Notes for the
Reflective Practitioner

by Dr. Paul Pribbenow

Philanthropy is a journey. 

Let JGA be your guide.

Johnson, Grossnickle and Associates LLC
PO Box 576
Franklin, IN  46131
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jga@jgacounsel.com

 

Volume Two, Number One (October 2000)

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

(W. Wordsworth, from "The Prelude")

 NOTES FROM READERS

 >>What you think<<

This issue of my Notes marks the first anniversary of my efforts to share with a growing number of friends and colleagues some of the ideas, readings, musings, and words that inspire me, give me hope, and help me be a reflective practitioner.  I am grateful to all of you who take the time to read these occasional newsletters.  I know by your responses that some read the Notes as soon as they arrive, while others put them into that pile for weekend catch-up time or airplane trips.  You are a diverse group in so many ways, but what you share is a commitment to thinking about what you do and why.  I often receive substantive comments on topics raised in my Notes, which I appreciate greatly—I am always happy to share your comments with other readers.  But sometimes I also get other sorts of responses—responses that tell me important things about our shared commitments and concerns.  Sometimes you tell me:

  • “You made me think”, which may be the greatest compliment I could receive;
  • “You inspired me to go back and read something I read long ago (or wanted to read but never did)—something that has great meaning for me”; or,
  • “I passed your Notes along to my supervisor or board chair or colleague—and we had a good conversation about them.”

What I’ve been thinking about is how we might ever hope to overcome the short-sighted, negative images of philanthropy and fund raising that we find all around us (even among our professional colleagues), and I realized that we will never change those images with a broad-based public education effort (though there would be nothing wrong with such an effort).  Instead, we need to change ourselves—our own perceptions of what we do and why—and then, through our advocacy and example, we might begin to change those with whom we work—donors, volunteers, colleagues, fellow citizens.  Hank Rosso called it the “concentric circle” approach to philanthropy—it works for reflective practice as well.  It begins with you.

I am pleased once again to welcome many new subscribers to Notes—I hope you'll all be active members of our community of reflective practitioners.  Occasionally, I (or my colleagues) refer to 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 and Associates for their abiding support for our reflective practice.

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REFLECT ON THIS

>>Learning and difference <<

A graduate school colleague of mine recently suggested that we live in a moment of great tension in the world.  On the one hand, we marvel at the globalization of our lives, the breakdown of boundaries, the ease of communication and travel, the wonderful richness of life in various countries and cultures.  On the other hand, he pointed out, this also is a time when we are fixated on our differences, the things that separate us from each other, the ways in which we are not alike.  How ironic that as we are more and more able to participate in a global community, we also are more and more fragmented by our differences.

I have learned much about how I think about difference from the elegant writings of Mary Catherine Bateson, an anthropologist whose parents were Margaret Mead and Gregory Bateson.  Mary Catherine Bateson’s works include “Composing a Life” (Reissued in 1990, Plume Books) and “Peripheral Visions: Learning along the Way” (1994, HarperCollins).  In “Peripheral Visions,” Professor Bateson explores how “the quality of improvisation characterizes more and more lives today, lived in uncertainty, full of the inklings of alternatives” (p. 8).

Dr. Bateson spent many years living and teaching in Iran.  She talks about her initial visits to the Persian gardens of Iranian colleagues and how she learned to improvise in the gardens: “That day in the Persian garden has come to represent for me a changed awareness of learning pervading other activities.  Meeting as strangers, we join in common occasions, making up our multiple roles as we go along—young and old, male and female, teacher and parent and lover—with all of science and history present in shadow form, partly illuminating and partly obscuring what is there to be learned…We are largely unaware of speaking, as we all do, sentences never spoken before, unaware of choreographing the acts of dressing and sitting and entering a room as depictions of self, of resculpting memory into an appropriate past…What I tried to do that day (in the Persian garden), stringing together elements of previous knowledge, attending to every possible cue, and exploring different translations of the familiar, was to improvise responsibly and with love” (p. 6).

Improvising and learning—responsibly and with love—what a remarkable way of thinking about how we respond to diverse situations and people.  Read the passage again and again, let it sink in—it describes a way of life that looks a lot like reflective practice.

>>Teaching and the challenge of translation<<

I am teaching undergraduates this semester in a fascinating course called “Cultures and Traditions.”  The course is taught to all our sophomores, and surveys history, literature, and the arts in pursuit of a deeper understanding of abiding human questions.  It has been good fun and has occasioned reflection about how much of what we do as members of organizations is a form of teaching.  All of us teach—and learn—and in our teaching and learning we are part of a community that extends from classrooms to street corners to boardrooms to offices.  How wonderful.

I have been struck by how teaching is so much about translating ideas and values.  We teach so that those with whom we are engaged might share our excitement and passion for those ideas and values.  For example, when my students had trouble with the idea of myths and how they shape culture, we talked about Bobby Knight and the myth of basketball in Indiana.  Translation?!  A recent set of interviews in “Fast Company” (October 2000) confirms some important characteristics about this idea of teaching as translation:

  • Teaching is about helping to shape original ideas by reassembling knowledge in new ways;
  • Teaching is about creating networks of learning (in students’ minds and lives) that keep ideas and values alive well outside the classroom;
  • Teaching is about integrating assessment of how we’re doing into every aspect of learning—success or failure is determined every moment, not just at the end of the semester.
  • Teaching is about modeling a life that is infused with reflection and intellectual engagement.
  • Teaching is about moral imagination, finding in our subject matter the stuff to build a world, make a life, and rehearse a vision.
  • Teaching is about democracy, translating the sense of ownership and responsibility that each of our students must have to negotiate life in a healthy and vital society.

An apple for all you teachers.

>>Ensembles and companies: the arts and leadership<<

I had the privilege of serving for several years on the boards of directors for a dance company and a theater company in Chicago.  I always marveled at the ways in which the idea of an “ensemble” or “company”—the accepted way of describing a group of artists performing together—had important things to teach all of us about common purpose and organizational forms.

Several recent articles describe how the arts offer compelling models for leadership.  “Leadership Ensemble” (“Fast Company,” May 2000) tells the story of Orpheus, a chamber orchestra based at Baruch High School in Manhattan that performs without a conductor.  As the group rehearses for its public performances (and it performs in very distinguished settings), it practices self-governance and consensus building that have become a metaphor for structural change.  The article describes how Orpheus has learned important things about motivation (a sense of intimacy and connectedness that brings great satisfaction to individual members); decision-making (everyone serves as a leader, but not all at the same time…leadership is passed around); performance (listening carefully to each other often leads to random acts of leadership…orchestra members show leadership by adapting, offering constructive criticism, and taking on new roles); and work (successful performances without a conductor require intense and hard work—everyone must do his or her part for the group to be successful).

In a different direction, Henry Mintzberg, a professor at McGill University in Montreal, writes in the “Harvard Business Review” (November-December 1998) of how managing professionals and knowledge workers can be informed by the experience of orchestra conductors.  He describes how orchestra conductors must deal with the lack of control—control and structure often come from the guild of musicians or professionals—conductors may direct, but they don’t necessarily control.  Conductors also must learn to provide covert leadership—genuine leadership may be more invisible than we think.  Orchestra conductors also know that the culture of an organization is imbedded in the system—leadership does not need to focus so much on individuals but on sustaining the cohesion of the culture of an organization.  Finally, orchestra leaders know that they must manage “all around”—a word here with that second chair viola player, an alliance with important outsiders, picking up an instrument yourself and playing it as you want others to play it—these are the various ways in which leadership is practiced among professionals.

At the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, where I taught nonprofit arts management, I also learned that sometimes words weren’t the most effective tools for leading an organization.  An image, a picture, an event, and a performance—perhaps all of us need to expand our repertoire!

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PRACTICE THIS

>>Fallacies we live by<<

As an ethicist, I know of many fallacies that plague theories about morality and moral argument.  We use them all the time to justify behavior and the decisions we make.

A fascinating article in the U.S. Airways “Attache” magazine (April 1999), entitled “Name that Fallacy,” pointed out the sorts of fallacies that are often used in business meetings to persuade, defy logic, make excuses—you name it.  The author suggests that by leaving these fallacies unchallenged, we allow the disruption of the process of getting from an accepted starting point to an agreed conclusion.  He recommends that conversations will be more successful and genuine if we learn to recognize and challenge fallacies that are meant to keep us from finding common ground.

Among the most often-used fallacious strategies:

  • Begging the question—to assert a conclusion based on a premise that already is the same conclusion.  “I am telling the truth, therefore I am not lying.”
  • Slippery slope—a staple of political rhetoric that uses precedent setting as an excuse for justifying both action and non-action.  “If I do this for you, I’ll have to do it for everyone,” which, of course, is not at all the case.
  • Unrepresentative sample—many of us seeking to advocate for our causes make claims based on the individual opinions that support our position.  “Bear in mind that a squeaky wheel is an unrepresentative sample even on a bicycle.”
  • False analogy—just because it bears some resemblance to the situation at hand, it is not necessarily analogous.  “Deficit spending by the government, for instance, is not the same as deficit spending by a family of four.”  They are separate situations that require separate analysis.
  • The ad hominem—personal attack in place of constructive argument.
  • The ad vericordium—the appeal to expertise.  “Do you have a degree in that subject—if not, I don’t need to listen to you?"
  • The ad populum—the appeal to popularity.  “But boss, everyone is doing it.”
  • The ad misericordium—the appeal to pity.  “If you give me a bad evaluation, I won’t get my raise and my family will go hungry.”
  • The false dilemma—presenting only two options when there are others.
  • The complex question—reducing an inquiry requiring several answers into just one loaded question.  “Have you stopped cheating on your expense reports?”

Examine yourself, O fallacious ones—and then begin to listen for all of the ways in which good conversation and common work is undercut by fallacies that go unchallenged.

>>Trust me, if you are able<<

I have written here before of the centrality of trust to the well being of communities and organizations.  It is such an elusive part of our common lives, but so essential.  Sociologist Robert Bellah and his associates write in “The Good Society,” (1991, Alfred Knopf) that “Trust…is never to be taken for granted.  In our relation to the world, trust is always in conflict with mistrust…(and) if we are dominated by mistrust we cannot attend or interpret adequately, we cannot act accountably, and we will rupture, not strengthen, the solidarity of the community or communities we live in.  But how can we trust?” (p. 284)

To this question—and it is the question we must struggle with—the “Harvard Management Update” (Vol. 5, No. 1, September 2000) offers some very concrete suggestions for building trust in organizations.

First, we must be able to describe some of the forms that trust takes in an organization.  They suggest three:

  • Communication trust (or trust of disclosure), the extent to which employees are willing to share information;

  • Contractual trust (or trust of character), employees’ faith in one another’s integrity and ability to keep agreements; and,

  • Competence trust (or trust of capability), employees’ respect for one another’s abilities.

If these three types of trust are evident in organization—and they can be nurtured—we will begin to build what the authors call “transactional trust,” the relationships of trust that undergird healthy and successful organizations.

  But once we can describe the individual and organizational forms that trust takes, we are still left with the question of how to build trust when it is not there.  The authors point to three key steps—admittedly still a bit sketchy, but we must begin somewhere.

(1)    Develop your own capacity for trust first.  Learn to depend on yourself, and others will perceive and respond to you as a trustworthy person.  If, on the other hand, you do not have the confidence of your abilities or convictions, others may share your lack of trust.

(2)    Build trust behaviorally and incrementally.  Don’t trust too little or too much, without evidence that trust is warranted.  Celebrate and reward trustworthy behavior; hold colleagues responsible for untrustworthy actions.  Don’t expect or put faith in large leaps of trust—trust builds and sustains itself more fully when it happens incrementally.

(3)    Tackle betrayal head-on.  Mistrust is natural—and sometimes healthy.  People will betray us.  We will learn more about how to trust if we work through betrayals in a healthy way.  Don’t deny that it happened, face it and learn from it.

All of us have many trusts to keep—with each other, colleagues, donors, the public.  When you experience trust, recognize and celebrate it for it is a gift that all of us must care for.  Bellah joins the great Czech playwright and citizen of the world, Vaclav Havel, in challenging us to be “ambassadors of trust in a fearful world.”  Maybe then we can hope to build a good society!

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PAY ATTENTION TO THIS

>>Some new resources<<

Who knows how we arrive on all these various listservs and the like, but occasionally I’m pleased to be included.

For the past few months, I’ve been receiving an interesting email newsletter entitled “Observations in Philanthropy.”  It is produced by an organization called ChangingOurWorld.com, at whose website you can subscribe.  The newsletter offers some solid, accessible analysis of trends in philanthropy, suggestions for other philanthropy-related links, and so forth.  Recent topics included a nice multi-part series on “venture philanthropy.”  Check it out.

Here at Wabash, we have established a new Center of Inquiry in the Liberal Arts, funded (as I may have mentioned last issue) by a generous grant from Lilly Endowment.  We are excited by the possibility of building public awareness of what the liberal arts is and why it is important.  Our first promotional venture is an email newsletter that we hope to launch in November.  Called LiberalArtsOnline, it will offer occasional comments on public issues that relate to the liberal arts.  I will subscribe all of you to LiberalArtsOnline unless you ask me not to—it should stimulate an intriguing conversation, led by some distinguished voices—about teaching, learning, and living in the 21st century.

>>California dreaming<<

Thanks to those of you who kindly responded to my call for poetry.  My friend, Joe Price, who teaches religion and serves as special assistant to the president at Whittier College in California, sent along several good poems.  Joe is a wonderful teacher and one of the most entrepreneurial academics I’ve ever met.  One of his continuing projects is his effort to sing the national anthem in every major league baseball park.  He’s getting close to meeting his ambitious goal, helped a bit by his work on a new book, “After the Final Out: Rituals of Closure at Baseball Stadiums,” which has enabled him to procure press credentials!  I told you he was entrepreneurial.

My favorite of Joe’s recommended poems is from Tony Hoagland’s collection, “Donkey Gospel” (1998, Graywolf Press) and is entitled “Self-Improvement.”  Here are a few stanzas:

“Sometimes we are asked

to get good at something we have

no talent for,

or we excel at something we will never

have the opportunity to prove.

 

Often we ask ourselves

to make absolute sense

out of just what happens,

and in this way, what we are practicing

 

is suffering,

which everybody practices,

but strangely few of us

grow graceful in.”

We read Job in my class last week and talked a good bit about growing graceful in the exigencies of our lives.  We all have so much to learn.  Thanks, Joe.

>>Subscription information<<

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.

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

  • Wendell Berry on distrusting movements—a minority, but compelling, argument against joining up, and a fascinating call to the domestic arts
  • Some of my ideas on philanthropy as a calling—testing some hypotheses and looking for feedback
  • A holiday look at the ways in which our organizations are full of symbols—intended and not—that shape culture and make a difference

(c) Paul Pribbenow, 2000