Take 67 community leaders and a large map of Richmond. Post 200 colored sticky notes on the map. Discuss. One of the more interesting projects I’ve had this fall was the co-facilitation of the December mid-year session for the Leadership Metro Richmond (LMR) Class of 2010—a collection of 67 professionals representing a broad swath of the region. The focus of the session? A two-day conversation on racial identity, diversity and inclusion in Richmond. It was the sort of project that got interesting before it even started. LMR had put out an RFP for the session, and met with me to discuss Floricane’s proposal. Several days later, I was asked by LMR if I would be interested in partnering with one of the other organizations who had submitted a proposal. Instinct #1: This isn’t how these things work. Instinct #2: Or is it? Naturally, I went with the second instinct, which is how I found myself negotiating the framework for a two-day workshop on diversity and inclusion with Jonathan Zur and Ali Thompson of the Virginia Center for Inclusive Communities; I was joined by my sometime facilitation partner, Matthew Freeman, who also does facilitation work focused on racial identity, diversity and inclusion. All three of them are experts on the history, psychology and institutional challenges that sit deep within diversity and inclusion work. That meant my best work would be focused around my own strengths in program design and the facilitation of group conversations. In the end, I think we created the framework for a strong experience for a group of community leaders who—collectively, at least—had no clear sense of what it might mean to have “courageous conversations” or to “go beneath the waterline” or truly understand how all the components of their individual identity might serve to build them up in the community, or to hold them back. We began with one of my favorite community conversation starters — a gigantic map of the Richmond region, a simple 10 foot by 15 foot geographical overview of where we live. Participants were asked to answer three questions on different colored Post-In notes. The first question was, “Where do you live?” The second asked participants to identify one location or place in Richmond to which they felt an emotional connection. The third question asked them to name a location or place that everyone visiting the region should see or experience. We had them place their orange, green and yellow Post-It notes on the map, and then we raised it up to the ceiling and started to talk. Geography is a common denominator in Richmond. It is what we all have in common. It also serves to keep us apart, to reinforce stereotypes and to paralyze many regional conversations. It wasn't long before the conversation about geography turned into a discussion about racial identity, and that was where the discussion stayed for most of the first day. The conversation and learning focused on the cycle of prejudice, which plays out across issues of race, gender, sexual orientation. Using an interactive polling technology that allows audience members to use electronic keypads to instantly and anonymously respond to questions, Matthew created a real-time discussion about how identity and diversity played out within the LMR class. (Learn more about how audience response keypads can augment small group dialogue here.) Over the span of two days, participants also explored their own personal timelines related to their identity; participated in a range of small and large group conversations; and began to identify new ways to frame their community work. Helping groups of people move through hard conversations isn't new work for me, but having the expertise, emotional energy and skills that Matthew, Jonathan and Ali brought into the room made a huge difference. The end result was a rich, significant and deeply exhausting experience for everyone in the room. I learned as much as the participants from my fellow facilitators, and heard powerful and personal stories from residents of the Richmond region about ways in which their identity -- racial, cultural, socio-economic, gender -- surfaced every single day in ways positive and negative. Moving community conversations into uncomfortable terrain is important work, and Richmond should be proud that organizations like LMR and individuals like Matthew, Ali and Jonathan are helping to lead the charge.
Thankful for Something of My Own
During the season finale of "Mad Men," Don Draper blurted out, "I want to build something of my own. How do you not understand that?" By the end of the show, Don and a small crew from the ad firm had jumped ship and started a new firm. That's not exactly how things went down last November, but a year ago this month wheels were set into motion that churned slowly and certainly into something called Floricane. Oddly enough, the last thing that crossed my mind when I walked out of Luck Stone Corporation last November was starting my own business. And, yet, here I am. A year ago, I'm not sure I would have understood Don. Today, I do. I've spent the better part of a year doing something I love -- building something of my own. But I didn't do it alone. No, the pretty stellar thing about this past year has been -- quite simply -- how much of a case study in collaboration it has become. I think that's the real beauty of venturing into new territory -- the very real possibility that you might discover something much more amazing than you originally anticipated. I knew I would have fun building a business. I didn't realize how much fun it would be. I knew I would learn a lot along the way. I didn't quite get how much there was to learn (and remains to be learned). I suspected that there would be challenges. I didn't anticipate how difficult some of them would be to overcome. I anticipated that I would meet new people. How could I ever have foreseen the number of new friends I would make? Entering a busy Thanksgiving weekend -- one with more than a few hours set aside for business -- I am most thankful to have had this opportunity to build "something of my own" and for the help of so many phenomenal people along the way. Because without them, what I've managed to cobble together would be far less.
Voiceless, and Paying A Different Sort of Attention
Those of you who know me will have some appreciation (or apprehension) of this little tidbit: I have been silent for more than 24 hours. My throat ache began on Friday, and our family spent much of the weekend feeling varying degrees of feverish, miserable and fine. Thea mostly felt fine, which isexactly how you want your high-energy toddler to feel when the rest of the family is under the weather. Tuesday morning, I had a series of highly talkative meetings. I knew going into my first meeting that I was going to lose my voice. I could feel it. By the time I got to my last meeting of the day, I was flagging. My voice was breaking, kicking in and out. This morning, I went to the doctor. Her orders: No talking, no whispering. Indefinitely. Apparently, I'll be able to tell when it's time to talk again -- which is interesting, because it took me 40 years to learn when to shut up. But the lesson is this: Silence, even medically imposed silence, changes communication. I don't think I'm listening differently, but I have been paying a lot more attention -- to people around me, to different ways I can connect and communicate without my voice. Nikole left me alone with Thea for an hour this evening while she ran errands. I admittedly couldn't avoid speaking, even in strained whispers, but for most of that hour we played together quietly. There was more, or more of a different, connection. What if we all practiced periods of disconnection from our sense, forcing ourselves intentionally into spaces where we have to pay different attention? Thanksgiving dinner with the in-laws sure will be interesting.
The James House Plan Approved; Lessons Learned
Last night, the board of The James House (TJH) officially approved the strategic plan we developed over the course of the past seven months. But it's not the end of my journey with the Hopewell-based nonprofit focused on providing services to those affected by sexual or domestic violence; in fact,the hard work is yet to come.Last night, the board of The James House (TJH) officially approved the strategic plan we developed over the course of the past seven months. But it's not the end of my journey with the Hopewell-based nonprofit focused on providing services to those affected by sexual or domestic violence; in fact, the hard work is yet to come. Thanks to the forward-thinking (and generous) approach of The Cameron Foundation, which has funded my work with TJH since April, I'll spend the next year helping the board and staff of TJH implement the plan. I could pretend that I designe d and delivered the perfect strategic process for The James House, but the reality is that this was the first strategic process I have managed from start to finish. And while the board and I feel that the final strategic plan is a solid and ambitious road map for the organization, I stumbled a few t imes along the way, and I missed some important opportunities. The good news is two-fold: The James House has a good plan to guide their growth over the next 2-5 years, and I learned a raft of lessons that are already helping me to implement better strategic processes for other Floricane clients. The Plan One of the most exciting aspects of the planning process for me was the willingness of The James House to take some time to step back and look at the big picture. The organization does important work in the human services arena and serves residents of eight cities and counties in south-central Virginia -- a region facing significant growth with the expansion of Fort Lee, and other demographic trends. Three of the most important aspects of the plan involve the board of TJH, the organization's future development/fundraising needs, and the role of the staff in the plan's development and implementation. The James House has been around for several decades, but it has just been in the last seven years or so that it has reached a level of service, stewardship and competency to be seen as a professional and reliable resource for individuals affected by the trauma of sexual or domestic violence. The board that helped move TJH forward in recent years has been committed to the mission, but in need of a strategic vision, clearer roles and expectations for its members, and new members. During the first six months of 2010, one of our primary strategic tasks will involve the creation of a larger board that is ready to take the lead on strategy, governance and fundraising. But the board recognizes it can't do it alone. Which is why we're also focusing in the near-term on funding, finding and hiring a new development director who can play an active role in supporting the board's fundraising work; strengthening relationships with key donors, businesses and community leaders across the eight service areas; and doubling up on the organization's already aggressive grant-writing efforts. And it's why the staff has been involved in the process from the get-go. And why the staff will be partnering with the board as we work to implement key strategic outcomes. A final, personal and and important note on the process: I didn't do it alone. It wasn't just the staff and board of The James House who helped get this plan to the finish line. One of the most important players in the process has been Kristen Kaplan, a Richmond-based consultant (and one of the founders of Hands On Greater Richmond). Kristen not only provided me with some much-needed guidance and confidence early on, but she provided great perspective throughout the planning process. Oh, she also pretty much single handedly research and wrote the development portion of the plan. I really would have struggled without her support and expertise. The Lessons Without going into great detail, the lessons I learned in this process have been significant. I'll bullet a few key learnings below: * I don't do my best work alone. Former coworkers, pick yourselves off the floor. I get it for real now. Being a consultant is inherently lonely work. The smartest decision I made early on was to recruit smart people to partner with me where possible. I couldn't have found a better partner for this project than Kristen. In addition to everything described above, Kristen kept me accountable. And she served as an important reminder of what it feels like to work with someone I like, trust and respect. * Pacing and scheduling are important. The smartest thing I did with The James House work was create a block of time I called the "discovery phase" of the project. It involved research, an assessment of board and staff perspectives, and one-on-one discussions with each board and staff member. But because we didn't schedule key blocks of work in advance, we lost a lot of ground when that process moved to its conclusion and we couldn't schedule the second phase. This stop/go process continued throughout the summer, and it was largely a result of my poor planning on the scheduling front. * Research, research, research. Yes, Kristen did a ton of research. I should have done more, and I should have done it in the first month. Reading through existing documents, delving into demographic and other regional research, meeting with other external stakeholders -- all critical work that I didn't focus on soon enough. It didn't sandbag the process, but I think the plan would have been significantly better if I had spent more time on the front-end really learning the nuts-and-bolts of the organization and the communities it served. That all said, the plan is done and implementation has started. I'll be meeting with a team from the board in a few weeks to matrix out a work plan for the strategic recommendations, and we'll get rolling. The James House was my first long-term client under the Floricane banner, and I'm excited to continue building on a great working relationship.
Evening at Morton’s - The Nonprofit Challenge
If there's one word that defines the state of the nonprofit community as we move into 2010, it might well be "challenge".If there's one word that defines the state of the nonprofit community as we move into 2010, it might well be "challenge". On Wednesday, October 21, I'll be sitting down with theleaders of six of Richmond's nonprofit organizations to talk about a range of issues facing their organizations. The leaders at the table will be: * Reggie Gordon, Red Cross * Sherrie Brach, United Way * Lynne Washington, Peter Paul Development Center * Jeanine Harper, Greater Richmond SCAN * Robert Bolling, William Byrd Community House * Mary Lou Decoussaux, Neighborhood Resource Center The special Evening at Morton's discussion will be held at Morton's the Steakhouse in downtown Richmond, and while the dinner itself will be a closed event the conversation will take full advantage of technology -- it will be live blogged by Tony Scida of The Hodges Partnership, live tweeted by Trevor Dickerson of the popular Downtown Short Pump community news site, and audio recorded and made available after the event. My job is to keep the conversation lively and engaging -- not that I'll need to do much once the six participants get started! This is the third Evening at Morton's event of 2009 -- the first two focused on sports in Richmond and on arts and culture. The series is a co-production of The Hodges Partnership and Morton's the Steakhouse.
Speaking to Communicators About Strategy, Social Media
I had a rare opportunity to speak for well over an hour yesterday about anything I wanted!I had a rare opportunity to speak for well over an hour yesterday about anything I wanted! Responding to an invitation by the Virginia Government Communicators to speak at their fall conference was the easy part -- coming up with something relevant to speak about was more challenging. The focus of the conference was social media, and I certainly have stories to tell from a decade of blogging and my full use of social media tools to promote and brand my business. But I also wanted to speak about what I t hink sits at the heart of effective social media -- good communication skills, strong relationships, and a genuine desire to learn from your audience. I used my storied past as a vehicle to frame the conversation -- a job-by-job examination of how social media tools (starting with email in 1992 and continuing onward to today's Era of Twitter) have collided with traditional communication practices. I saw it at the Times-Dispatch as a reporter and at VCU as an editor almost two decades ago, and the collisions continued at Circuit City and at Luck Stone. But the learning in every instance was huge, and that was the point I tried to make. All of that -- along with my experiences with Buttermilk and Molasses and a rampant Twitter presence -- brought me to the heart of my presentation. Yes, another set of Five Lessons: * The conversation is the change. People want to connect with other people. Social media is a conduit to bring your communities closer together. * While we engage and measure our activity in moments, the power of effective social media happens over time. It is effective when it is rooted in narrative and has real context. * Understanding the stories that matter to your community is your most important job. Creating new stories that give your community more connection is your second most important job. * Think of your social media activity like the serial novels of the 1800s -- your most passionate readers should be standing at the docks waiting for each installment. There is an emphasis on the word installment for a reason. * Each moment matters. This takes time. You’ll make mistakes. People won’t understand. You’ll get lazy. Distractions happen. You’ll get bored. Your readers will get bored. Social media is just another way of being in relationship with other people.??Accept the ebb and the flow. Better yet, embrace it. I don't think anything I mapped out was rocket science, and all of it started with strong advice to figure out your organization's strategy (and mission, and values and vision) before you dive into the social media forest. But I think the group valued hearing some common sense perspectives on navigating what can feel like an overwhelming and confusing space to even the most practiced. Yesterday was the third speaking engagement of the month. Next week, I'll be speaking with 100 individuals in the midst of career transition -- we'll focus on our personal beliefs, core values, and the impact of our choices. I'll also meet with a group of nonprofit executives and professionals as a guest speaker for a two-day class on social media that Sarah Milston is delivering for VCU's Nonprofit Learning Point.
I Threw a Hootenanny
Way back in March, I sent out an invitation to a few hundred people to participate in something I called "A Grassroots Conversation About Richmond's Possibilities". Which is how almost 30 people -- some of whom I knew well, and a few not at all -- came together at the University of Richmond's new downtown facility to talk about ourselves, and our sense of Richmond's future. One participant, Angela Lehman, wrote a few words about it on her blog, The People's Snob. Here's what she had to say:
Metaphorically speaking, a hootenanny is what I went to last night. About 30 people gathered for a guided "grassroots conversation" about Richmond and its future. I was one of perhaps 4 or 5 people who did not personally know the organizer and leader, blogger John Sarvay (sultan of consultin' with his business, Floricane). We moved among small, random groups and discussed the ways in which each of us and Richmond were alter egos of each others. Hmmm... well, not really. But it was all rather abstract and subjective, with no clear purpose. Or, rather: no measurable purpose. I think most everyone who attended was challenged (challenged themselves) to act on whatever intersection of self and city they discovered. For instance, one mother of a young child wants to send him to the local public elementary school, at which most students come from low-income homes. She has already joined the PTA, but now wonders how to reach out to neighborhood parents who probably will send their children to private schools or apply through open enrollment to other public schools. This reaching out requires an extraordinary level of energy and bravery (one which I wasn't able to muster). Throughout the evening, I was reminded that personal, passionate actions count, no matter how small. One (white) man goes to (black) Mosby Court every Sunday afternoon with a friend and spends a few hours shooting hoops, or talking, or passing time. He said, "I had to learn that this wasn't about looking for results." Yet he is hopeful--certain--that his actions will have positive future consequences. But back to the hootenanny metaphor: Pete Seeger helps people see that when they sing together--joyfully, un-self-consciously--they don't need to be afraid of being quiet, raspy, loud or out-of-tune. And then it's very easy to transfer this confidence into action. Last evening, as we were all talking to (not at) each other about a city we all love, I felt in myself the growth of the same kind of confidence. Speaking for myself only, I'm not sure what, or when or even if, action will result from the conversations. But I believe these talkin' hootenannies are important to have.
Angela's thoughts are important. And they echo a very powerful belief I have about civic conversations -- that bringing people together with intention but no specific expectation is essential for community to develop or strengthen. Gatherings need intention. Who is in the room, and why they were invited, and why they accepted the invitation matters. Having a design that invites meaningful discussion is important. And letting the group go where it needs to go is essential. Which means that expectations are created in the moment -- by the people in the room.
Live Blogging “An Evening at Morton’s”
On Tuesday, April 21, Floricane will be joining Josh Dare of The Hodges Partnership and AnnMarie Grohs of Morton's the Steakhouse in presenting the first of what we hope will be a continuing series of discussions about Richmond. The premiere "An Evening at Morton's" is a casual dinner discussion between four Richmonders -- live blogged and audio recorded to share with a broader audience, and facilitated by Josh Dare. Floricane's role in the event is two-fold. I worked closely with The Hodges Partnership, specifically Josh, Julia Webster and Steve Cummings, to brainstorm ways to turn a no budg et idea into a game-changing conversation. And I'll be lending my blogging expertise to blog and "tweet" the event live as it happens Tuesday evening. Beginning at 6:00 Tuesday evening, online participants can submit questions and follow the conversation as it happens at The Hodges Partnership website. I'll also attempt to "tweet" the event simultaneously on Twitter at @sarvay. An audio recording of the event will be made available at The Hodges Partnership website after the event. So, what's the event? Answers to a simple question -- Is Richmond a good sports town?The first "An Evening at Morton's" event will bring together Times-Dispatch sports columnist Paul Woody; ESPN 950 talk show host Greg Burton; Scott Schricker of Richmond Sports Backers; and Robert Dortch, president of U-Turn Sports Performance Academy. What fascinates me most about this initiative is its evolution. It began more than a year ago when the Richmond Morton's location co-hosted an emerging leaders discussion on the James River. The discussion was an effort by Morton's to be more engaged in civic issues. It was also, quite honestly, an attempt by Morton's to market itself to a younger generation that might be inclined to bring business clients or out-of-town guests to Morton's. Josh and Julia and I had talked intermittently about how that old program, which lost its community sponsor, might be resurrected on a shoestring budget. Our original idea included a slightly larger group being videotaped -- I was thinking a good producer and editor could turn the over-dinner conversation into an ideal local series for WCVE. Then I discovered that the budget wasn't $13,000 per dinner, but somewhere closer to $500. Which took us back to the Internet as the primary vehicle. For now. In my mind, this could turn "An Evening at Morton's" into a model way to bring small groups of subject matter experts together for a spirited conversation that is then broadcast to a broader community audience -- on the Internet, and by radio and television. Two more events like Tuesdays are planned. Sessions in July and October will focus on the arts and the nonprofit community in Richmond. Don't forget to "listen in" this Tuesday, beginning at The Hodges Partnership website or on Twitter at @sarvay. An audio recording of the event will be made available at The Hodges Partnership website after the event.