Notes for the
Reflective Practitioner

by Dr. Paul Pribbenow

Philanthropy is a journey. 

Let JGA be your guide.

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Volume One, Number Three (February 2000)  

"What we have loved, others will love, and we will teach them how."

(W. Wordsworth, from "The Prelude")

NOTES FROM READERS

 >>What you think<<

 A couple of notes from readers in response to the last issue of Notes caught my eye.  Richard Swindle, vice president at Franklin College (Indiana), wrote to recount his own experience with a clearness committee when he was making a particularly difficult career decision.  He says, "I will never forget the wonderful collection of folks who came to our home in Atlanta that day.  They were from various parts of our lives, and they were all ages.  The wisdom they offered was impressive.  No one told us what to do, they just helped us clarify some issues."  What a rare gift, methinks.

Steve Batson, chair-elect of the National Society of Fund Raising Executives and vice president at Georgia Southwestern State University, was heartened by the quote from Frederick Olmsted about "living for distant effects."  He writes, "…the hope that there will be some positive effect gives me great pleasure in doing now a myriad of things that I love.  The challenge becomes to do them well."  And to continue to hope, I might add.

Please let me know what you think.  Your thoughts help me decide what to include in future issues—I promise you, there is plenty of material!

 >>Subscription information<<

I remind you that subscriptions to Notes are simple to establish.  Send me an email at pribbenp@wabash.edu, ask to be added to the list, and you will receive a confirmation from the mailserver at Wabash College that you are on the list.  Please feel free to forward your email versions of Notes to others—they then can subscribe by contacting me.  I also am happy to send Notes as an MS Word attachment to an email, if that would make reading it easier for some of you.  Just let me know.  The current and archive issues of Notes are available on-line at www.jgacounsel.com.

REFLECT ON THIS

>>Reflective politics<<

I recently heard Scott Simon, the Saturday morning host on National Public Radio, recount a story about Adlai Stevenson, the Illinois Democrat who served as governor and U.S. senator before running as the Democratic nominee for president in 1952 and 1956.  At a campaign stop during the 1952 campaign, someone in the crowd yelled, "You've got the votes of all thinking people, Adlai," to which Stevenson is purported to have responded, "That won't be enough, I need a majority."

As we enter the political season some forty years later, perhaps we might hope that our politics could at least aspire to some reflection, some connection to the things we care about, some conversations of substance instead of sound bites.  But, alas, thinking remains a minority activity.  May the voices of our minority be heard above the din of politics as usual.

>>The disciplines of our lives<<

I have long been intrigued by the practices of spiritual formation, the disciplines that clergy-in-training learn as part of their seminary training.  I have learned in my own experience and from those who I trust and respect that formation is a crucial aspect of any life well lived.  Who are you?  How have you been formed and by whom?  What disciplines do you maintain as a means of on-going formation?

I believe that those of us in the professions need to think more deliberately about formation.  Professional disciplines may be the key to recovering a sense of the awe and wonder of the work we have the privilege to do.

A few years back, I wrote an essay titled "And we will teach them how: Professional formation and public accountability," (in "Critical Issues in Fund Raising," edited by D. Burlingame, New York: John Wiley & Sons, 1997) in which I argued that there are four central aspects to the professional disciplines.

First, the discipline challenges us to be imaginative and expansive in our ways of learning about ourselves, about our work, and about our world.  Though this discipline might involve traditional forms of professional education, it also might challenge us to participate in experiences that broaden our perspectives.  For example, how does my volunteer service to the local community foundation expand my understanding of the various motivations of the volunteers at my own institution?  This discipline also challenges us to make connections between literature and art and the work we do.  My experience working in an art school and museum taught me valuable lessons about the visual nature of learning, which I now use everyday in my work in a more "text-oriented" organization.

Second, the discipline challenges us to understand the need for silence as a way of freeing our weary minds to receive the humbling truths found in our everyday lives.  This is perhaps the most difficult discipline to grasp.  It is not necessarily about finding some quiet space.  Rather, it is about an attitude or openness to being quiet.  Silence is about genuine listening, I think.  We live in a noisy world, full of sounds and distractions.  The discipline of silence challenges us to listen, to pay attention, to be still and thereby open to the lessons of our ordinary experience.  We may need a quiet space to find the silence—we also need lots of practice, that is the nature of a discipline.  Only in the ordinary will we find the truths of the world that help us create the extraordinary.

Third, the discipline of professional formation presents a challenge to understand the role of solitude, of being alone, detached from normal routines, reliances, and roles.  If silence gives us knowledge of the world, solitude gives us knowledge of ourselves.  Solitude offers the moments when we can face our own self-deception and distortion.  Think of how easy it is to deceive ourselves with notions of our personal power or knowledge or expertise—all potentially damaging aspects of the professional persona.  Solitude offers opportunities to recapture humility.  Might we recover the genuine sense of retreats as opportunities for solitude, detached from the routines and roles that too often keep us from connecting with the passion and purpose of our lives?

Finally, the discipline of professional formation also challenges us to find a place in our lives for some sort of prayer.  This is a provocative claim, given the natural links to religious experience that prayer elicits.  For me, however, prayer is a metaphor for admitting that I do not understand everything that is happening around me.  Prayer is the form that knowledge takes when I accept responsibility for the fact that I cannot solve every problem, control every situation.  Prayer is the means by which I ask for help.  Prayer is a way of professing faith in something larger and wiser than my own powers.

>>Blending commerce with community<<

All of the exciting and mind-boggling progress in the world of e-business and e-communication certainly is a challenge to all of us as we strive to understand and integrate technological tools in service of organizational values and missions.

A recent article in the Winter 2000 issue of "Net Company," a quarterly supplement to "Fast Company," has a great article entitled, "Are You on Craig's List?" (pp. 026-034).  The article, which profiles Craig Newmark, a San Francisco-based online community organizer, offers this set of tips for our virtual organizing.

(1) Uncommonly good communities have members with common interests.  The interests are often mundane—we live in the same city or have the same job title or the same alumni class year—but they give the participants a common reference point.  For me, this tip is a reminder that our efforts to build virtual communities often suffer for our tendencies to try to offer something for everyone on our website.

(2) To generate strong connections, provide down-to-earth information.  Though we may be after communities of passionate conversation and interaction, ironically it all begins by giving people things to know that are useful to them.  So, for example, before I try to help a community discuss an important text or topic, I need to give community members access to information about everyday life that they will find useful for connecting with each other—perhaps news of a favorite professor's latest project, an update on classmates, and so on.  The down-to-earth information sets a context for further involvement.

(3) It's virtual and physical, not virtual or physical.  The online world is not a substitute for the physical world.  Virtual community participants also need opportunities to meet each other.  I can organize a wonderful, innovative virtual reunion for the class of 1991, but I also need to offer the members of that class plenty of opportunities to get together on campus.

(4) Think globally, act locally.  We should not push for on-line communities to grow unnaturally.  It is best to let them evolve organically.  We've found, for example, that our efforts to introduce online giving met with little initial excitement.  We could have pushed harder, marketed online giving more aggressively, but we didn't. And now, we're starting to see growth in activity that is an appropriate evolution of our audience's comfort level with the technology.  Our aspirations are still very global, but we're realistically incremental in our growth.  [Though incremental may be defined differently in the cyberworld.  I recently learned that WBEZ, the NPR affiliate in Chicago, met its pledge drive goal in record time by encouraging on-line gifts.  They reported that over 50% of their $400,000 total had been pledged on-line.]

I am struck by how these "rules" for establishing good virtual communities are equally helpful in building communities of any sort!

>>Leadership redux<<

The literature on leadership is rather overwhelming these days.  We get it in journals, newsletters, computer programs, websites, videos, videoconferences, etc.  So, what might the reflective leader want to think about?

The November 1999 issue of "Harvard Management Update" summed it up fairly well when it proposed "Three Skills for Today's Leaders."

First, strong leaders are able to handle ambiguity and tolerate uncertainty.  In other words, good leaders know that they can't control what is going on.  Instead, they must seek to understand and navigate the ambiguity.  That skill, it seems to me, requires a great deal of reflection and self-knowledge in a world that rewards action and control.

Second, strong leaders learn how to manage systems.  Complex systems, such as many of the organizations in which we work, are not linear. They are webs of relationships and dynamics that interact and connect in a variety of ways.  Good leaders must be able to understand and guide organizational change (inevitable as it is), even when complexity and pace are overwhelming.  My graduate students in nonprofit management used to refer to my initial presentation of organizational behavior as the chaos theory of management! There was some very real truth to that—our responsibility as good leaders and managers is to accept the chaos of complex systems and learn how to bring order out of the chaos in pursuit of organizational aims.  That requires lots of good reflection and thinking.

Finally, strong leaders recognize that leadership is all about sharing responsibility with an ever-expanding group of fellow workers.  Peter Block reminds us that "power comes from below" and good leaders (he calls them good stewards!) help those who have the power learn to use it well.  Our leadership, then, is about facilitating participation, learning, and accountability for all of those with a stake in our institution's mission and work.  This often means that our most important task is to keep a conversation going, to mediate dialogue, to help people think about and make sense of their work together.  In other words, to create a reflective organization.

PRACTICE TH IS

>>Integrity: crafting an ethics statement for your organization<<

An organizational (or departmental) ethics statement can be valuable, both as a finished document and for the process of reflection and collaboration that its creation occasions.

One way to commence a process that leads to such an ethics statement might be to use Stephen Carter's helpful framework described in his book, "Integrity"   (New York: Basic Books, 1998).  Carter reminds us that to be persons (or organizations) of integrity, we must take three general steps as we face moral decisions and dilemmas:

First, we must reflect on the values and relationships that are important to us and are at issue in the moral situations we face in our lives.

Second, we must act based on the values and relationships we have identified in our moral reflection.

Finally, we must be willing to be publicly accountable for both our moral reflection and action.  We must be able to describe and argue for the values we hold most deeply and the actions we have taken based on those values.

Carter's concern is that most Americans (at least) tend to forget the reflection and accountability demands of integrity.  Instead, we simply act.  We're a Nike society—"just do it" is our motto.

I wonder whether we might bring together representatives of our institutions to ask what we value as an organization, i.e., to reflect on our common values and relationships; to explore how and whether (or not) our moral activity is grounded in our common values; and then to consider the means by which we are accountable to various publics for our common values and moral activity.  Are we an organization with integrity?

Our reflections and deliberations might provide some important material for an organizational ethics statement.  And such a statement—aimed at describing and sustaining an organization with integrity—might just allow us to begin to struggle with the many cases where our missions and core values don't always get practiced in our day-to-day lives.

>>Administrative case rounds<<

I have long been intrigued by Stanley Reiser's concept of administrative case rounds as a strategy for using the discussion of specific situations in our organizations as opportunities to examine the links between organizational values and practices.  Adapted from the concept of medical case rounds, where a case is presented to a group of doctors and nurses from various specialties for discussion, administrative case rounds bring together diverse administrative, program, and board constituencies for discussions of cases that are of some common concern.

For example, here at Wabash, we used our development office stewardship plans and practices as a common theme for cross-departmental conversations.  Instead of bringing together just the usual suspects (from the development staff), we also invited representatives from the President's office, the Dean of Students office, and the admissions office, to join in a conversation about what stewardship means for our college.  They were fascinating conversations that resulted in both a better stewardship plan and a better sense across our campus of how stewardship is part of our common work.  Perhaps the best outcome was the off-hand comment from one member of the discussion group that she now understood how much of her job involved stewardship.  We had a convert.

For more about administrative case rounds, see Reiser's article "The Ethical Life of Health Care Organizations," (in the Hastings Center Report, November-December 1994, pp. 28-35).

PAY ATTENTION TO THIS

>>Some of my favorite books<<

One of my all-time best reads is Martha Nussbaum's "Poetic Justice: The Literary Imagination and Public Life" (Boston: Beacon Press, 1995), a reflection on her first couple of years teaching literature to law students at the University of Chicago.  She argues—in her always erudite and moving way—that literature and literary imagination can help us to understand and describe what Henry James once called "the record" of our public lives.  The literary imagination, she claims, is part of public rationality, the means by which we are able to concern ourselves with the good of other people whose lives are distant from our own.  Her point seems clear: Read a good book, recognize the common and not-so-common aspects of our humanity in the stories, and see the stories as a part of imagining a healthy public discourse and democracy. 

Many of us work with boards of trustees or directors.  Though there are many good books that offer advice on how to organize the work of boards, I have been most inspired by a wonderful book about trusteeship titled "Entrusted: The Moral Responsibilities of Trusteeship" by David H. Smith, professor of religious studies at Indiana University (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1995).  Smith describes his book as an extended essay intended for "reflective trustees," those men and women whose service as trustees and directors of nonprofit organizations has led them to seek to build communities of inquiry and interpretation.  He addresses the moral parameters of trusteeship. He comments on the sorts of problems trustees face as they struggle with organizational vocation.  And he concludes with three general duties of reflective trustees: reasonable support, standing for justice, and subordinating institutional self-preservation to mission.  Share this book with the trustee or director you know who cares enough to serve and wants to find the words to say why.

Finally, a variety of topics in this issue of Notes remind me of the powerful work of Michael Ignatieff, whose "The Needs of Strangers: An essay on privacy, solidarity, and the politics of being human," (New York: Penguin Press, 1984—out of print, I fear) is one of the most inspiring books I have ever read (and read, and read again).  [Ignatieff, a journalist and photographer, has chronicled many aspects of our modern experience, including war in the Balkans in his forthcoming "Virtual War: Kosovo and Beyond."]  Like Nussbaum, Ignatieff argues from literature for an understanding of the aspirations and needs of humans that might sustain common purpose and action.  Ignatieff reminds us, "We need justice, we need liberty, and we need as much solidarity as can be reconciled with justice and liberty.  But we also need, as much as anything else, a language adequate to the times we live in…We need words to keep us human…Without a public language to help us find our own words, our needs will dry up in silence."

We need to help each other recover the languages, the vocabularies, the images that are part of our common heritage and that promise an equally common future.

>>Topics for the next issue (April 2000)<<

*  What's the buzz about strategy?  The concept of strategy has received lots of attention in the management literature.  We'll look at some of the various theories of strategy and perhaps find that strategy is about doing what you do best, what you care most about, and what is most needed.

*  Lessons from our journeys.  Many of us travel a good bit in our work.  I've gleaned a few lessons from my travels, lessons that are part of expanding my perspective on life in the world.

* Linking leadership attributes with organizational results.  Does your organization have a "leadership brand," a way of leading that is most effective and appropriate for its values and work?  Recent work on "leadership brand" offers some interesting strategies for assessing the connections between desired results, leadership styles, and how we're doing.

(c) Paul Pribbenow, 2000