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Volume
One, Number Five (June 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<<
I
received some thoughtful responses to the last edition of Notes.
Simone Joyaux—whose own reflection and writing has been of great
benefit to many of us in the philanthropic community—comments on
several
issues.
On Jedediah Purdy's criticism of the philosophy of "Fast
Company,"
she says: " Why do we assume that fast and reflective are
mutually
exclusive?…Why are not-for-profit organizations so arrogant
that
they think they are not part of the world, not part of
ever-changing
reality? Why are so many
not-for-profits (and their
leaders)
not leading but rather focusing on entitlement, my mission
justifies
my existence even though my mission is not sufficiently
relevant
to those I serve or to the community?"
Good question. She
also
recommends—and I am happy to confirm her recommendation—that we
look
at her "Strategic Fund Development: Building Profitable
Relationships
That Last" (Aspen Publishers, 1997) as an extension of our
conversation
about what it means to be an effective organization: to
think,
question (ask the right questions—check out The Right Question
Project,
which teaches the disenfranchised how to ask the right
questions
and position themselves as more effective civic participants),
manage
change, and build relationships.
Kris Kindelsperger, vice president at
Hanover College (Indiana),
responds
to my lessons from my journeys by adding two of his own, good
lessons
from his travels: (1) Allow yourself to be amazed by the variety
of
ways in which people make a living in society; and (2) never take for
granted
the really fine people with whom we come into contact with in
our
travels as "development folks"—their warmth, generosity, and
hospitality
"makes the longest day of calls enjoyable and sustains the
spirit
for the next day." Well
said.
New
subscriber, Kevin Sullivan, director of development at The
Hickman,
a
Quaker-sponsored residential and assisted living community, recommends
that
we all look at Francis Kane's "The Absent Patient: A Meditation on
a
Chardin Painting" (Cambridge Quarterly of Healthcare
Ethics, Winter
2000),
where he explores the meaning and importance of attentiveness in
the
health care professions. Sullivan
suggests that Kane's article is
relevant
to fund raisers who are seeking to understand the relationship
between
care (or philanthropy) and technique.
As Sullivan says, "It is
simply
asking ourselves 'what are we doing when we take care of someone
else
in need? What are we doing
when we ask for a gift to aid those our
organizations
serve?'"
I
welcome the many new subscribers to Notes—I hope you'll all be active
members
of our community of reflective practitioners.
Occasionally, I
(or
my colleagues) reference items from previous issues of Notes.
If
you
have not been a subscriber previously, and wish to review our
conversations,
past issues of Notes are available on-line at
www.jgacounsel.com.
I thank my friends at Johnson, Grossnickle &
Associates
for their abiding support for our reflective practice.
This
issue of Notes has a slightly different format than past issues.
I
have
recently completed an article entitled "Pursuing Accountability:
Organizational
Integrity, the Advancement Profession, and Public
Service,"
written for the new "CASE International Journal of Educational
Achievement."
In a sense, the entire article is a set of notes for
reflective
practitioners. I have
abridged the original article
somewhat,
and present it here for your reflection as an extended essay
about
pursuing accountability in our work.
I welcome your reactions.
******
REFLECT
ON THIS
>Pursuing
accountability<
Most
of us who work in philanthropic organizations know what it means to
have
accountability imposed upon us. Whether
by funding agencies, our
boards
of directors, an accrediting organization, the media, or some
other
form of public scrutiny, we are asked to gather and interpret
data,
prepare reports, and monitor measurements and benchmarks.
I
believe
that this work of measuring and reporting how we are doing is a
crucial
aspect of leadership—so crucial, in fact, that I think we have a
moral
obligation to pursue it rather than to wait for someone to ask us
to
do it. We need to pursue
accountability.
As
leaders in philanthropic organizations, I believe that we bear
special
obligations for helping to position assessment, not primarily as
a
tool of organizational effectiveness, but as a responsibility of
building
and sustaining organizational integrity and earning the public
trust.
Our roles—as those who do their work on the boundaries between
our
organizations and the wider society—offer us the opportunity to
model
assessment as a way of institutional life and to communicate our
findings
to an ever-broadening public that has a right to know how we're
doing.
Pursuing
accountability, then, is a claim upon us to build organizations
that
have integrity. I have
written in a previous issue of Notes about
the
work of Stephen Carter, a law professor at Yale
University, who
offers
a helpful framework for exploring the nature of integrity and
accountability.
Carter suggests that integrity—moral soundness or
rightness—is
accomplished by adhering to a three-step framework. Though
Carter's
work focuses primarily on the integrity of individuals, I find
that
his framework is relevant to institutional life as well.
Carter
says that the first step in ensuring integrity is to be
reflective
about the values, principles, traditions, and context that
are
relevant to a given situation. We
must integrate reflection and
thinking
into our decision-making process. Institutionally,
this means
that
we must build reflective organizations and offices.
The
second step in ensuring integrity is to make decisions and act based
on
our reflection. If our
thinking as an institution is sound, it will
inform
our actions. We must be
able to recognize the links between
reflection
and action. There are two
potential problems with securing
these
links. The first problem is
that we act without reflection. It
is
the Nike model of life: "just do it."
The second problem is that we
fragment
our thinking from our practice. All
of our institutions have
lofty
missions and statements of core values.
How many of us would say
that
life in our organization is healthy and humane? The disconnect
between
our missions and the reality of daily life—how we treat people,
how
conflict is handled, the fairness and equity of policies, and so
forth—is
an example of how reflection, as lofty and well-intentioned as
it
might be, can become fragmented from actual practice. If the
connection
between reflection and practice is not evident, then
institutional
integrity is compromised.
The
final step in ensuring integrity, after securing the links between
reflection
and action, is the willingness to be publicly accountable for
both
our reflection and our actions. In
other words, it is not good
enough
to think and act, we also must pursue accountability, be willing
to
argue for and justify the substance of our reflection and the
implications
of our actions. We must be
willing to be judged by
others—perhaps
judged as wrong-headed or poorly prepared or even
immoral—if
we are to sustain our integrity.
Just
how might we build organizations that have integrity and pursue
accountability?
Allow me to describe an effort we have made at Wabash
College,
where we have developed an assessment program for the
advancement
office (which includes development, alumni affairs,
publications,
and public affairs) which aims at promoting institutional
integrity
and public accountability for our work.
The
assessment program is quite simple.
It began with a general staff
discussion
of the purpose of our work as an advancement office. Out of
those
discussions came an office mission statement:
"To
create in society a broader understanding of the special mission and
values of Wabash College, to extend and strengthen its remarkable
philanthropic
tradition, and to secure the necessary good will,
participation,
and financial support to assure its continuing presence
and
role in service to society."
The mission we drafted set forth
three strategic objectives:
(1)
To ensure that the various audiences of Wabash College, both within
the
college community and outside, are responsibly informed about and
engaged
in the mission-based work of the college.
(2)
To enhance and extend the public image of the purpose and roles of
Wabash
College, and to ensure that this image is grounded in the mission
of
the college.
(3)
To build upon the tradition of strong philanthropic support for
Wabash
College by organizing fund raising initiatives that are
constituent-oriented
and focused on strengthening the college at its
core.
With
the mission and strategic objectives defined, we then developed a
set
of indicators or measures related to each of the three strategic
objectives.
These measures were the means by which we intended to track
activities,
systems, and outcomes within our functional offices as they
pertained
to the objectives. A quick
review of the strategic objectives
might
lead to the conclusion that each objective had one primary
function
as its aim. The first
objective was for alumni affairs, the
second
for public affairs, and the third for development. It was
crucial
to us that this stereotypical division of labor not be
perpetuated
in the assessment program. As
we defined assessment
measures
or indicators, therefore, we were careful to show how the work
of
all three functional offices was related to each of the three
objectives.
For
me, the power of this assessment program is not so much in the
statement
of our office's purpose and objectives, or in the indicators
themselves;
rather, I think that it is how the assessment program has
promoted
an ongoing conversation among staff about what is important to
us
(reflection); how we will organize programs, deploy resources, and
manage
our work (action); and what it means to take responsibility for
our
thinking and activity (accountability).
I want to highlight just a
few
of the results of those conversations that illustrate how the
assessment
program has helped us to address issues of institutional
integrity
and accountability.
The
first result is hinted at in the integrated approach to thinking
about
indicators. Advancement
offices can easily slip into the trap of
a
"silo" approach to our important work. The alumni affairs office is
responsible
for this program, and no one else needs to worry about it.
The
development office raises money, so what does public affairs care?
And
so on. In our office, the
key principle is that fluidity between
our
various offices is a sign of abundance. Philanthropy (or alumni
affairs,
or public affairs) is common work, shared by all of us.
The
integrating
of the indicators illustrated that each office and each
staff
member had responsibility for all aspects of our mission.
On a
day-to-day
basis, this is not always easy to accomplish, but as an
aspiration
(and supported by needing to measure the connections between
our
various programs and responsibilities), I am more and more hopeful
that
this vision of common work will be achieved.
Our society—and our
institutions—tend
to see the world through the lens of scarcity.
There
is
never enough time or money or people, and because there is not
enough,
I need to protect what I have or someone will take it away.
The
perspective
of abundance, on the other hand, suggests that there is more
than
enough to go around and if we are imaginative and resourceful in
our
common efforts, we can accomplish more than we ever thought
possible.
It works that way.
The
second result of the assessment program that I think is exciting
involves
the means by which we interpret our findings.
With the
assessment
program in place (as it has been for almost four years),
there
is on going information gathering and data reporting. We all
learn
from our measuring and benchmarking, and as we learn we adjust and
refine
programs as appropriate. This
means that assessment has become
an
integrated part of our work, not simply something we do once a year
to
satisfy some formula. In
addition, the office senior staff is asked
three
or four times a year to think about measures that they feel are
especially
worthy of review or discussion. We
bring these findings to
the
table and look for any threads or consistent themes they suggest.
This
process leads to some fascinating conversations and occasionally,
to
an intriguing interpretation of some previously unconnected
indicators.
For example, after the first public year of our campaign,
we
linked together a wide range of findings to determine that a fairly
radical
reinterpretation of the Wabash College "community" was
occurring
and
we were able to think about how we could best serve this evolving
definition
of community. Findings
about the fit between our advancement
communications
and their intended audiences, the role of volunteers, the
growing
diversity of audiences we served, and on-campus trust and
communications
issues between advancement staff and the rest of the
college
community, all helped us to recognize a much broader issue of
concern
to our college.
The
final result of the assessment program is how we communicate what we
learn—in
other words, how are we publicly accountable for the gifts we
have
been given? The
accountability claim is critical. In
line with
Carter's
three-step framework for ensuring integrity, we have done a
good
job of building a reflective office and of acting based on our
reflection,
but how we communicate our reflection and actions ensures
that
we truly are pursuing institutional integrity.
One example of how
we
pursue accountability is related to our interpretation of findings
described
above. When we posited the
evolving definition of community
as
an interpretation of various indicators, it was not enough for the
senior
staff to work with that finding in isolation.
As part of our
institutional
assessment program, each college officer must present
his/her
assessment report to the President's staff on a regular basis.
When
I brought the advancement assessment report to the President's
staff
and shared the findings about our community, it prompted a very
candid
and important conversation about the complicity and
responsibility
of other parts of the college community in the finding.
Subsequently,
this finding proved very helpful in strategic planning
discussions
as we looked for ways to respond as an institution to an
evolving
community.
Our
assessment program is by no means seamless.
It is, however, an
example
of how a few advancement professionals in this small college are
attempting
to live out the claims of integrity and accountability.
We
trust
that our example—and our abiding commitment to the broader
purposes
of our work: called to public service, aware of the claim of
stewardship,
and dedicated to keeping our promises—might offer a glimpse
of
how those of us who care about philanthropy can help to build and
sustain
more vital and humane institutions and communities.
******
PRACTICE
THIS
>Emotional
competence at work<
I
am intrigued by the work of Daniel Goleman, who teaches at Rutgers
University,
and who has brought to popular attention the theories of two
academic
psychologists, John D. Mayer and Peter Salovey, in his two
books,
"Emotional Intelligence" (Bantam, 1995) and "Working with
Emotional
Intelligence" (Bantam, 1998).
In a 1998 article in the
"Harvard
Business Review," entitled "What Makes a Leader?"
(November-December
1998), Goleman provides a very helpful summary of his
basic
premise, which is "that the most effective leaders are alike in
one
crucial way: they all have a high degree of what has come to be
known
as emotional intelligence….Without it, a person can have the best
training
in the world, an incisive, analytical mind, and an endless
supply
of smart ideas, but s/he still won't make a great leader."
What is emotional intelligence? Goleman
describes it in five
components:
(1)
Self-awareness: the ability to recognize and understand your moods,
emotions,
and drives, as well as their effect on others.
The hallmarks
of
self-awareness include self-confidence, realistic self-assessment,
and
a self-deprecating sense of humor.
(2)
Self-regulation: the ability to control or redirect disruptive
impulses
and moods, and the ability to think before acting. The
hallmarks
of self-regulation are trustworthiness and integrity, comfort
with
ambiguity, and openness to change.
(3)
Motivation: a passion to work for reasons that go beyond money or
status,
and the ability to pursue goals with energy and persistence.
The
hallmarks include a strong drive to achieve, optimism (even when
faced
with failure), and organizational commitment.
(4)
Empathy: the ability to understand the emotional make-up of other
people,
and skill in treating people according to their emotional
reactions.
Hallmarks are expertise in building and retaining talent,
cross-cultural
sensitivity, and service to clients and customers.
(5)
Social skill: proficiency in managing relationships and building
networks,
and an ability to find common ground and build rapport.
Hallmarks
might be effectiveness in leading change, persuasiveness, and
expertise
in building and leading teams.
I
don't know about you, but just about every position description I read
(and
write) these days (especially for senior leadership jobs) includes
most
of the components of emotional intelligence, as described by
Goleman.
But how many folks actually have EI, as proponents call it,
and
can it be learned? What is
your emotional competence quotient?
You'll
have to read Goleman for those answers, but suffice it to say
that
it is powerful material. For
a very interesting summary of the
emotional
intelligence movement (which includes Goleman and others), you
also
might want to see "How do you feel?" in
"Fast
Company" (June 2000).
>Innovation
and communities of practice<
The
concept of "communities of practice" is popping up a good bit
in the
management
literature these days as a part of how organizations might
foster
innovation. Communities of
practice are informal groups (say, a
group
of your major gifts officers or information technology staff) who
get
together regularly to share knowledge and solve one another's
problems.
Unlike teams, they're self-selected; they operate without
formal
managerial oversight, and they rarely have an explicit mission.
The
basic premise behind the idea of a community of practice is that
knowledge
is social and that it is best exchanged face-to-face. The
literature
says that communities of practice can be identified,
encouraged,
and even supported. You may
already have them at work in
your
organization and they quite likely are applying their common
knowledge
to their daily work—saving money, making things happen,
solving
problems, finding economies of scale.
Be on the lookout.
For
more information, see "Communities of Practice: The Organizational
Frontier,"
by Etienne Wenger and William M. Snyder in the "Harvard
Business
Review" (January-February 2000)
>Smart
questions<
Finding
good talent for our institutions seems like an increasingly
difficult
task. Perhaps we're asking
the wrong questions as we attempt
to
determine if someone will be a good fit and add value to our
organization.
Colleen Aylward, a web recruiter, shared "Ten Smart
Questions"
to ask in interviews if you wish to get the information you
need
about an individual's experience and potential ("Fast
Company,"
June
2000).
(1)
Take me through a time when you took a project from start to implementation.
(2)
Describe the way you work under tight deadlines.
(3)
Describe how you work under tough managers.
(4)
What is your definition of working too hard?
(5)
Persuade me to move to your city.
(6)
How do you manage stress?
(7)
What kinds of opportunities have you created for yourself in your
current
position?
(8)
In a team environment, are you a motivator, a player, a leader, or
an
enthusiast?
(9)
In the past three years, what part of your professional skill set
have
you improved most?
(10)
If you were a new employee, what would you do to gain respect from
peers
in 30, 60, or 90 days?
******
PAY
ATTENTION TO THIS
>>Weaving
the social fabric<<
I
have the privilege to lead many workshop sessions around the country
with
my colleagues who are seeking to be reflective practitioners, and
find—without
exception—that my reading of a selection by the NYU
cultural
theorist, Neil Postman, elicits great enthusiasm. Postman has
penned
many scholarly works, but a one-page glimpse of his thought,
found
in the pages of The Utne Reader (July-August 1995), is
particularly
meaningful. Postman writes:
"Like
the sorcerer's apprentice, we are awash in information without
even
a broom to help us get rid of it. Information
comes
indiscriminately,
directed at no one in particular, in enormous volume,
at
high speeds, severed from import and meaning.
And there is no room
to
weave it all into fabric. No
transcendent narratives to provide us
with
moral guidance, social purpose, intellectual economy. No stories
to
tell us what we need to know, and what we do not need to know."
This,
then, is the problem we have to confront with as much intelligence
and
imagination as we can muster….we will need to consult our poets,
playwrights,
artists, humorists, theologians, and philosophers, who
alone
are capable of creating or restoring those metaphors and stories
that
give point to our labors, give meaning to our history, elucidate
the
present, and give direction to our future.
They are our weavers,
and
I have no doubt that there are men and women among us who have the
looms
to weave us a fabric for our lives."
It
reads like a mission statement for all of us poets and philosophers.
>Speaking
of poets<
The
pursuit of what links us together—our common life—is an elusive
task,
but one on which we must never give up.
The poet, William
Stafford,
suggests in several stanzas from his "A Ritual to Read to Each
Other"
just how complicit each of us may be in not finding the ground we
hold
in common:
"If
you don't know the kind of person I am
and I don't know the kind of person you are
a
pattern others made may prevail in the world
and
following the wrong god home we may miss our star.
For
there is many a small betrayal in the mind,
a
shrug that lets the fragile sequence break
sending
with shouts the horrible errors of childhood
storming
out to play through the broken dike."
…..
For
it is important that awake people be awake,
or
a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the
signals we give—yes or no, or maybe—
should
be clear: the darkness around us is deep."
Postman's
prose addresses the light in our midst—Stafford's poetry
reminds
us that the darkness is close at hand.
Be vigilant, my friends.
>>Subscription
information<<
Subscriptions
to Notes are simple to establish. Send
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ask to be added to the list, and you will receive a confirmation
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Please feel free to forward your email versions of Notes to
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then can subscribe by contacting me.
I also am happy to
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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.
>>Topics
for the next issue (August 2000)<<
*
What is the role of research in building a community of reflective
practitioners?
What strategies might we employ as we seek to engage
each
other and our colleagues in a dialogue between what we do and what we
learn from formal research?
*
The etiquette of democracy and our efforts to build and sustain
healthy
organizations.
Is it really
all about good manners?
*
What are the commitments by which you manage?
Can certain commitments
be
distracting to our organizations? Can
others help us to see more
clearly
what we must do and why?
(c)
Paul Pribbenow, 2000
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