Leading Mama

Beware Anger Management Failure

Besides being a writer, I currently work for the federal government as a social scientist/researcher. Some days I wish I was a lab rat locked away from the rest of the team (really, it’s like doing your taxes in a room full of 12-year-old girls who are gushing about the latest boy band) and when I want to be really productive, I work from home. But I am a social scientist, after all, and observing our office social – and anti-social – interactions is fascinating when I can avoid being completely sucked in to the vortex myself.   

 

This week I wasn’t so lucky. You know how people’s hair stands on end in a lightning storm? Picture me like that, sitting at my computer Tuesday afternoon.

In walked our newest team member, a writer recently hired to help draft the huge report we’re producing on a very short timeline. We’ve met three or four times in the past month (for a total of about 16 hours) to get acquainted, explain where we are with the project, clarify expectations, go over the outline and discuss the finer points of the introduction, which we’d asked her to draft using information we supplied.   

 

Who’s the “we,” you ask? I share my office with another analyst who is in charge of pulling together the report, and she and I are collaborating very closely on the process and the product. We both feel some sense of responsibility for this report, but she’s the one with the lead role. (insert suspenseful music that alludes not-so-subtly to the possibility of violence here)

 

So the new writer comes breezes in and asks me if I have 5 minutes to talk. Sure I say, have a seat. I’ve gone to see the boss, she says. Just wanted to fill you in.

 

Hmm. Okay. It’s standard practice to have an office call with the big boss when you come on board – say how happy you are to be hear, get a “glad you’re part of the team” handshake – so I figure it’s nothing earth-shattering. And she only wants 5 minutes.

 

“I clarified with the boss that I report directly to her,” she says. (I hear sirens go Wah-wah-wah LIGHTNING IN THE AREA) “I’m putting together an alternate outline for the report and the boss and I agreed I’d have it done by the 14^th,” she says.

 

My head nearly popped off, I’m sure. Somehow when you come face to face with an act of passive aggression this huge, it doesn’t feel passive at all! The three of us had been playing so nicely together, and she’d gone to the boss to sell her ideas and grab control of the process behind our backs.

 

I didn’t lose it completely, but I wasn’t feeling calm. I asked her to explain herself, clarified what we’d discussed and agreed to earlier, and (after 2 hours of conversation) ultimately came to the conclusion what she was doing was not going to completely derail our efforts. I felt comfortable that she would go out and get to work.

 

Suffice it to say, when my office mate returned and I explained what had gone down, she wasn’t happy. Initially, her hair stood on end (like mine). Then the smoke started streaming from her ears. Her head turned round and round on her neck like a demonically-possessed individual. Her white-hot anger raised the temperature in our office by at least 10 degrees. Really.

 

The following day she called the writer by phone. She got angry. She didn’t want to discuss, she wanted to explode. And that’s what happened. She started by dragging me into the conflict – yelling about how the writer had wasted two hours of my time.

 

(I’m thinking “That’s the not real issue here.” More warning sirens go off. I say nothing.)

 

She followed that fight with a discussion of who works for whom here. Told the writer that she (the writer) doesn’t report to the big boss (no one here does) and re-asserted her role as the leader of the report-writing effort. The writer blathered on about the collaborative role she wants in the process, but continued to argue she takes her direction only from the boss. The writer asked for the boss’s phone number and told my office mate she’d call the boss to clarify. Fine.

 

(I’m thinking “You need to address her behavior head-on. Tell her you are angry that she went behind your back, and that collaboration requires trust that has clearly been violated here.” I say nothing.)

 

The writer says we should have a meeting to discuss the issues (I’m picturing another 2-hour dialogue, with more people and more vitriol.) My office mate flatly refuses. She tells her we are too busy to get together on Friday, have interviews to conduct Monday, can’t do it. She says “I think we can work together” through clenched teeth, but refuses to spend any more time discussing “the incident” or clarifying roles. Her usual in-your-face-aggression has become door-in-the-face-aggression. She shut the writer out.

 

(I’m thinking this will be painful, but there has to be a discussion or we can’t work together. I say nothing.)

 

To make a long story not quite as long as it might be, the next morning the writer quit. She opted out of a contract worth more than six figures that she would have completed in the next 4 months (yes, that’s about 25K per month). She said ours was a hostile work environment and she couldn’t handle it.

 

How’s that for the eerie calm after the storm?

 

We all feel like we were hit by lightning this week. Our hair is singed, our energy drained. I picture us all walking across a field together, our clothes in tatters. No one really knows what hit them.

 

Misused anger burns everyone. Beware.

 

The Care and Feeding of Stress Puppies

Last week I put aside what I had planned in order to write an article that was commissioned 6 days before deadline by a magazine I queried in early November. Six days is not enough days, mind you – especially when the article requires interviews with famously busy experts on the topic and it’s find-a-$10-gift-for-the-holiday-office-party week. 

 

Perhaps Santa likes irony. The article whose words and phrases chased my dreams away and left me stressed out and crazy was titled “How to Turn Off Your Brain and Get the Sleep You Need.” I spent the week reading about relaxation, interviewing experts on stress, and obsessing over things I didn’t know and couldn’t control. And those obsessions took root, sprouted, and grew as the week went on. 

 

Stress is the gift that keeps on taking. It steals your concentration, ruins your sleep, poisons your attitude. I found myself mentally writing and re-writing inane sentences at 3 a.m. when all I wanted was some rest. The churning, roiling lump of anxiety inside spun off little stresslets all week long. Stresslet is my pet name for the what-ifs that get you in their grasp and won’t let go no matter how small or how irrational. With a little care and feeding, those little stresslets grow in to big, hairy monsters, you know. 

 

Four days since the deadline, I think I’m finally wrestling free. What brought me back to some semblance of sanity? Christmas letters from good friends, time with my family, and a big dose of gratitude for all the good things in my life. If the stresslets in your life are growing like Saint Bernard puppies, get some perspective. Call a friend and take time to catch up. Order your café mocha in a ceramic mug, and dunk a biscotti. Buy and give a gift through the charity organization you admire (Salvation Army, Toys for Tots, etc.). When you step away, you’ll see that stresslets are kind of cute when they’re small. Really.

Oh, Say Can't You See?

I was driving home from the commissary yesterday when a radio commercial sponsored by the American Automobile Association came on. In the ad, a spokesperson for AAA informed listeners that the use of hands-free cell phone devices while driving is no safer than using hand-held cell phones. The reason, he said, is people are likely to get so deeply engaged in their phone conversation that they literally do not see what it right in front of their eyes. Perception researchers call this “seeing without seeing” inattention blindness. 

 

I got to thinking that inattention blindness doesn’t just happen behind the wheel, and it doesn’t just happen when we’re gabbing on our cell phones. Much of the imbalance in modern living is the result of inattention blindness on a much bigger scale.

 

Each of us performs a number of roles on a daily basis. I, for example, am a wife, a mother, a pet owner and caretaker, a freelance writer, a business owner, a friend and confidant, a mom’s club member and book group coordinator, an athlete, a thinker, a housekeeper, a sister, a daughter, a military spouse, a chef, a chauffeur, a hostess, Santa’s helper…I’m sure there are more, but you get the idea. Some of our roles are defined by our personal interests, some by our relationships with others, some by our professional work or the tasks we do. 

 

Inattention blindness and a sense of unhealthy imbalance happen because some roles are more absorbing than others. When a cranky toddler with a stinky diaper and a runny nose holds my attention, I miss the gotta-go-outside signals and end up with dog pee on the floor. When a looming deadline or muddled story idea absorbs my energies, I forget to ask my husband about his day and don’t notice or acknowledge the kind things he does to support me. He feels neglected and underappreciated even if he doesn’t pee on the floor to get my attention. (Thank goodness!) 

 

If you’re feeling out of control and off balance, stop and look for the blind spots in your life. Your intense focus on the most pressing issues has likely blinded you to other important joys and concerns. Take it all in. You may be surprised when you see what you’re missing. I was.

The Business of Education

At a time when family budgets are shrinking and unemployment is on the rise, more and more schools are paying students for academic achievement. In Chicago, financial incentives are offered as part of “Green for Grades.” In more than 100 Texas high schools, the nonprofit group Advanced Placement Strategies pays up to $500 to kids earning top scores on AP English, math and science tests. 

Have I lost touch with reality or does this seem like a really bad idea to you, too?

 

Psychological research consistently shows when you pay people to perform tasks, they lose interest in them. It’s as if they think to themselves “If she’s got to pay me to do this, it must be really boring.” Kids paid to color pictures decide they aren’t so fond of coloring anymore. Professional athletes lose touch with the thrill of the sport when they’re overpaid and under pressure. What’s worse, when external incentives disappear, most people stop doing what you paid them to do.

 

Remind me – what makes the cash-for-grades exchange a good idea?

 

Business leaders might compare this practice to incentive systems for employees. There are several similar systems in business practice – profit sharing, working on commission, bonuses for exceptional performance.

 

Since school funding depends on student test scores, the practice of paying students for grades amounts to an educational profit sharing plan. Sort of – but not really. In profit sharing programs, employees typically share in the company’s profits as a group, not as individuals. Profit sharing programs encourage employees to work as a team for the good of the organization. One employee’s success is irrelevant if profits are down across the board. Everyone has to achieve or no one does.

 

WashingtonD.C.’s “Capital Gains” incentive system and other programs nationwide reward individual performance. These programs amount to work on commission for students. The more good grades they post, the greater their individual financial rewards. Other students’ success is irrelevant. And no work means no pay.

 

I know it’s tempting to believe financial incentives will motivate kids to stay in school and get good grades. But if school is work, and education is business, then we know paying people more can’t make them care. And it can’t make them stay where they don’t want to be. 

 

Nearly a quarter of all American’s change jobs each year, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. Though 89% of managers think their employees quit because they could make more money elsewhere, only 12% of employees leave for more money. The #1 reason people quit their jobs is BAD MANAGEMENT. 

 

Bad bosses fail to involve people in decision making. They fail to appreciate employees’ contributions. And they fail to develop employees’ talents and abilities. One study found workers are almost four times more likely to leave because their skills are not being used and their careers are not being developed than because of salary.

 

Before paying another poor student to earn a passing score on the state-mandated math test this year, maybe educators need to re-think what truly motivates students. Just like adults, kids appreciate opportunities to contribute to something bigger than themselves. They like being part of a team. They want to make a difference in the world. Not later – NOW.

 

Kids’ enthusiasm for learning new skills (animation, photography, auto mechanics) and developing talents (art, music, athletics, drama) is automatic. We don’t have to pay them to play baseball. We don’t offer incentives for drawing or singing or photography. Because learning is incentive enough.

 

Unfortunately the intrinsically satisfying nature of learning is undermined by teach-the-test academics. There’s no room left for exploring what is interesting to students. No time for group projects and service learning. Education has been reduced to assembly line production – no room for creativity remains.

 

If assessment-centric decision making, educational inequity, and an inability to see how education matters in life have de-motivated students to the point we must pay them to learn, we’ve got a problem no amount of money can fix. Really.

 

Way to Win!

Woo hoo!!!!!

 

I got the good news late last night. 

 

No, I’m not referring the results of the Presidential race – I’m talking about the race results of the 5^th-6^th grade boys Cross Country district finals.

 

My nephew, Ryan, won 14^th place out of 103 (extremely fast) runners. He earned a ribbon and surpassed his personal goal to place in the top 15. Now that’s something to shout about! Can I hear you say "Woo hoo?!"

 

This is his second season in cross country, and Ryan’s come a long way (literally and not-so-literally). He’s learned to position himself at the starting line so he can get out ahead of the pack. He’s learned not to waste mental or physical energy turning around to see what’s behind him. He stays focused on the terrain ahead. 

 

He now paces himself so he’s got enough gas left at the end to sprint to the finish. Keep in mind that even when he’s pacing himself, he runs a mile in under 6 minutes. And when someone outruns him, he’s learned that what matters most is how he ran in comparison to his personal bests and personal goals. Lots of grown-ups haven’t learned that yet.

 

Ryan won nearly every meet this season. And I’m very proud of him. When I watched him run this fall, I was struck by the way he makes speed look graceful and easy. That’s what great athletes do, right? 

 

He crossed the finish line with a wide smile on his face, not looking at all like who just ran a heart-pounding mile. He took a few minutes to get a drink and hug his mom, catching his breath and savoring the thrill of the win. And then he turned to his teammates and said, “Come on guys, let’s cheer in Logan.” 

 

Ryan led a group of fellow runners back to the course and they yelled and they cheered for the last runner left on the course, a kid who runs with great heart despite coming in last in every race. As he neared the end, Ryan started jogging. He ran next to his friend Logan until he crossed the finish line, too.

 

Now that’s the way to win.

 

Congratulations on an awesome cross country season, Ryan! I couldn’t be prouder of you.

The Myth of Independent-Mindedness

While I was pedaling the recumbent bike at the health club this morning, (yet another) political ad caught my attention. I can’t recall the name of the candidate, as his selling proposition wasn’t particularly unique. Behind his headshot, in large letters, were the words “Independent-Minded.”

 

I guess all candidates want us to believe that they’re independent minded, insofar as none of them boast they’re “in-tight-with-the-Washington-fatcats-who-created-the-mess-we’re-in” or “swayed-by-Wall-Street-bankers-lawyers-and-lobbyists.” Never mind that my slogans won’t fit the TV screen, even in wide screen mode. You get my point.

 

I’ve been thinking of the dependence—independence continuum this week as I’m writing a piece on teenagers, whose headstrong independence in our big, scary world frightens many Moms and Dads. Parents of teenagers emphasize taking care of and thinking for oneself – we don’t want them to be swayed by the half-baked arguments of some other newly independent teenager we hardly know. “If Johnny jumped off a cliff, would you follow him?”

 

Independent-mindedness is prized in our culture – we measure skill and success largely by individual achievements (test scores, promotions, contests won, opponents defeated). But independent-mindedness isn’t enough – and it can be arrogant or dangerous.

 

I truly don’t believe independent-mindedness is possible – 60 years of psychological research shows our judgments and behavior are influenced by social and environmental cues far outside our awareness. But even if it were possible, I’m not sure it’s desirable. 

 

Leadership matters precisely because we’re all connected to each other and to our environment in ways we can scarcely fathom. It requires interdependent-mindedness. 

 

As a parent, I want my son to be both capable and caring. I want him to see how his actions can build up or tear down, and how his words can hurt or inspire. I want him to appreciate the interdependent nature of people, plants, and animals and act accordingly. If his actions do damage, I want him to make amends – and to do better next time. Now that’s leadership for an interdependent world.

 

To Err is Human, To Admit It Is Leadership

I'm reading a book by Carol Tavris and Elliot Aronson entitled Mistakes Were Made (But Not by Me): Why We Justify Foolish Beliefs, Bad Decisions, and Hurtful Acts. Both giants in the field of social psychology, Tavris and Aronson review 50 years of research on cognitive dissonance and self-justification, explaining how we tend to rationalize, justify, ignore, and evade evidence suggesting we’ve erred. 

 

The fragile ego needs protection, after all.

 

Tavris and Aronson remark, “To err is human, but humans have a choice between covering up and fessing up.” And most often, when confronted with proof we’re wrong, become even more tenacious in our own self-deception and self-defense.

 

It’s easy to find public examples in politics and on Wall Street these days. Just last night as we watched 60 Minutes, I wondered how hedge fund managers who made MILLIONS of dollars on credit default swaps and derivatives could live with themselves as they watch the US economy crumble before their eyes. People are losing their homes, their retirement savings, their jobs. 

 

The answer, of course, is that bankers and hedge fund managers and legislators responsible for the credit crunch live with themselves “exactly the way the rest of us do.” Now I’m not saying you or I have made bad decisions that impacted millions and millions of people (and Tavris and Aronson didn’t say that either). 

 

What I am saying is the psychological process of self-justification that allows them to sleep at night is the same one that allows you or I to live with the knowledge we’ve screwed up and hurt those we love, perhaps deeply.

 

In the last 24 hours, I’ve had two opportunities to admit a mistake. I confess in the more emotional, personally meaningful situation, I responded just like social psychologists would predict (and their predictions are not usually very favorable). In the less emotional, more black-and-white business-related situation, I very quickly (though not without embarrassment) admitted my error, explained how it happened, expressed my sincerest apologies, and asked for a gracious response from the individual I wronged. (And I'm happy to say the situation was resolved positively.)

 

The difficult situation was an argument with my husband, who felt I was critical of his parenting behavior. I fairly quickly dug in my heels (“I did not criticize you”), justified my behavior (“You started it”), and walked away from additional confrontation (literally).  

 

In the minutes that followed, what flashed through my mind was all the evidence to support my position, and a host of unspoken arguments to counteract his. I won’t list them here, and I’m glad that – at least this time – I kept all those not-so-kind words to myself. Keeping my mouth shut certainly isn’t my nature. 

 

Without the prompting of Mistakes Were Made, I’m not sure I would have re-evaluated what happened yesterday. Actually, I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t have. 

 

While I easily find fault with my hair (it’s flat today), my thighs (not as thin as they should be), my housekeeping (not a high priority), it’s much harder to see mistakes in my own behavior. I think that’s true for most of us. Real life requires a little (well, maybe a lot) of self-deception. We all make bad decisions at times, and sometimes our behavior hurts others. In order to feel like good, honest, caring, capable people, we justify it. Then we remember it selectively, culling out the parts that aren’t so flattering like we cut bad boyfriends out of our college photo albums. 

 

While I still don’t believe I criticized him directly, I certainly see how my husband interpreted it that way. And I am truly sorry I hurt him. That seems like a step in the right direction. I admit I’ve got a ways to go.

 

Now if those hedge fund managers would fess up, we could all sleep better tonight.

Parenting as Leadership – Anyone Can Cook!

For my philosophy of parenting, I owe a debt of gratitude to the movie Ratatouille.

 

In the movie, Chef Gusteau's motto, "Anyone Can Cook!" inspires Remy, a suburban Parisian rat to cook in a 4-star restaurant under the toque of a garbage boy. His technique is sophisticated, his results are sublime. The critic swoons over Remy's ratatouille, a brilliant sensory reminder of childhood in his mother's kitchen. If a rat can cook, anyone can.

 

I believe parents are leaders. All parents. Not just the ones whose kids nominate them for father or mother of the year. Not just the ones whose kids win scholastic awards, or make it to the all-star team. Not just the ones whose kids dress impeccably, in the latest fashion, and address all adults as “Sir” or “Ma’am.” Even parents of playground bullies and kids who start food fights in restaurants are leaders. But some parents are better leaders than others. And all of us have better days and not-so-better days.

 

There are many, many recipes for good parenting. And no one approach, technique, or list of ingredients will suit every parenting relationship. Or every day.

The best chefs know many techniques, are aware of how they work and when to apply them for the most scrumptious results. The most successful parents have great love for their children, focus energy on understanding the ingredients that make each child unique, and flexibly tailor their parenting approach as the child and the situation require. And the results are delicious!

 

 

Blogroll Me!

Ready, Set, Fail

As I scanned the business headlines this morning, an article entitled "How to Recover from Failure" caught my eye. The piece shows how entrepreneurs and political leaders get their wits about them and move on, despite massive, and often very public, failures.

In the sentimental closing section, Vice Presidential candidate Joe Biden even credits his mother with teaching him to stand up to challenges and fight back when all seems lost. Moms and dads everywhere should pat themselves on the back helping children "get back on the horse" over and over again. Teaching kids to fall gracefully and  to get back up again is, after all, a big part of parenting.

As I've been studying and practicing freelance writing, I wondered how people prepare themselves for failure. I know, it sounds defeatest to go into something expecting to fail and preparing for "the worst," but I can't help it. I've sent articles and queries to several national consumer magazines in the past month and that little devil on my shoulder shares his doomful doubts from time to time. He says things like, "That was a mistake," and "They'll never take you seriously." If he were real I'd strangle him.

A fellow student in my online writing class asked yesterday "Do I have to post my work?" The instructor replied that no, she did not have to post her work, but recommended she do so. I'm sure the student on the other end felt she was being encouraged to fail. Worse, it would be public (virtually public, anyway). I had asked a different question. My question was "Can I post some of my queries here for you and my classmates to read and make comments?"

I call it the READY, SET, FAIL approach. Here's why you should try it:

• Because risking public failure cements your commitment to the venture. I've met with many would-be entrepreneurs in my role as business consultant. Some brought me beautifully written, well-researched business plans. Others' plans were scribbled on the backs of gum wrappers. Some hadn't written a formal plan but positively burst with ideas when I asked how I might help. What they shared was a belief that their ideas were worth pursuing and the courage to commit to them.

• Because until you put your work out there, you can't get feedback on it. You've probably heard that Thomas Edison failed on the first 1,000 attempts make a lightbulb but he didn't lose hope. Rather, he says he learned 1,000 times how not to make a lightbulb. This is part truth and part mis-truth as Edison did not actually invent the lightbulb (it predated him by 50 years). Edison worked to identify a suitable filament for incandescent lightbulbs, one that would allow them to burn brighter and longer. What he did say was this:

 "After we had conducted thousands of experiments on a certain project without solving the problem, one of my associates, after we had conducted the crowning experiment and it had proved a failure, expressed discouragement and disgust over our having failed to find out anything. I cheerily assured him that we had learned something. For we had learned for a certainty that the thing couldn't be done that way, and that we would have to try some other way."

Thomas Edison interview, published January 1921, American Magazine.

• Because regret is a worse fate than failure. Studies of elderly people are revealing in this regard. When asked about their lives, few people say they wish they could change what has happened to them. Keep in mind, BAD things happen to people. They fall out of love, lose their jobs, and suffer debilitating injuries. But they seldom wish they could change these things. It seems tragedy has forged their character and to undo what's been done is unthinkable. What they DO regret is places they didn't go, projects they didn't pursue, relationships they let die over time.

So it seems wise to adopt the READY, SET, FAIL approach. Put yourself out there and see what happens. Remember, failure isn't the worst thing that can happen. Regret is. Commit to improvement and be persistent. When you fall, dust yourself off, figure out what you've learned, and lead on. Now, that's success.

Are You Linked In?

Are you LinkedIn? Is your face in the “book?” (FaceBook, that is.)  Do you Yahoo!? Got space on MySpace? Blogspot? CafeMom?

 

As I’ve been updating my networking site profiles and website information, I find myself waxing a bit nostalgic. Wasn’t business better when we stopped by colleagues’ or competitors’ offices, made phone calls, had lunch? Weren’t families better when we lived up the road from Grandma’s house and she didn’t have to watch the kiddos grow up via webcam?

 

Business banter loves the global marketplace. You can work on both coasts simultaneously, outsource your IT operations to Asia, and sell to multiple markets without leaving your home office. Suddenly suppliers’ competition skyrockets and it feels like everyone is a potential customer.

As families become more mobile and move further from their extended kin, moms and dads go global, too. We join parenting groups (I love mine!), make playdates, search for sitters online using giant databases of profiles (check out sittercity.com to see what I mean). Perhaps it has always been the case that “It Takes a Village” to raise a child, but the village is virtual these days.

 

I can’t help but wonder if all this social networking hasn’t had a paradoxical effect. We’re more connected than ever and yet we’re lonelier. We spend increasing amounts of time crafting our “selves” online (personal or professional profiles, websites, blogs). Yet our identities feel less authentic, our brands less compelling. It’s hard to tell what is real and what is creative fiction.

 

Interviewers for the General Social Survey asked people the following question:

 

“From time to time, most people discuss important matters with other people. Looking back over the last six months, who are the people with whom you have discussed matters important to you?” List their first names or initials.

 

Stop and answer this on scratch paper before you read on…

Come on, humor me and answer it.

 

The result? The number of close confidants reported has dropped nearly one third, from 2.94 to 2.08 in the last 20 years. The drop is depressing, but the absolute number is sadder still. In the year 2004, the average person said they discussed important matters with only 2 people?! What kind of social networking is that?

 

Social connections are important stress busters and they’re still the way business gets done. So before you update that profile, take a few minutes to invite a friend or coworker to lunch. Oh, and don’t forget to call your mom.