Change is okay

For the first 22 years of my career, I changed employers on average every two years. I have been with my current company for seven years. Wow. I’ve been working professionally for just about 30 years. No, I have not yet experienced age-ism, because I have been subjected to sexism and “size-ism.” I have been subjected to reverse age-ism, as I appear younger than I am. In order to establish some sort of experience, I changed jobs a lot.

The past seven years with my current company has been interesting, since the company has been the one to change often. Not me, not my role. This has illustrated to me that change is actually something I appreciate.

Have you ever made a major mistake at work? If you haven’t, you will. How do you recover from that mistake? You’ll find all kinds of articles on that very topic. However, one tactic I haven’t seen discussed much is how change helps recover from mistakes. You change how you approach your work, improving your process so you don’t repeat the same mistake, sure.

But some people don’t forget that easily.

Eventually you change jobs. Maybe within your same company, or sometimes a total change in scenery is in order. You get a new degree or certification, and you grow. But, you will find that memories don’t care. You still have to move to leave that mistake behind.

What about boredom? Burnout? These are also great reasons to change your surroundings. If you have done your same job for so long that you can do it in your sleep, it may be time to change what you do. It’s not good for you, and it’s not good for an organization that relies on you being there, forever. It’s not good for you, because you can slip into entropy. If you can maintain stasis, that means you are still pushing and progressing. But, are you growing? Are you able to spot improvements that bring value to you or your team?

It’s not good for your organization because you become the only person who knows “a thing,” and that creates risk that puts you in an awkward situation – calls while you are on vacation, or added stress if you fall ill. Who wants to be home, fighting an illness or healing from an injury, when you know that you are a missing piece of a large puzzle at work? Sure, you can not care, but deep down, if you want to keep the job you currently have, or want a new one, please do consider that you can benefit from caring about your absence, just a little. And the organization will change without your input. I’ve seen first-hand the ability of a team to easily backfill people who thought their singularity was an asset.

Whether or not, change happens. With or without you. I have been blessed to work with a wide array of people, in all kinds of situations. Many times, I’m the fire fighter and the fixer. The force multiplier. Under all this problem solving is more the constant of change. Teams and organizations can’t create or maintain repeatable processes because something changes. That change is articulated as “a problem.” Client A wants what Client B is doing, but… spot the difference, and it’s usually identified as a problem. Or, if you work with toxically positive people, an “opportunity.” One is perceived as negative, the other is an attempt at positivity.

Take the emotion out of it. It is change. One use case changes into another. Change is neither positive or negative, which makes it good. Change is not evil. Change can be frustrating, but the more we all learn to adapt, we will grow. And growth is always better than entropy. Actively kill a thing that needs to stop instead of letting it wither and die.

Low-hanging fruit and the “Cedar Point Thumbs Up”

I’ve participated in a lot of releases. Some go smoothly, some do not. The ones that do have a common element… the team takes the time to confirm that when you ask a question or give a “go-ahead” message, you also receive a “message received” response.

Release checklists are helpful as a visual aid to see progress. Even so, when moving between items, mis-steps can happen. One person can give a go-ahead message, but the next person doesn’t hear it, causing delay. Or, someone moves to the next step without hearing that the previous step was completed, creating conflict or breakage.

It may feel painful to take the extra time, but there is value in verbally confirming a message was received. So, it might sound like this:

“Step one has begun.”

“Got it. Waiting for step one to complete.”

“Step one is complete. You can proceed with step two.”

“Okay, starting on step two.”

You get the idea. Over the past few days, we’ve had lower-risk items go uncompleted simply because we didn’t take the time to acknowledge that a message was received. It may have sounded like a one-way communication, like a meeting request, but without confirmation that everyone heard the message, the next step didn’t take place. In a very simple case, I asked if the team wanted a meeting. The team assumed the meeting was required, and simply waited for the meeting invite. I really, really meant that the meeting would only be scheduled if you wanted it. So, I didn’t schedule the meeting. Looks like some on the team wanted the meeting, so I’m bummed that we had confusion on whether or not to have the meeting.

Sometimes, we call this a “sound off,” or “Cedar Point thumbs up*.” This means that everyone gives a verbal acknowledgement (or email, slack, text), even if the message is a positive acknowledgement. “Shall we move to the next feature?” “Yep, I’m ready.” “Go ahead.” “Move it, already!!”

Yes, it can create a lot of email chatter, but having a response from everyone helps those requesting input understand the urgency and state of affairs. This helps in planning for all of us.

So, please, speak your mind. Give your team mates that feedback, and let them know you heard him or her. Trust me, it will be appreciated!

* For those of you not in Michigan or Ohio, Cedar Point is a theme park most of us have frequented in our youth… it’s the closest example of a group of people doing safety checks as people board the rides. They all give a thumbs up when their area has been checked, and the ride operator only starts the ride once all thumbs are up.

Deja Vu and Other Cliches

Here I am again, with my annual post. This time, I’m the example of what happens when your goals aren’t focused. My role is heavily weighted to being able to cover for my fellow teammates. Sure, it seems like I should know each of their jobs very well. And I’m getting there. Trouble is, I have no goals of my own to pursue.

Manufacturing environments rely on repeatable processes… doing the same thing every day. Doesn’t sound too ripe for a goal, does it? Ahhh… yes! There are goals revolving around doing things better, faster and cheaper, of course. And then there are more nebulous goals, like improving the product itself. Ideas from the front line. Heck, they stare at the silly thing all day, right?

News is akin to production. Graphics production. Article drafts, edits and proofs. Publishing processes. Approval processes.

And there’s the trap.

It’s so easy to simply publish more of the same every time.

“This is the way we’ve always done it.”

I get consistency, but there’s a way to pull it off while still evolving and improving. Growing with the organization. Even incremental improvements over time can map to a large organizational change goal. Yes, I’m talking about content. Separating content from the publishing system.

We currently have a very old publishing system. It was very cool back in the day, and did all kinds of personalization and customization that simply was unheard of back then. And now we’re hampered by it, so we think. Or, so outsiders think. Until we get them to rethink their approach.

Data helps, but sometimes the improvements are so intuitive that they sell themselves. Like this idea of spreadability vs. stickiness. I rolled my eyes as soon as I read, “No, we needed to launch a corporate blog.”

Okay, I’m not that mean. I rolled my eyes, and then went to work looking for ways to educate people internally on how to spread information rather than make them all come hither. That’s where a portal design that seems ancient can really work to our advantage. Leverage the flat content structure to cross link and feature content from other sources throughout our intranet. It’s a simple concept, but “related content” is one way to get unstuck from a system that’s holding you back.

All of our publishers are getting better at embedding links to other content in articles they publish. The context really helps people know that they’re going to get what they want, and it helps us package content into meaningful collections for our employees.

Yep, it may be frustrating to be treading water, teaching the same lesson four years later. Grasp the challenge of finding a new way to use it. Teach it. Share it. Make it a goal.

“Dumb blondes” and Usability

People pick on blondes for being dumb. I grew up a toe-headed blonde, so, yes, I got all the jokes.

I’ve always had a severe dislike for jargon. It smacks of elitist exclusion.

Two prejudices that now work to my advantage.

I had a boss back in the day that explained to me the tipping point for hiring me – if I can explain fuel cells to fifth graders, surely I can explain mortgages to just about anyone. No, I don’t have a magical understanding of all things. I had some pretty knock-down, drag-out fights with my chemist friend as I tried to understand something about recycling plastics.

I am driven to deconstruction by my desire to know why. How. Leave no person left behind. Never assume a class of people can’t understand something. My current boss asks me to create documentation on processes all the time. “You know, like you do so well.” Is it a gift? Or fed up with others assuming I can’t possibly understand this? Yup. A bit of determination to prove people wrong.

I work for a financial company now. My colleague, Deb, had the same fear I did when starting this job – I’m not a finance person! How is this going to work? It does, because we both ask a lot of questions. Sure, it’s annoying for the seasoned veterans, but we manage to catch things. Assumptions. Doing it the way we’ve always done it. Little typos.

I’d like to think this excruciating trait of having to explain things in plain English is a benefit. However, there’s beating a dead horse, and the value of shared meaning can’t be denied. In the end, it’s a balance between being helpful to the newbie and being efficient for the veteran – clarity.

 

Another icy, frozen status update

I’m freezing. Bitterly cold. And, yes, I spent two more days at the Ren Cen, admiring the frozen Detroit River. Final pitch preparation is now done, and the presentation has been delivered. Milestone completed. We said goodbye to our project manager today, too. Except I wasn’t there for it. For a while, I enjoyed the excitement of last-minute edits in pitch prep, catching all those things that are supposed to be caught, and helping those around me keep their heads about them. And then it turned ugly. We ran out of time to make all the changes we wanted, and Will and I cringed as we saw things that just shouldn’t be. Good thing James cleaned up his unique spelling of “their’yre” in time. Good one. In the end, we had to remember that this is just like churning out the daily papers on which we grew up – at the end of the day, it’s lining the bird cage. Or in the case of my house two years ago, the guinea pig cage.

My poor daily routines have been ignored all week, and I’ve had to squeeze in regular work during odd times. But, I did manage to create a content calendar that I like. It defines the audiences we need to hit as an overlay for the regular “what’s happening this month” crud we’re supposed to work with. We can then look at the angles and make sure we’re creating useful stuff, not crap. Let’s see how it works out in the real world. I’m also working on a slightly different way to annotate wireframes, where the function list and use case is included. Content sources? No room for that on this one. It’ll have to stay on the content inventory.

Next week I want to get back into the education discussions, because I miss that area, and the people. The teachers and administrators I follow for @GMeducation are always upbeat, even when they’re having a rough day. They may call out a bad day, but it’s always with an attitude that today is a fresh start. Molly Keene wrote a great post on Teach Green, GM’s environmental education blog, comparing Scitable and Scribd, with a specific emphasis on classroom use. My partner-in-crime who loves Scribd even agrees with the assessment. Oh, and Google has a “computer science for high school” program, CS4HS, and they’re looking to give away money to colleges who want to create workshops. Check it out at www.cs4hs.com.

Yup, missed my first milestone.

It's a freighter. On the Detroit River. Much more exciting than many things I could have been doing.

No time to do the weekly status report last week because I got sucked into a pitch for the launch of the Chevy Sonic. We spent two days at the Renaissance Conference Center, and I swear I spent more time watching the freighters than contributing valuable ideas. Well, except for the bad idea of dressing Danica Patrick in Victorian garb in a misguided attempt to lure NASCAR fans to sign up for the Martha Stewart iPad app. Yup, you had to be there.

During the course of our brainstorming, however, Patrick Falconer (a.k.a. “the Canadian”) shared what his cousin, Squash Falconer has been doing. Squash is a lively girl who created “the knickers philosophy.” It’s quite awesome, and I agree wholeheartedly. But, who can argue with a woman who has climbed, skied and jumped off more places than most of us have ever seen.

My current favorite photo.

My grandpa's camp has a healthy batch of Trillium. I had totally forgotten about this flower until last Spring, when we were there for his 90th birthday party.

This blog sucks.

Forget the fact that it’s been exactly one year since I’ve posted. Even though old content is one of the worst things you can do to a blog, that’s not why this blog sucks.

It sucks because it’s not me. Not entirely. The photo posts? Yep, that’s me. That’s what’s on my mind and a photo doesn’t ramble. Those longer posts that go on and on, pontificating? They’re downright awful.

I’ve learned over the past year that, yes, I am a communicator. I touched on that in my first post, “I’m not a fan of social media.” I’m a dot-connector. I like to hear what people are doing, and connect them with like minds. Hopefully, one of those connections will result in people putting their heads together to make things happen.

I’m also a doer. The last post, penned on the very last day of 2009, proclaims that. And I’ve been doing a lot of doing this year. It’s been hard, but it’s been a blast. And, yet, I have little to show for it. Sure, I have a VNR, a digital magazine and some lesson plans with Discovery Education that I can point to and say, “I helped make that happen.” Then there’s that crazy webcast we did with the 8th graders from Detroit Public Schools.

But, I didn’t breathe a word about it here. Why? Because I still don’t have the stomach to put it down on virtual paper. Seems there are so many other voices out there saying exactly the same thing. I have nothing new to say on the topic. I don’t feel the need to be a trend setter. I just want to be in on the party.

I’ll not come up with groundbreaking content strategy theory. I won’t create a lesson plan that hasn’t already been done. And, no, I’m still not going to write a book on social media. (Not that anyone has asked, just seems to be the trend.)

If we reserve blogs just for the groundbreaking milestones, we’ll end up with a bunch of empty blogs, just like this one. I’m going to borrow a project management practice this year. Weekly status reports. Yup, they sure can be boring, but how else can I get in the habit of recording what’s happening with these projects? Since we are supposed to be blogging for our own purposes, why not embrace that fully, and realize that, no, people really don’t care that much what I have to say. I have to say it for me.

And, so, this is my blog. And it still sucks. Because it’s for me, not you.

I became a fan of Detroit by leaving

Sometimes you just have to take a break. I didn’t realize that until after I had taken that much-needed time away from defending my home town. I define my “home town” as Detroit, even though I grew up in Royal Oak, a suburb just north of Detroit, back in the 70s and 80s. Royal Oak was a ghost town with a few die-hard businesses like Frentz and Sons Hardware, Hagelstein’s Bakery, the Kite Shop and a lonely Baskin Robin’s 31 Flavors on the corner.

Political corruption and economic downturns had grown a huge helplessness in me.

“I can’t change anything.”

So, after years of thinking that way, we decided to leave, and “go where the jobs are.” Unfortunately, with strong automotive backgrounds, we naturally and subconsciously followed the automotive industry. From that view, the move didn’t work out so well, as the most recent downturn left no automotive town unscathed. Greenville, South Carolina, weathered that downturn well because it’s core business is not automotive. But, all that growth has basically contracted, leaving Greenville where it was a few years ago, which isn’t a bad place at all. But, for all of us “automotive people,” we’ve had to move on in one form or another. We spent two years in Greenville, and we learned a ton. Mostly, that we love Detroit.

We love Greenville, definitely.

The public schools are the best I’ve seen, handling the drain that poverty creates and accelerated programs in the same buildings gracefully. Greenville schools know how to recruit and retain excellent teachers, young and old. They’ve also mastered a way to bridge between “regular” public schools and charter schools with a “magnet” concept that overlays a specialization for a school that’s at risk for losing students to other schools-of-choice initiatives. For example, our local elementary school was also a magnet school with a fine/performing arts focus. Being an urban school, it was losing students in the 90s, and downtown Greenville was growing a strong performing arts center that partnered with the school to develop ways to integrate the arts into everyday lesson plans; the school district secured funding for a drama teacher and a dance teacher. Now, students compete for the magnet slots each year. The school still has a “residency area” it serves, like any other public school, so the number of new magnet slots offered is calculated after the residency requirements are met.

Downtown is a model for revitalization. They started with a 20-year plan, and executed. It didn’t go perfectly, but they kept at it. I won’t pretend to know what planners and the community went through to do so much of this work, because we were only there for two years. But, from what I understand, it took many people to transform what used to be what we’d call “downtown Pontiac” or “Flint” into a thriving community with a strong arts community and developing business community. The downtown park is spectacular. If you’ve read previous posts here, you’ve seen pictures of the Reedy River Falls, which run through downtown. The Liberty Bridge spans the river, and the park surrounding all this is a constant in downtown life. A local theater group stages summer Shakespeare performances for free.

Okay, so why do we still love Detroit? Because for how enamored we are with all the great things in Greenville, we realized that Detroit has them. It’s just more spread-out geographically. And, frankly, after taking a break from defending Detroit and the automotive industry, I’m ready to actually do something. It helps that I learned that no matter what the situation is, I can do something.

Stuff I did that I didn’t think I could do:

• Invite neighbors over for Thanksgiving dinner.
• Become a Library Clerk and help kids develop a love of reading.
• Serve on (and chair!) a School Improvement Council.
• Coach a LEGO robotics team.
• Be a backstage wrangler of child actors.
• Knit baby booties to be auctioned to support school funding.
• Help promote a new chiropractic office by creating a place for local artists to display their work.
• Help Cinderella do a quick change into a ball gown in under 30 seconds.
• Lend a good word to support local businesses and products.

Now I know I love this city and I know I can do stuff. Normally I would want a plan. Tough. I didn’t have a plan for the things I did in Greenville. Heck, I don’t even really remember how I got involved in most of the things on that list. I knew I wanted my son to have a LEGO robotics team; one didn’t exist, so we created one. I think I had a moment of madness during the PTA meeting when I volunteered to chair the School Improvement Council. But, at least I was at the meeting, right? Maybe the geography made it easier for me to dive in. After all, we lived one mile outside of downtown. The elementary school was four blocks away. But this is the Motor City, right? Let’s use those motors! Insert all the motivational crap you hear every day, and put it to use. I don’t need to repeat it, right?

I’m not sure what changed for me, specifically, that moved me to start doing stuff.  For sure, the less excuses we have, the better. But, there were still obstacles in Greenville, too. Sometimes that fabulous school district drove me nuts by stonewalling the effort to get a Mandarin teacher into my son’s middle school. And do you know how long it took the city to figure out that they should put recycling bins downtown? Too long. And now there’s a fight over a Waffle House that’s being built in an area that doesn’t want it. Not to mention the people scoffing up the property surrounding the developing Kroc Center, driving up taxes for the people who haven’t sold their homes.

When you stay long enough in paradise, you realize it has flaws, too. And maybe that’s at the root of the lesson I had to learn. I can pine away for a more perfect city in which to live, but it’s not going to bring me that satisfaction I seek. So, Detroit, you’re stuck with me. Except, this time, I have some ideas and some motivation.

People who DO stuff

It started while pondering one of the questions Stephanie Tardy had to handle from the Time Detroit Project reporter. Stephanie was being interviewed before the Detroit Urban Craft Fair (DUCF), and one of the questions asked, “Are you part of this ‘Creative Class’ that is supposed to save Detroit?”

Stephanie shared that question with me before answering. We had a great discussion on how people can talk problems to death without actually doing something about it. Others simply get down to the doing. Crafters do. Sometimes crafters do things to make money. Sometimes they do things to express themselves. Sometimes no one but the crafter knows the motivation. But crafters can DO stuff.

Before I read Stephanie’s answer in the Time Detroit Project blog, I had a moment. Driving to work. Stopped by a school bus. The bus stop had only two people: a girl, and an adult, clad in work clothes. As the girl boarded the bus, he hugged her and turned around. It was Grandpa. Or, at least an old face with a white beard and hands that have done a ton of work. He does stuff. And he’s there to make sure that girl gets on the bus safely. Because people who do stuff make sure people are okay. And there’s something about such a strong stock of people.

Stephanie’s answer and this man at the bus stop collided in my head. The people I choose to respect are those that DO stuff. That personal truth had never been more clear for me than at that moment. The choices I’ve made and the people I admire are based on this truth, whether I’ve been consciously aware of it or not.

I can’t share with you a photo of the man at the bus stop, but you can read Stephanie’s answer to the “Creative Class” question here: http://detroit.blogs.time.com/2009/11/19/a-creative-look-at-detroit/