Basketball Illuminates the Individual v Team Leadership Rift

I first learned about the importance of self-awareness, supporting the success of others, and the fine balance between individual leadership and team performance from a guy named Guy. A Texan, Guy Clumpner pushed all of my buttons initially -- perhaps he was telling me more about myself than I wanted to hear at the time -- but the work he, and others, had done transforming team cultures in San Antonio was illuminating. Guy works for the original Caterpillar equipment dealer, Holt Caterpillar, a family-owned business. The family also owns the San Antonion Spurs.

Both teams -- Holt Caterpillar and the Spurs -- have spent an inordinate amount of time and energy focusing on the leadership lessons of Ken Blanchard and the importance of values-based leadership. This morning, NPR sports commentator Frank DeFord talked about what makes the Spurs so simultaneously exceptional and forgettable.

"In basketball, as in life, we may dutifully celebrate the aggregate, but we're always spellbound by the exceptional," says Frank Deford.

The Spurs have won four titles, and may be on their way to a fifth. They've become the fourth most successful franchise through exceptional teamwork and solid understated performances. I suspect their exposure to effective team and leadership practices has been as important as their ball-handling.

Seven Brainstorming Lessons (by Carlee)

Just last week Caroline and I were tasked with creating a video for the Summer of Self-Discovery series.  Creating this video was one experience full of many insightful takeaways, some lessons more profound than others.

As we jumped into the task, there may or may not have been looks of uncertainty passed between us as we wondered what kind of video we would be able create in one day.  These looks quickly turned to looks of excitement as we started brainstorming and thinking of idea after idea.    

We dreamed.  We sketched.  We scoured the office for props. 

Lesson #1: Two brains are better than one

Lesson #2: No idea is a completely bad idea

Our incredibly brilliant idea of taping ourselves writing on the whiteboard, full of high fives and amazing shots of the back of our heads quickly came to a halt when we realized there were no dry erase markers to be found. 

Lesson #3: Always have dry erase markers on hand

Never fear, Caroline and I changed course, found a large roll of white paper, and went to work on our new vision.  Since our materials were now a bit more permanent than dry erase markers, we knew we had to be a one-take wonder. 

We went to work.   As we wrote out our message, added flair with glitter, and laughed at the process, our excitement for the idea began to fade.  We looked at each other and both felt that this was not working.  The vision of how our idea would play out was not playing out the way we imagined.  Our great idea was less than great.  {If 1E was full of sound effects, we would have heard a nice  “womp womp” in the background}

Lesson #4: Sometimes you can’t see the beauty through the mess

Lesson #5: Glitter makes everything better, even when it gets cut from the video.

We tried a few other takes and finally Caroline uttered the words I had been dreading: “Carlee, you’re going to have to be on camera.”

Well, what’s an intern to do except take one for the team. What felt like 4 very awkward takes later, Caroline released me. 

I left Caroline with tons of footage.  This footage may have been very questionable, but it was footage nonetheless.

Fast forward to Sunday night.  I see the video, and it’s amazing.  

I had no idea the magic that Caroline had up her sleeve. She managed to take a mess of disjointed, possibly unusable footage and turned it into an amazing video.  And as amazed as I am at her editing skills, I am also thankful my scenes made the cutting room floor.  (I’ll pay you later, Caroline)

Lesson #4: Trust the process

Lesson # 5: Sometimes the mess IS the beauty. It’s there you will find the happy accidents.

In the end, I think it’s safe to say that we both learned that risks can pay off.  And my final lesson:  if all else fails, laugh at the blooper reel.

A Time To Play (by Carlee)

Before I walked into 1E to begin my internship with Floricane, and even before I walked the hollowed grounds of Vanderbilt’s Peabody College as a graduatestudent, I walked the colorful halls of a children’s hospital.  I was given the privilege and honor of working with patients and volunteers.  In my department in the children’s hospital, we lived in a world that played.  

Yes, I was paid to play. 

We played to build relationships with patients.  We played with toy medical equipment to help patients learn about the new things they would see and experience.  We played to help kids express themselves.  We played to help reduce the stress of the hospital. 

And sometimes we played to, well, play. 

A catch phrase we often used was “Play is the language of children.” 

So imagine my surprise and delight when this familiar language reappeared at Floricane.

In graduate school, we rarely talk about play, and I surely didn’t expect it in my internship.  But sure enough, when talking with John about my goals for the summer, he invited me to “play in this space.” 

This may have been the first time, but I doubt will be the last time, I hear this language used.  I don’t have to look much further than the brightly colored walls, the Legos sitting as desk ornaments, the chalkboard painted flower vases, or sharpies or colored pencils galore to know that this is environment that supports play. 

What a great opportunity I’ve been given to learn, explore, take risks, and try new things all in this safe and positive space. 

Play may be the language of children, but I think while I explore this new world of Floricane, I’m going to speak that language too.

Write the Future

I spent an hour of my weekend listening to Bono chatting with Charlie Rose. It was an hour well-spent. Toward the end, he mentioned guitarist Nile Rodgers, who got his start playing with the Sesame Street Band and went on to form the band Chic, produce albums with a huge array of musical luminaries, and write tons of music. Here's what Bono said:

"He came from a rough place, and when he wrote "Good Times" or "We Are Family" it wasn't that it was where he came from -- he wrote the future he wanted to live. He wrote so that he could have those good times."

So, what future are you writing?

11 Lessons from a Facilitation Marathon

And then there are the weeks when you barely even come up for breath, when it’s client engagement after event after workshop. That was the caserecently when I glanced up to see the calendar for the week was almost completely booked with solid blocks of activity.

We started with a team alignment session in Williamsburg with the emergency department leadership at Bon Secours’ Memorial Regional Medical Center, followed by a te am retreat with the staff of the Virginia Poverty Law Center. Midweek found our team huddled with a project group representing the Virginia Society of the American Institute of Architects. We wrapped the week with a workshop on leadership for a large group of board and staff leaders with the Virginia Society of CPAs.

In the moment, the lessons that bubble up from intense back-to-back work feel ephemeral. As breathing space emerges, however, so do the lessons.

Here are 11 things I learned, relearned, or affirmed during our busy mid-May marathon:

  1. Emergency department physicians deal with team alignment issues in exactly the way you’d expect – diagnosis is quickly followed by treatment and action. It wasn’t surprising that we ended our day early. And with a plan.
  2. Very early morning meetings are the worst. But they’re not as bad as a very early meeting + a one hour commute.
  3. It’s great to engage with new clients. Work with new groups is laden with new discoveries, and opportunities to be curious about entirely new areas.
  4. It’s great to reconnect with long-time clients.  Working with people we know is comfortable, familiar and fun. Planned well, it is not rote!
  5. All meetings should be held at the Roslyn Retreat Center overlooking the James River, especially on sunny, spring days. If Roslyn’s not an option, meetings should take place in any 500 square feet of the 54,000 square foot Branch House.
  6. Never underestimate the value of an extra mind. Having a thought partner at the table makes breaks productive, and helps our facilitation keep up with changing group dynamics.
  7. Never underestimate the value of an extra set of hands. Collecting 200+ Sharpie markers, Post-It Notes and more than 800 Insights Discovery playing cards is hard to do in 15 minutes. Even with help.
  8. You cannot get any other work done easily on weeks you are facilitating for 35 hours. Or plan the dinner menu for your family.
  9. Accountants are pretty smart.
  1. The answers are already in the room, and the best facilitation happens when we let our clients answer their own questions.
  2. One of the best aspects of our work is the variety – of relationships, of experiences, of learning, of engagements.

Playground Perspectives: Now We’re Cooking

One of my new favorite activities is cooking dinner. By which I mean, one of my all-time favorite activities has just gotten more interesting.

It turns out my daughter likes to cook with me.

Part of it, I'm convinced, is the opportunity to eat half of her dinner before it even makes it to the table. There's also a small sliver there of just enjoying doing things with me, her dad.

Oddly enough, her palate has expanded as our culinary journey has progressed. By which I mean she likes the idea of more foods than before. It's a start.
Her favorite things to cook right now are stir fry and pizza. Stir fry is attractive to her because she likes to eat red pepper, carrot, green beans and snow peas raw. Pizza? Well, you get to toss the dough. And write your name in red pepper strips on mom and dad's pizza.

At the end of a busy day, it is hard to slow down enough to make this successful for both of us. (I want to fix dinner and eat. She wants to learn how to fix dinner. I can work faster alone. She wants to work with me. I'm in a hurry. She's not.)

I remember as a kid sitting patiently with my father as he worked on one project or another, never allowed to do much more than pass him an occasional nail. Some combination of his need for perfection and control and my own awkward inability to ask to help colluded to keep us from working together when I was young.

I see the same dynamic in the workplace - mine and yours both.

Ask my team how often they find me cooking alone. (Too often.) Ask yourself how often you cook alone.

Here's an exercise for you: Skim through your own day and see what percentage of your busy time was spent teaching someone else. Look around your organization and catalogue all the ways it encourages people to collaborate. Now, do more.

Being a mentor, a partner, a cooking companion to my daughter adds depth, flavor, opportunity and relationship to her day. Granted, it's my job. And it's something I value deeply and do without much fuss. (Usually.)

But it's also my job to be available to my team, to our intern, and to be a teaching partner, and a learning partner, with our clients. It's all part of my job description. How about yours?

April 2013: Letter from John

I spend most of my waking life telling clients that feedback is just data, just information -- and they should embrace opportunities to hear and act on it. But I am not so unlike the rest of you. Feedback makes me anxious! I often find myself working to avoid it. Or having mild emotional meltdowns when I receive it.

This was reinforced a few weeks ago when two pieces of feedback consumed my attention -- a stakeholder survey for Floricane and feedback on a lunchtime presentation I did in March for the Virginia Society of Association Executives.

Let's go wi th the "feedback is just data" idea for a minute. The data was good! Hundreds of people told us what they thought. (See below in the newsletter for details.)

People told us that they generally like Floricane and the work we do, and gave us good feedback on ways to be better at what we do. Here's a taste about what Floricane does that stands out: "Think differently. Have opinions. Say what's right. Do right things. Look like you're having fun even if you're not always. Initiate." Score!

The lunchtime crowd at the VSAE event had very kind things to say about my casual style, my use of humor, my transparency and the content of the presentation I delivered on leadership. One perspective: "John's information and his style were excellent. I was most impressed by how authentic he seemed. I would welcome hearing him again." FTW!

Oh, but the devil, my friends, lives right in the briar patch of the details.

I wonder what other words people used to describe Floricane? Let's dig deeper. "Disappointing." Cue me getting hijacked.

How about another take on that presentation? "His program started off like an infomercial." Ouch.

Feedback is awesome. Until it cuts to the bone.

My reaction to feedback always brings to mind one sentence from my very first Insights Discovery personality assessment -- "He dislikes being criticized by others as he is already burdened by his inner voice of self-judgment." Preach on, Insights.

It also surfaces words of wisdom from the late Charles Seashore, one of the greats in organizational behavior. "Feedback," Charles told me in 2007, "tells you as much about the giver as it does about the receiver."

That said, it's important to listen to feedback. In both of these cases, I am the receiver, not the giver, and I have a choice -- to listen, or not. Acting on feedback often is less important than clearly hearing and internalizing it.

The truth is, I have left clients disappointed. More than once. And I know I'm prone to talking too much about my experiences. This recent feedback is a reminder of both facts -- and a call for me, and for the Floricane team, to do better.

"Change is inevitable. Growth is optional." That was the first slide in my VSAE presentation. It was followed by a picture of Charlie Brown saying, "This is going to take more than one night."

It's perfectly normal to have mixed feelings about feedback. It's a bit harder to treat it like a gift. But people complain about (and applaud for) things that matter to them. If I listen clearly, I get to make choices about how I grow, and to what degree that growth is in response to people who matter to me.

Charlie Brown has it right. This is going to take more than one night. This journey is going to take the rest of my life.