Collaborating = Fighting (That’s Fine)

Collaboration means sometimes getting stepped on. The more collaborators there are, the bigger the crowd of feet. Getting stepped on is the worst.

She changed the program and didn’t tell you.

He rearranged the space without asking.

They overlooked you in the decisions about set up.

Two things feel important when collaborators step on you, and those are to affirm the value of the work they are trying to do while also asserting the importance of your project. Because collaborations are often at the organizational level, team members pursuing the same goals work on separate projects and call upon the same resources, which is an unavoidable conflict and a sign of organizational vitality (would we rather nobody needed the space?). Even though you are exceedingly considerate, even though you submit room requests on time, things break inexplicably against the priorities of your project.

Take a breath. Prize one-on-one conversations in the service of understanding the values behind the decision, and affirm those values. Then fight like Hell for your project.

Fight fair, of course. Don’t cast aspersions on peoples’ commitment and convictions; don’t yell; don’t trash talk. But make the case.

Richard Schiff used to fight over the script with Tommy Schlamme on the set of The West Wing (start at the 14 minute mark). He started to feel bad about causing conflict, so he quit fighting. One day, Schlamme came to him and pleaded with him to get back in the ring. “I miss our fights,” he told Schiff. “I learn more about what we do and what we’re doing by you challenging me. If you stop, I’m not going to be as good.”

By fighting for your project with your collaborators, you can facilitate learning in the organization. Nobody is served by you rolling over.

 

 

Stop Demanding Something “New”

There’s nothing new or different about the appeal of the new and the different. If the status quo is unacceptable, the answer is not novelty but improvement–concrete, measurable improvement guided by compelling values.

New isn’t better, just new. Diverse is better. Experienced is better. Principled is better.

Let’s choose for those criteria.

You’re Not That Great. You’re Not That Bad Either

In the stories you tell about your goings on in the world, are you the villain or the hero? Some people’s repertoires are filled with tales of idiots endured and fools set right, while others’ recite litanies of failure with an unrelenting voice of self-depreciation.

We’re not as great or as ghastly as we’re tempted to put it to others, and we’re not doing ourselves any favors by perpetually casting ourselves in these roles. If the narrative arc of everything you recount proceeds from some moron wreaking havoc to you with a one-liner that saves the day, I don’t believe you. If you’re always the moron, I don’t trust you. I pity you, but I don’t trust you.

Let’s pay attention to the trends in our stories and protect against the contrasting faults both of exaggerating our effectiveness and amplifying our failures.

Here’s To Meredith Clayton

Work that matters demands difficult choices: this opportunity or that one? More formal education or less? Family or job first right now? Tomorrow?

Today is Meredith Clayton’s last day at Kaiser Permanente, the medical practice where she has worked as a full time pediatrician since 2010. For six years she has cared for a census of patients in two different clinics. For four years she has invested in the practice as a partner. Flu season in and flu season out, Meredith has thrown herself into caring for children and teenagers (and, just as often, their anxious and demanding parents)–vaccinating them, diagnosing them, listening to them, filling out their forms, conducting their school physicals–all while raising a daughter and supporting a spouse with his own full time career.

She’s choosing to leave that practice today for an uncertain professional future, because I followed an opportunity to Chicago. For the first time since her parents took her and her siblings to France at age four, Meredith is moving for something other than the dictates of her calling: college, medical school, clinical rotations, residency, second residency, job. It’s not by-the-book, and it’s not at all easy, and I’ve been slow to recognize the bravery in it.

Her colleagues have wished her well while questioning her sense with befuddled muttering about weather and rather less befuddled muttering about income; it’s clear she’s going to earn less, and there simply is no other medical provider like the one where she’s working now.

Nobody is expected to do what Meredith is doing. It’s something a person has to choose, and that choice is tortured by doubt, anxiety, love, and devotion. My gratitude for Meredith’s choice is a pittance. My resolve to honor her choice by excelling in this opportunity and finding us a thriving footing will only go so far.

Meredith’s commitment is of the type that shapes a person, a career, a marriage. These are so weighted with uncertainty, so brimming with promise, so mixed up with guilt and conviction. The contradiction of it all is more than a person can bear most days. But to be without that contradiction is not the path she chose (and re-chose, and is choosing again). Today that path deposits her at a turning point she wasn’t seeking and prods her to answer questions she hasn’t been asking.

It may work out beautifully for her career. And yet, it may not.

This is not a time for a pep talk. I thought it was, so I’ve been giving one for months. It’s peppered with language of “possibility” and draws deeply from a spring long tapped by the Tony Robbinses of the world.

Enough of that. Today feels like a moment to take off my hat and observe the dignity of Meredith’s work and choices, and to admit that I don’t have the power to engineer the perfect outcome. I can only receive her accompaniment as a gift, and then work and pray for her flourishing in this next chapter.

And so I do. Here’s to Meredith Clayton.

 

Blog Posts Shouldn’t Exceed 500 Words

Yesterday I wrote about blogs, my favorite reading tool for them as well as a few of my favorite reads. Today: the best blog posts.

A blog post is a particular product that has advantages and constraints unique to it. It’s easy, easy, easy to publish, whether you’re using a free wordpress.com or blogspot.com site, Tumblr, Medium, or hosting it yourself. After your initial set up, you can literally publish anything you want in a matter of minutes. That’s the advantage.

The constraint  is that it’s online. That’s where people will read it, so it has to follow online reading rules, the first of which is Keep It Short. I can’t stick with posts that are longer than about 500 words, no matter who’s written them. You could do a lot worse than Murphy’s, for starters. Libby, too, does this really well. Jan is the best at it.

There’s a world of permission in 300-500 words.

I’ll add a second rule: don’t cross-post stuff. I want to read an insight or observation you have tailored for this medium, today, not the thing you wrote for some other occasion and are just pasting in the blog composer now. Link to that other thing (please!).

Other readers will have different criteria for a blog post they want to read. These are mine.

Seth Godin Wants You To Read More Blogs. Here’s How.

I read blogs. This one is my favorite.

Many of my friends have blogs that I read. The first three of my friends’ blogs in my feed this morning are this one and this one and this one. People I’ll never meet write terrific blogs I follow, too, like this one by a venture capitalist and this one by a Canadien obesity medicine doctor.

The best blogs publish regular content exploring something the author cares about. It’s that simple.

Today’s post is about blogs.

Seth wants you to read more blogs. He reads 50 a day. Okay. But how? And which ones?

Google Reader used to be the go-to way to find and subscribe to lots of blogs, but Google shut that service down a few years ago, leaving a gaping hole in peoples’ reading habits. Feedly sort of popped up to take Google Reader’s place, and it’s a terrific little service; it works on desktop and mobile, has an attractive interface, and makes subscribing easy. There are web browser extensions that make it even better.

There’s also Blogtrottr. This one takes a bit more work, since you have to go to the website and drop in the url of the blog you want to follow. But once you’ve done that the service sends all that blog’s content to your email inbox on a schedule you choose (immediately, once a day, etc.). It works with many websites, even ones that aren’t blogs, strictly speaking.

WordPress is my favorite blog reading tool, though. I like that posts are displayed in a nice size and that any graphics in them display right on the feed. Most of the time you can read entire posts without having to click to an external site. It’s not perfect, though. It actually succeeds at fewer feed subscriptions that either Blogtrottr or Feedly; some sites you want to subscribe to, like Vox, it can’t find the feed.

So here’s my resolution: to read blogs. Doing that will require trimming my subscription list of sites that aren’t blogs. You can visit a website like Vox easily enough, because it’s ubiquitous and publishes to lots of channels. But the best blogs do one thing really well, which is to share actionable takes on subjects the blogger cares about.

I want more of that.

Working In A Helping Profession Has Profoundly Personal Benefits

Daughter is home and recovering from a skull fracture, concussion, and seizure. She got tremendous care at the Pediatric Intensive Care unit at Kaiser Permanente in Fontana, and we have several weeks ahead of us of severely curtailed physical activity (so no more of this for awhile) and lots of headaches.

Today’s post is about people who care for people.

Meredith (my wife) and I both chose caring professions that are simultaneously exhausting and fulfilling. These past 36 hours have unleashed upon us the personal benefits of working jobs in which your colleagues are caregivers.

Pastors I used to work with were my first calls after the accident. Karen arrived at the ER almost as soon as Meredith did. Krista came soon after, and she stayed with Meredith through Daughter’s transfer to the PICU 15 miles away, took our car home for us, retrieved clean clothes for Daughter, and then maintained a constant presence with Meredith and Daughter until I arrived around noon yesterday. All told that’s nearly 15 uninterrupted hours of caring for my family. I’ll never pay for the value of that.

It drastically improves my feelings about the state of the church to be on the receiving end of the kind of pastoral care that Karen and Krista provided and that I know pastors everywhere are providing all the time.

Another colleague, Reece, showed up at the hospital unbidden with sandwiches for Meredith and I. He even brought two of his kids with him. If your dad is Reece Lemmon, and he takes you with him on a holiday to deliver sandwiches to a colleague’s family in the hospital, you’re being raised right. Those sandwiches were worth far more than Reece paid for them.

My wife has a colleague who came too. He drove over 20 miles on a Sunday night to be with her in the ER, and he provided important counsel that helped Meredith insist on the PICU transfer, which the ER did not want to do. Here’s to Chuey.

When you work in a helping profession you spend the bulk of your hours and energy alongside colleagues who know how to care for people, who do it for a living, like you do. When, unexpectedly, you need some of that care, your colleagues may be the first to provide it.

 

 

 

I’m So Grateful For My People

My daughter was leaning in close to the iPad screen for our video call, putting all her weight on her table topping forearms when her balance shifted backward and gravity took over. She slid off the table in an instant and out of my view.

She’s always doing this. Falling down. What follows is an half-embarrassed, half-pleased-with-herself grin. But several seconds passed and she didn’t come back onto the screen. Her mother called to her from across the room and she didn’t respond. It was only when she came close that my wife detected that something wasn’t right. She started screaming for me to call 911.

That was four hours ago. Daughter is okay; she fractured her skull, but it’s not a displaced fracture and there is no bleeding. I’m on the first plane to her in the morning, hoping to outrun the sound of her mother’s screaming and the crushing weight of helplessness that hangs onto you when your child is injured miles away from you. It’s what I fell I need to do.

Apart from me, though, practically dozens of people have staked their own well being to mine and my family’s this evening in a way that makes crystal clear for me the good things we’ve been given in our life. While my wife was speeding to the ER, I made one phone call and sent one text, and within half an hour two pastors–former colleagues–were by her side. One of them is staying the night in an as-yet-undetermined ICU. Two college students, former youth group stalwarts who are now leaders, called and had to be talked out of rushing to the hospital themselves.

Meanwhile, my people–the colleague group that is in constant daily communication over Facebook Messenger–prayed with me and sat with me well past midnight, when the CT results came back. My wife’s family has a Messenger group too, and that swung into action with prayers and attendant waiting.

And I’ve just sent the email to my newest colleagues asking them to excuse me for a week they hadn’t planned on. I hate doing that, and yet I’m not hesitating to do that.

I don’t expect to blog much the next several days. Let this word of gratitude stay here in the meantime, then: Krista, Karen, Courtney, Landon, Brian, Marci, Chad, Libby, Rick, Barbara, Donna, Sandra, John, Nathan, Bekah, Alejandro, Angel, Chuey, Shannon, Shelly, and Katie. I’m grateful for you. You’re saving my life right now.

 

 

In Praise of The Confab

My former colleague ran a great series of trainings for her Sunday School volunteers she called “Confabs” that happened about three times a year. They were hands-on, instructional, and interactive. The staff got as much out of them as the volunteers.

With a nod to Krista Wuertz, then, I’m planning a “Confab” for all of our youth leaders next August. The Doodle poll went out this week.

Tell me what you think of this: we need to be developing as leaders in three distinct areas–skills, knowledge, and connections.

We need to sharpen our youth ministry skills for designing Bible studies, leading small groups, conducting large group games, and a host of other things that effective youth leaders do well. These are the things that most intimidate prospective leaders, who say things like, “I don’t know how to work with teenagers.” It’s not rocket science. This is how.

We also need to broaden our knowledge of adolescent development, social media, theology, Bible, and emerging cultural postures, so that our work with teens is informed and so that it can change in response to new learning or deepening reflection.

Finally, we need stronger connections to one another as leaders. That’s a matter of development, because so much youth ministry work proceeds from the relationships enjoyed by the adults doing the work. A huge part of what makes Tapestry effective, for example, is the community of leader relationships that expand and grow. Developing youth leaders means connecting them more deeply to one another; isolated leaders aren’t effective.

I’m putting the Confab together now, so I’m eager to hear what you guys think about this and to learn of material you find useful in leader development work.

 

 

 

No Jerks Allowed (An Unpolished Presentation of Youth Ministry Values)

I scheduled a four hour planning retreat for our youth ministry staff for this week, and after reading Marko’s post on values I decided to commit a significant piece of our meeting time to them. I hope it’s the first step in a broad conversation about what matters to us in our work with teenagers. I also employed this Harvard Business Review piece about different types of values, because the distinction between, say, core values and aspirational values feels pretty important.

Here is an unpolished presentation of what we uncovered.

Relationships, community, and belonging are core values for us. We prioritize activities that foster face-to-face conversation, especially in small groups. We want teenagers to feel at home when they’re at church.

Another core value is exploration and questioning. We want students to delve deep into their doubts and their gaps in understanding–about God, themselves, the world–in a safe, non-judgmental environment.

We have some aspirational values too. We think these are critical to our success, but we’re not sure we’re fully embodying them yet. Being Biblically thorough is one of those. The arc of the Biblical narrative ought to shape our students’ emerging understanding of who they are and how they’re called to live. We also value inclusion: the spaces and activities we’re cultivating need to be accessible to teenagers we don’t yet know and who don’t know the church yet.

We also think that adolescents need to be incorporated into grown up expressions of church life, so we’re aspiring to a value of youth/adult integration. At the same time, adolescence is a long runway with a world of isolation between its extreme ends, so it matters to us that early adolescents and older adolescents are connecting with one another and not only with peers their own age.

Spiritual vitality, too, needs to matter. We are in the spirituality business. Youth need to experience moments of transcendence, gratitude, penitence, and glory, and they need to be invited to respond in those moments with commitment, yet in ways that do not traffic in emotional manipulation.

Our “Pay To Play” values are pretty straightforward: we must enjoy teenagers. We must have healthy personal boundaries. Collaboration, enthusiasm, patience, and authenticity are all non-negotiable for us. We can’t be jerks or bullies either.

Professionalism, long term involvement, a preference for the big and the best–these are some of the “Accidental” values we notice in ourselves, things that, for better or worse, seem to really matter to us based on an assessment of who’s already here and what’s already happening. We also clearly value youth leaders who are not parents. Getting away on retreats is another accidental value. So is ritual; we invest a lot of meaning in doing things the same way year after year.

Here’s to a robust and honest conversation about what matters to us in our work, and here’s to that conversation leading us to work that is daring and smart.