotiate the diverse perspectives that exist.

And I sense that my argument is radical in this day and age of Left vs Right, Democrat vs. Republican, MSNBC vs. FOX, OWS vs. Tea Party, Unionized Labor vs. Ownership... We are splintered: one group on the starboard side casting stones and dispersions at the other group on the port side, while the ship continues to list and take on water.  As much as we might want to throw the "others" overboard to get our way, neither side has the power to do so.  We need one another to right the ship.

I am upholding the belief that meaningful, respectful dialog among traditional adversaries is a requirement for success and progress.  Whether between a boss and her employee or two senators with differing letters after their name, I think we need to talk to each other differently.  We have become acclimated to a culture of profound disrespect where name calling and stereotyping is okay—where the smallest compromise is "selling-out" to the other.  We feel a little bit better about ourselves knowing we are smarter, more informed, more powerful, more attuned, correct, right and just.

Our short term personal "feel-good" gain is quickly minimized however, when we account for the damage and continued "leakiness" of the community, organization, institution, or system.  The big challenges are not really being addressed in a way that will lead to long term success.  Our short term wins (and losses) are just that... short term.  So why aren't we striving for a long term win/win?

I have an image of a see-saw: it is much easier for me to be up or down or in motion than it is to maintain balance with the other.  That takes work, investment, a balancing or negotiation of different needs.  In that process it is easy for me to lose a sense of myself and what I stand for; I feel like I am dangling in space without two feet on the ground.  When I was trying to derail a meaningless fight between a friend and a stranger, it would have been easy to succumb to an inner, ego-driven voice to either defend my friend more aggressively by fighting for him and asserting my own alpha status (e.g. put my feet on the ground) or back away entirely and let the chips fall where they may—to protect myself and abdicate responsibility (e.g. going up and out of control).  Neither option presented good long term results, so I acted from a place of abdicating my own personal needs and I strove instead for a higher purpose—a win/win solution.

Perhaps the first step among "adversaries" is figuring out what we actually agree on.  As humans, there likely is something to align around.  And when we speak and listen to that thing that we both fundamentally value, we might actually start to see each other as humans, as people, not just as stereotypical "others."  It is a place to start constructing a "greater good" future possibility that compels us to negotiate our differences—to give and take as needed to construct a better future.

Even though I have personal biases, as evidenced in my last semi-political blog post, I am choosing to not let those biases dictate who I communicate to and how I go about talking to them.  We may sit on different sides of an issue, but with dialog, inquiry, patience, management of ego, and effort, I believe we can see things in one another that were opaque to us prior to that engagement.  That "seeing" is a foundation for building.  For "co-laboring" together.  GLI is committed to helping people with diverse strong opinions see each other more clearly, as well as see the bigger picture of what is needed: we are, in fact, on the same ship; we need to chart a new course; we need to fix the holes; we need to bail out the water; we need each other to have sustained progress.

Who is calling for the voice of the whole?  Where is respectful dialog happening among adversaries?  How do we stop flipping the coin of who's right and who's wrong?  What will it take to move to higher ground together?

What brings me to this conclusion actually comes from the confusion and criticism leveled at the protestors, which revolves  around their lack of clarity of purpose: if you ask 100 people why they are there or what they want, you will get 100 different answers.  This lack of clarity or common voice is the strongest clue about what is really happening.

Model adapted from the work of Margaret Wheatley and Deborah Frieze at Berkana Institute

I believe we (in this country) are all riding on the downward slope of a dying economic system.  The fundamental assumptions and infrastructures that support this economic system are no longer true and adequate to the challenges of our society. While not all may share my perspective about this topic, as leaders we can all learn about systems and change from this example, and the diverse and important roles that need to be "occupied" in order for deep change in any system to occur.

For the sake of argument, a few examples that, for me, point to the failure of the dominant economic system in the United States include:

• Inability to adequately account for environmental impacts: the bottom line of production and distribution costs do not account for the cost of clean up, restoration, or long term environmental impacts
• Equality, fairness and social justice is not part of the equation: to win in this economic system you have to be able to buy your way in.  An increasing number of us are less able to do this and many of us have never been able to do this.  The story that "everyone has the same opportunities to succeed" is less true now than it has been in the past
• The system is devoid of a moral compass: if money can be made by doing something that is technically not illegal, than it is okay to do it—regardless of the other consequences. In some high profile situations, legality is not a barrier either and the consequences seem inadequate
• Health of the system is predicated on increased consumption and growth: this assumption presumes unlimited resources and capacity for growth, which might have felt true 50 years ago, but on our increasingly small planet, is not viable

And to compound these challenges, we are all (or most of us) intimately invested in this system.  Our political and corporate leaders are the most entrenched and have the most to lose from wholesale change, but if you own a car, have a mortgage or heat your home with fossil fuels—you, too, are part of it.  

The (mostly) young people "Occupying Places" throughout the country have the least to lose and the most to gain from change to our economic system.  The challenge is that there is not a new ship to jump onto.  The new system that would ideally account for the deficiencies of the old is not yet established.  

The energy of the protestors is born from extreme dissatisfaction with an existing system.  The fact that they don't have the "answers" to what the replacement should be is not a good reason to discount the efforts they are making.  The anecdotes from the Occupy Together Movement actually convey a certain sense of pride around not really knowing the solution—rather upholding an ethos of self-organization around the needs that people bring to the table—or in many cases, the park.  

In our work we are aware of many failing/dying systems that need significant upgrades or wholesale changes to be effective in delivering their purpose in this day and age.  And we work with leaders and influencers who are playing diverse roles in that system, all of which have value and help systems to evolve. To explain the Map above, I've describe some of the key roles below, and offered some examples of who might be playing these roles with respect to the US economic system.

• Protect and Hospice the declining system: in its most virtuous sense, these people provide cover for emerging ideas and concepts to take root and build critical momentum—to allow the new ship to be built before the old one sinks.
  • President Obama and Ben Bernanke are good examples of Protectors, as they struggle to keep the existing economic system from collapsing
  • As a consumer with an inverted mortgage, car payments, and a few untenable spending habits  I recognize how I am providing Hospice to the system, because I am playing into the outdated assumptions, even though I know it has to change.  I am striving to "buy my way out" of the system and establish a more sustainable course of economic prosperity

• Midwife and Pioneer new ideas: these are folks who are willing to dream big and act in ways that are counter to the dominant system, to experiment and pilot many efforts that may or may not work, all with the quest of finding a better way.
  • In many respects, those people like my dad going to "support those kids" are Midwives, because they are striving to support and birth something new and unknown.  They have energy and passion for making something different and better
  • The micro lending movement exemplified by organizations like Kiva and holistic humanistic initiatives like the Harlem Children's Zone are Pioneering efforts to affect lasting positive change to the socio-economic realities of perennially underserved populations

• Illuminate what is emerging: people who are building bridges and demonstrating jumping off points that help people to see other, better ways and to move to those new paths when the time is right.
  • The Occupy Wall Street "occupiers", organizers, and journalists are helping to Illuminate the impending change—naming the deficiencies and inviting people to discover other ways of thinking about the problem and the solution

• Champions name the reality of systemic change from a place of power and influence: they provide incentive, motivation, and credibility to the those people efforting to create new systems of influence.
  • Warren Buffet and his "Billionaire Group" are good examples of Champions, willing to speak and act from the "inside" of the power circle of our economic system, inviting change that does not necessarily benefit them directly, but has potential positive impacts on the greater good.

Regardless of the systems we are in, be they cultural, organizational, national or local, the challenge for many leaders is recognizing the role they are occupying, why they are in that role and what other role(s) they might aspire to in order to help the process along; to adapt.  They need to recognize that the discontent of people/employees (low morale, low trust, low productivity) and the lack of a clear solution is a symptom of this larger systemic evolution — and the lack of knowing or being able to act upon a solution is actually a sign that we need to Occupy that space of not knowing together.  The first step to solving the problem is not a policy, but a process of engagement.

The people Occupying Places together are keyed into that real need.  The need to come together to figure this stuff out.  The need to try something bold and counter to the dominant culture to see what sticks.  They are occupying a crucial role by giving us the heads up that this system is changing, illuminating that what's to come will not look the same, no matter how hard we may choose to cling to the sinking ship, and they take collective comfort in this even as the future remains murky and unclear. 

So what role are you occupying in your system? What are the symptoms of change in your organization? As a leader or influencer, where do you need to be? 

Reading, MA is a residential town 14 miles outside Boston. We have big houses here, lots of trees, good schools, low crime and high taxes. The people who live here are mostly white, middle class, and fairly conservative (by Massachusetts standards). And many settled down here thinking that they were avoiding issues like teen substance abuse and drug-related murders.

This story is not unique – communities throughout our nation wrestle with issues like this, and the “suburban blight” of teen substance abuse is not news – heck, it wasn’t news when I was in high school. But the way we are starting to talk about it might be. 

Rather than host a town meeting where angry, frightened people speak accusingly of local oversight, or demand solutions to the perceived problem (More enforcement! Zero tolerance!), community leaders decided to start a public conversation about the topic.

The conversation, attended by almost 200 people – teachers, parents, neighbors, local officials and teens – was the first of three events planned to open up this issue to civic dialogue.  Despite the public appetite for “solutions,” community leaders recognized the need to first take time to develop a shared understanding of the problem.

Sure enough, many came with strong beliefs about what they thought the problem was and how it should be addressed — and conversed with others who had similar convictions about their view of the issue. And yet perspectives varied widely. As we “harvested” themes about the community impact of substance abuse, it became clear that the impacts were everywhere, and that many initial perceptions were colored by denial, fear and an overall naïveté about the problem. Talking about root causes, the complexity of this issue started to reveal itself, as everything from inconsistent consequences (“zero tolerance is OK for your kid, but not for mine”), teen stress, peer pressure, lack of parental oversight, and a host of mixed messages from adults who use and abuse, were named. Not so simple. Not so black and white. Maybe not their problem to fix, but ours.

And this is when I felt the shift. As the somber reality of our complicit involvement in the problem began to emerge, I noticed a new energy in the room, a heightened consciousness and connection among the participants. One might expect that this new awareness would be depressing – that the complexity of this issue would feel demoralizing, overwhelming, even futile. But despite comments expressing grave concern, despite the fact that we ended the evening on this serious note, the atmosphere felt almost hopeful.

I believe I witnessed the power of our human and mammalian heritage, residing in the mechanics of our neurology. Nature has hard-wired us with the ability to bond in the face of adversity and collective challenge; by inclusively sharing our personal truths and confirming what we value most, we open ourselves up to become part of the solution.

Our capacity to manage cold, hard reality together is impressive. When groups explore the nature of challenging issues together they are able to move past personal survival responses—which tend to be narrow and simplistic—and become better at identifying collective possibility and taking concerted action. This is the power of community, and leaders in all sectors can benefit from its strategic potential. Capitalizing on this power can pull us through—can help us respond and adapt to the challenges that no one person or expert can solve.

I closed the evening with this statement – if you are feeling uncomfortable, good. It will help keep your attention. Come to the next event and learn more.

That meeting is next week, and I am looking forward to seeing what our community will learn then. And I’ll be sure to share! 

Strongly rooted in behavioral scientific research is this somewhat counter-intuitive premise: when it comes to complex tasks where the solution is not easily understood, monetary incentives actually diminsh performance vs. increase it.

In fact what is motivating for people is to have a sense of Autonomy, Mastery and Purpose in the work.  And if money is no longer an issue (e.g. people earn a living wage or salary—they have enough), performance increases dramatically when these three elements are present.

What does this mean for leaders who are facing complex challenges in their organizations where answers and solutions are not easily seen or understood?

I think the challenge for so many leaders is how do we install these ethics into our cultural norms, especially when we have relied for so long on traditional command and control management structures?  How do we elevate and nurture engagement from our employees and stakeholders?

I often think step one is knowing, or in this case, not knowing how to do this.  What I mean is for leaders to be okay and comfortable with the fact that they have no idea how to create these conditions, and are willing to ask for help from the people.  The leader's job is to convene the conversations with her employees and stakeholders, ask the important questions, listen to and consider the answers, and act on what makes sense.  And when we act, our actions are informed by the people whom we want to be engaged in the process of devising solutions, so their level of commitment and buy-in (engagement) is already high.  Our actions are more likely to have the desired outcome.

There is a formula for making this happen.  We have supported many leaders grappling with the question of HOW?  How do I engage my employees or key stakeholders in helping me solve the tough challenges we are facing?  How do we get the momentum moving in the right direction, when for so long, we have been inert (at best) or in a downward spiral with trust and morale? 

It is a philosophical shift that can be challenging to our egos and sense of positional worth.  The leader is supposed to have the answer to the problem or know where to find it, right?  And yet, the realities we are facing defy that approach. I have empathy for the quagmire this poses to today's leader.  

And I offer hope.  There is a way through this.  It is not an abdication of your authority or position, but rather an expansion of how you define it.  Leaders need to "hold the space" for solutions and creative thinking.  They need to be willing to release hold on knowing and instead be vigilant in asking people to find it.  To nurture experimentation and exploration.  To give people the freedom to try something, and if it fails to harvest the learning and try again.  To acknowledge that any new effort towards a solution is better than no effort for fear of it failing.

I would argue that the stakes are pretty high right now for many organizations and institutions. Failure is a distinct possibility—especially if we continue to do things as we've always done.  We believe "the solutions are in the room" and are committed to helping people find those solutions.  We can help!

The clincher - we delete very obvious data when we are focused on a particular task; we essentially become blind to what might be right in front of our eyes. 

Check out the video before you read on to see how you do!

Did you see it?

According to the research results, nearly 60 percent of people watching this video fail to see someone dressed as a gorilla walking across the screen. In some situations, where there is a lot of peer pressure to get the answer right, 90 percent of the audience missed seeing the gorilla.

Yet some people do see it - people who focus differently than the majority, or who have different 'structural limitations' on their brains. 

What we miss, others may catch; our blind spots are visible to others, and we need that data, more than ever.  How can we leverage our differing perspectives to get the whole picture? 

What if I count, and you take care of that gorilla?

Happy co-Labor-ation day!