3.10 Stories of nurturance
Nurturance, with even just a little bit of depth to it, can make a very big difference in a person’s life and work.
When I coach activists, I focus first on nurturance. I do my best to be there for them in such a way that they can be there for themselves.
And then give themselves what they need…
So they can do what they need to do.
Here are seven stories to give you a feel for the kind of conversations that make this happen.
Zoe
When I began working with Zoe, she was struggling to get out of start-up mode with her nonprofit, which did policy work and lobbying on early childhood education. She was doing all the classic stuff, putting in the long hours, not getting enough help from her staff, and feeling resentment.
But all this was not sitting well with her. So we talked about what sustainability would look like, and once she got her own personal picture of it she was off and running.
Then one morning she called and said…
I’m an emerging leader.
Are you?
That’s what everybody tells me, meaning the other EDs in my field. And that’s how I’ve been thinking about myself. But sometimes I feel like I’m the pet. Like I’m a junior version of a leader and they’re the real leaders. It’s like, she’s so young and there she is running a nonprofit and isn’t that cute?
So, then?
So I don’t know. I don’t like it.
Let’s see: You started this organization yourself. In three years you’ve taken it from start up to soaring. You’ve now got staff you love and active Board members who adore you. You’re doing great work and you’re in the national spotlight for your work. True?
Absolutely true.
So are you done with being an emerging leader?
Wow. Yes, I am. I’ve accomplished way more than some of the people who talk down to me.
What do you need to do to own that you’re a full-fledged leader?
Hmmm, let me think…Okay, I know exactly what I need. I have three best friends and sometimes we go away for a long weekend to our favorite cabin in the Adirondacks. We’re going up there this weekend.
So I see us sitting together in this cozy spot we like by the lake, inside a circle of white pines and paper birches. You know how crazy I am about rituals, but this will be very simple.
We’ll each have a lighted candle and I’ll ask them to help me tell the story of my coming of age as a leader. They’ve been on this journey with me so they’ll have a lot to say.
I want them to take this step with me. To cross over with me. And when they do, that’s what will make it real for me.
Trudy
Trudy had a staff person, Jessica, who gossiped behind her back. She sniped at Trudy’s leadership style, how she wore her hair, and how she dressed. Trudy hated it but didn’t want to take the time to deal with it.
Then one day Jessica made a cutting comment about Trudy’s dog.
Trudy heard about it, called me, and said…
This is the last straw. I’m not putting up with this anymore. Nobody messes with Trixie.
For months Trudy had been pushing her anger aside. Suddenly here it all was. I started asking her questions. After a little while her anger shifted into sadness, and then she was speaking from her heart instead of her distress.
She said that Jessica did good work. It was only her attitude that sucked. And she actually liked Jessica, which is what made the snarky gossip especially hurtful.
I said…
How about a what-if? You told me that Jessica’s half your age and this is her first job out of college. It’s clear she’s seriously screwing up her own future as well as your mood.
Imagine you’re her aunt. You love her and you can see exactly how she’s making a mess of things at her job. What would you say to her? How would you reach through all the crap and get her to pay attention?
Keep in mind that you can fire her tomorrow if you need to, but what kind of conversation do you want to have with her today?
Trudy didn’t exactly know, so she role played a series of forthright conversations, trying out different approaches until one landed.
Then she said…
Okay, I’ve got it. I know what I need to say to Jessica, not as her boss, but what I, Trudy, need to say to her.
The next morning she called me and told me.
It worked! Being so personal and direct with Jessica threw her for a loop. She blurted out two things that are going on in her life and they’re both serious. She acts snippy and puffed up, but she’s just a scared kid.
She promised me that she would change her attitude and I believe she will because she was painfully honest about herself. She also knows that I won’t accept anything less.
I’m glad to get this settled. I don’t have time to go through the whole hiring thing right now.
“But what gets to me most is the difference it will make in Jessica’s life not to have been fired from her first job.
Morgan
She told me…
I’ve been the ED here for two years now. When our last ED left, the Board talked me into taking the job. They gave me the full-court press. It was impossible to tell them no. And I thought I should do this for the good of the organization.
But I have to tell you, I used to be a glass-half-full person and I’m not anymore. We’re doing really well. The programs are stronger than ever. The funding is as good as anyone could expect. And yet I’m not happy. I feel like Eeyore. But how can I go around complaining when things are good?
This morning I groaned as I picked up my briefcase to walk out the door. My husband looked at me with a big question mark on his face. A month ago he told me he misses me. He couldn’t explain what he meant, but it was unsettling.
So what should I do?
I asked Morgan to tell me a dozen stories of her best work moments from throughout her career.
Every one of them was a story about doing clinical work, either directly with clients or mentoring interns.
When I mentioned that fact, her eyes filled with tears…
I miss the direct work. So very much. We’re starting up two new programs. If I could have my choice, I’d be the one who runs them.
We talked about that for a few minutes.
Then she said…
But I can’t go back to clinical work. That’s going backwards. And this place depends on me.
I looked at her with a big question mark on my face.
Okay. Maybe I can. But what would people say?
What would you want them to say?
Be happy, Morgan. Do what you love doing.
The people who love you, how would they respond if they knew why you want to make this change?
They would support me. And my husband would cheer. He’d buy me presents to celebrate.
And what about the organization?
It will be a shock to them.
The staff you’ve hired over the last two years, what are they like?
Wonderful. That’s the thing I do best as ED. I’ve got a knack for recruiting the best people.
What if you used that talent to hire a new ED, someone who would love being ED and someone you’d love working with?
But wouldn’t she feel strange supervising the past ED? You’re not supposed to do that are you?
How good are your communication skills?
I think they’re really good. God knows I’ve spent years learning about good communication.
So do you think you could find someone with the moxie to be okay with you as clinical director? And who would talk things through with you if any feelings came up. And then together you could make sure the staff really get the change, so they make the transition too, instead of running on old habits.
I don’t see why not.
In my experience, the trouble comes when the past ED steps down but doesn’t let go.
That won’t happen with me. I’d be glad to dump it all on the new person at 9 a.m. on the first day.
So would you say you’ve got what it takes to do this transition?
Yes I do. I’m ready to step down from leadership.
What do you mean?
I’m stepping down. I’m not going to be a leader anymore.
How about reversing that for a minute? Tell me the ways you’re being a leader by making this transition.
Oh, well, I’m going to work with the Board to hire a new ED. That’s a big deal.
And?
I’m actually going to reshape this organization. It’s going to be even stronger after this change. That’s leadership.
And in your new position?
Oh, yeh, I forgot about that. I’m going to start up our two new programs. I’m going to hire eight young clinicians. I’m going to train them and supervise them. There’s going to be a whole lot of leading going on.
So you’re cool with all this?
Very cool. Perfectly cool. The minute we’re done here, I’m calling my Board Chair. No, I’m not. I’m calling my husband first and then my Board Chair. I need to give my husband time to go start buying me presents.
Gabriel
Gabriel was a program director who got into coaching to work on team building which I have to say it seemed to me he was already very good at. He jumped in with both feet and was making the kind of progress he wanted.
Then one morning he called and said…
Five minutes ago, I walked into Bob’s office and quit my job. I know we had it on the agenda to talk about my future later on, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I’ll be gone in two weeks.
This was easy to understand. Gabriel had brought in the biggest grant the organization had ever gotten and the ED found fault with him. Gabriel doubled the productivity of his department and the ED found things to criticize. In two years of working there, he never got one thank you from Bob and it had worn him down.
Gabriel immediately started looking for a new job. But the wind had been knocked out of his sails, so he set his sights very low. He was willing to take just about anything.
I asked him if I could give him a “slide show” of himself…
In the two months we’ve been coaching, you put together professional development plans with each of your staff and they’ve loved it.
They’ve each told you how much it means to them to work for you.
Three of them were in tears when you told them you were leaving.
People tell you that when you run meetings, they not only get a lot done, they have fun doing it.
You’ve been elected chair of the Board of Trustees at your church six years in a row. You’ve brought the church out of debt and it’s thriving.
A foundation officer told you that you were the most enjoyable person she’s worked with from any nonprofit ever.
I don’t know what to say.
Take a minute and get cozy with this picture of yourself. Don’t try to figure anything out yet, just be with this picture.
The truth is that I would like to be in charge of my work. I’d like to be the top leader. It really is true that people like it when I lead. Maybe I should look for an ED job. Or find an ED to work for who respects people as much as I do.
In this past job, I was like an artist making a beautiful painting and then someone has the right to come in and trash it.
You called me a people artist once, and maybe that’s true, because I like it when people enjoy each other instead of struggling against each other. I like bringing people together in service of something bigger. I like creating that kind of beauty in the world. And now I want to be able to protect it once I’ve created it.”
Jordan
I asked Jordan, a very successful ED, what he wanted next in his life.
What I want is impossible so I try not to think about it.
I’d really like to hear it if you’re willing to tell me.
If you’re willing to listen to mere fantasies, okay.
I suggested that he close his eyes as he talked so he could forget about the real world for a bit. I said, “Put your hand over your heart, take an easy breath, and listen. When you can hear your heart talking to you, just simply tell me the truth about what you want.”
He said…
I get rave reviews for the policy work I do. And that’s the part of the job I like best. That and my staff. I’m deeply bored with the administrative work.
I have daydreams about being in DC right in the middle of the policy work. Being there in person. I want to have a personal connection with the big-time policy mavens in my field.
When I fly back there for a day or two, I go with them to their late-night dinners where they have these rock-and-roll conversations. I never feel so alive as I do then. I want to be part of that circle. I want to have influence there.
But I don’t want to leave my place here. And I really don’t want to leave my staff. We’ve been through so much together. I can’t just walk out of here and start a new life.
I said, “I’m hearing two different needs, stay and go, both very strong. Imagine they’ve been strangers, but now you introduce them to each other and ask them to talk over their differences.”
Jordan’s enough of a ham that he did two different voices back and forth and in three minutes he had his conclusion.
Here’s the deal. I’m going to rent a tiny studio apartment in DC so I can live there for a couple months a couple times a year at the key times. I’ll keep my place here. We have one position vacant. I’ll shut it down and hire an operations director. Or maybe I’ll hire an ED and promote myself to president. It would be great to have that on my business card in DC.
Now that I’m allowing myself to want what I want, the details seem easy. Well, not easy, but doable. They’re not a problem.
Within six months, Jordan made a place for himself in that circle of colleagues. Within a year his increased presence in DC brought in a modest chunk of new funding to his organization, so the change was a financial gain instead of a loss.
And even though his staff get to see less of him, everyone gets to see more of him, meaning more of who he is and what he can do in the world.
Marybeth
In my first coaching session with her, she was so sad, and she told me…
I have to quit being the ED of this nonprofit. I’m failing. I don’t have what it takes to be a leader. I want you to help me transition out. And I have no idea what I’m going to do next. When I first started out as an activist, I loved it.”
I asked her to tell me about her days, how she spent her time, what she did hour by hour. And within a few minutes it was so obvious to me that she was deep into the sacrificial-savior way of leading.
So I told her that since she was trapped in sacrifice, this was not a fair test of her leadership ability, not at all, because sacrificing is in so many ways the very opposite of leading.
I said, “I’m really glad you’re failing. I’m glad you’re failing at sacrifice because it’s a terrible thing to succeed at.”
I asked her if she would be willing to do the work it would take to cross over to moral-fight, and then if she still didn’t like leading, I’d help her leave in a good way and find a new life for herself.
She agreed, and she did the work, and it was considerable, but before she was half done, she said…
Guess what? I love leading!
Genelle
Genelle called me one morning for her session and said…
I must be doing something wrong. I’m getting home on time. Actually, two days a week I leave early for my African Dance class. I’m about to take a three-week vacation on an island in a lake in Canada where there’s no phone and no e-mail. It’s the first time I’ll ever be out of touch with the office.
I’m still working hard and this job still has plenty of challenges, but I’m not stressing anymore, not like other EDs I know. I’m actually having fun being the leader. I feel weird. I feel wrong.
This was after a year and a half of sustained work transforming her nonprofit, bringing it from deep dysfunction and deficit to sustainability and surplus. A foundation president told Genelle, “I’ve never seen anyone turn an organization around like you have.”
So I asked her…
Do you feel wrong enough that you would give up this progress you’ve made and go back to how things were?
No way!
So what does that mean?
I guess it means I’m still feeling sector pressure, like I should be sacrificing, because if I I’m not then I’m not the kind of noble leader we’re supposed to be.
And your answer to that?
Leading like I’m leading is good for me and good for my organization.
And the sector?
I hadn’t thought about that. Yes, I’m doing a favor for the sector, too. Other leaders would do well to copy me instead of me copying them.
So you’re leading on two levels at the same time. Not only is what you’re doing good for you, you’re also a role model. You’re a meta-leader. You’re like a pioneer or something. There ought to be a name for this.
There is.
What?
Genelle!
