Monday, January 27, 2014

Putting Something Unfinished Out There

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Eight weeks ago, in You Are Not Innovative, I had a bit of an argument with myself--chastising myself for not doing all that I could to set a truly innovative example for my association. In the post, I leveled three essential charges against myself, including:

You talk about the need to learn more about the environment your members operate in, but you don't do it. You never go out into that world to capture any useful intelligence.

Which I dealt with in more detail six weeks ago in Capturing Useful Intelligence, and:

You talk about engaging your members in the development process of a new program or service, but you don't do it. All your ideas are kept safe and pristine within the four walls of your office.

Which I dealt with in more detail two weeks ago in Engaging Members in Your Development Process, and:

...you talk about putting something unfinished out there--some prototype of some half-formed idea to see what your members can do or create with it--but you don't do that either. You haven't the resources, or the organizational support, or the courage, to do something with that much risk associated with it.

Which I want to expand upon this week. I've been protesting in these follow-up posts that I had been intentionally hard on myself in that original post. It was partly to make the point about how difficult these things are, but, in this last case, I think the criticism is actually the most justified.

Truth be told, I don't put prototypes or unfinished ideas out in front of my members to see what they can do with them. I believe that very few of us do. And why is that? Refer to the reasons listed in my original post.

You haven't the resources...

What do I mean by resources? Is that money? Well, yes, more money would certainly help, but I'm actually talking about a more precious resource here--the thoughtful attention of your members.

How much time does your average member spend interacting with your association? It probably varies by organization, but I'd bet most association leaders are not satisfied with their organization's honest answer.

I think there's a natural tendency to capitalize on this precious resource, and too often that means only putting your best foot forward in every interaction. This may be the only time I talk to this member this year. Wouldn't I rather connect her to something I know provides value instead of some wild experiment?

The problem with this line of thinking is that for some members, the chance to try something new, to tinker with something and help make it better for their industry or profession--that's exactly the kind of value they're looking for.

or the organizational support...

This one runs deep. One person can't do this alone. One person putting unfinished work out there will be labeled a lunatic, risking the brand image and identity of the association.

If you're going to run open experiments in front of your members, the whole organization has to be behind it. The CEO has to talk about it. The Board has to accept it. The line staff have to do it. The members have to embrace it. If any one of these pieces isn't aligned, there will be dashed expectations, and someone will get fired or someone will quit.

or the courage, to do something with that much risk associated with it.

And if that's the situation you are in, then courage is an absolute necessity. Sticking your neck out is never comfortable, but if you believe change is necessary, then stick it out you must, because change won't come without it.

My advice? Start small. Find some of the members I mentioned above. The ones who like to tinker and want to try something new. Maybe you only need one. Get together and talk about something that isn't working in your organization and solicit their help in addressing it. Whatever they say, find a way to do it. Not in a big way, not plastered on the front page of your magazine, but in a small way, a guerrilla way, on your own, without help from anyone else. Maybe it's not even a program at that point. Maybe it's just a document--a document with a combination of words on it that no one has every suggested before.

Then, share it with another member. Get their feedback on it. Adapt and advance the concept. Repeat and keep repeating.

If you do it consistently, you'll realize two things. First, the thing you're working on will never be finished. At some point it will turn into an actual program, but it will always be open to another interaction and another interpretation. And second, that's a good thing. Believe it or not, putting something unfinished out there will become not just less scary, but enjoyable and productive for everyone involved.

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This post was written by Eric Lanke, an association executive, blogger and author. For more information, visit www.ericlanke.blogspot.com, follow him on Twitter @ericlanke or contact him at eric.lanke@gmail.com.


Saturday, January 25, 2014

Emily by Eric Lanke

A little while ago, I made my novel, Columbia, available for download from this blog.

Columbia is the story of Theodore Lomax, a nineteen-year-old Union solider in the American Civil War, and as committed as any to the ideal of human freedom. After being assigned to the army of William Tecumseh Sherman, shortly after the general’s infamous March to the Sea, he willingly participates in the destruction of civilian property in Columbia, South Carolina, believing his acts are justified by Southern resistance to the Northern cause of emancipation. But when the destruction escalates into violence against the civilians themselves, he becomes disillusioned, and feels compelled to strike out in opposition to his own countrymen.

The novel is told from Lomax's point of view, but there are ten other supporting characters, each with a story of his or her own. "Emily" is one of these stories, centering on the character of Emily Andrews, and describing the confusing tangle of desires, memories and fears from which she constructs her perception of the outside world and the people in it.

There was a time when I thought these stories should alternate with the chapters in Columbia, presenting a richer but perhaps more tangled tapestry of the lives that painfully converge in the novel's climactic scenes. But Columbia is clearly a more coherent narrative without them. Still, they were valuable to me as an author, and I hope you find them useful and enjoyable as a reader.

Emily by Eric Lanke - $3

Clicking the "Add to Cart" button will take you through a short payment process and provide you with a PDF download of the story that you can read on your computer or tablet, or which you can print at your convenience. The story is about 14,000 words and the document is 51 pages long. Given its theme and historical setting, the work reflects the racism of the time, and includes episodes of violence and strong language.

Want a sample? Here's are the first thousand or so words.

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It was a nice house and a nice family that lived there. Both were large. The house had three floors and nine different rooms. The family had Mommy and Daddy, and six children. Emily, her sister, Sally, and her four brothers: Zebulon, Marcus, Frederick, and Reuben. They spent a lot of their time sitting in the small wooden chairs, or laying on the little wooden beds—beds with fluffs of cotton tied up in little sacks for pillows and fabric swatches, hand cut and hemmed, for comforters—or bouncing up or down the staircases that connected the three levels. They were seldom all together in one place, and when they spoke to each other, it was inevitably in groups of no more than two or three. Emily was always among them.

“Hi, Sally,” Emily said.

“Hi, Emily,” Sally replied. “How are you today?”

“Emmy’s fine,” Emily said, feeling fine.

“That’s good,” Sally said.

“Sally?” Emily said.

“Yes, Emily?”

“Where Mommy go?” Emily loved Mommy.

There was the face again. The kind, gentle, beautiful face Emily loved. Emily didn’t know who the person with the face was. Emily didn’t even know her own name was Emily or what to call any of the soft and unfamiliar objects she felt all around her. But she did know what love was, and she knew she loved that face. Peering down on her from above with its happy and sparkling eyes, Emily herself could not consciously keep the smile from coming to her own face. When she smiled, the face smiled, and when they were both smiling, Emily’s tiny and infant world was filled with joy.

“Here she is,” Sally said just as Mommy flew into the room and stood next to Sally.

“Hello, Emily,” Mommy said, her voice a falsetto version of Sally’s.

Emily laughed. Mommy didn’t really sound like that. “Mommy, Emmy wants to make cookies.” She loved cookies.

The cookies were warm, still not completely cooled from the time they had spent baking in the oven. Emily stood mesmerized in the middle of the kitchen floor, staring with abject longing at the sheet of cookies, breathing deeply the aroma-filled air.

“You stay away from dem cookies,” Bessie said. “Miss Victoria said you can’t have none until after supper, you hear? You mind your Aunt Bessie, now.”

Emily did not hear Bessie’s words, lost as she was in the hunger of desire and anticipation. She wanted the cookies, wanted all of them, wanted to gorge herself on their sweet goodness until they filled her up and she became a cookie.


“You want to make cookies?” Mommy said, her head bobbing back and forth and her sewn-in hair flapping around her face.

“Yes!” Emily said. She loved cookies, especially oatmeal cookies with raisins.

“Mom!” Frederick cried. “Emily’s eating my raisins!”

Emily chomped blissfully on a mouthful of raisins, a mixture of their skin, pulp, and her saliva running down her chin.


“Well, we’ll have to go to the kitchen for that,” Mommy said.

“Okay!” said Emily.

They were all in the dining room and had to move back to get to the kitchen. Mommy and Sally just flew around the wall but Emily was careful to go through the door that swung freely on two small hinges. Using her head to push it open, she came through and let it swing shut behind her.

“What kind of cookies do you want to make, Emily?” Mommy asked.

“Oatmeal cookies with raisins and peppermint,” Emily said. She loved peppermint.

As soon as they entered the store, Emily’s eyes were riveted on the big glass jar of peppermint candies kept on the front counter. Every time Mommy took Emily to market, the storekeeper would give her one of the peppermint candies from that big glass jar. They were sweet like sugar and they tickled her nose and Emily would do just about anything to get one, even wear the short dresses and uncomfortable shoes she hated but which Mommy insisted she wear whenever going to market.

“And how is little Emily, today?” the storekeeper asked, looking down into Emily’s wide face but really speaking to Victoria. “Does she want a peppermint?”

Emily stretched out her arms at the sound of the word ‘peppermint’ and flexed and unflexed her fingers like tiny claws.


“Raisins and peppermint?” Mommy exclaimed. “I’m not sure we’ve ever made that kind before. Do we even have any peppermint in the house?”

“Yes!” Emily said.

“We do?” Mommy asked. “Where?”

“In the cupboard,” Emily said. Peppermint candy was yummy.

With the peppermint candy in her mouth, Emily rolled it rapturously over and under her tongue, its sugary sweetness dancing across her taste buds and making her heart beat faster. She loved the thick, syrupy texture her salvia took on while sucking on a peppermint candy, and she noisily moved the liquid around in her mouth, relishing the feel and the taste of it all.

“Okay,” Mommy said. “Let’s take a look.”

Mommy moved next to the cupboard that stood over the little wooden prep table and it opened to reveal a stack of thin metal discs that were to be used as silver plates in the dining room.

“Hmmm,” Mommy said, peering into the cupboard. “Looks like we have everything we need to make cookies—sugar, butter, eggs, oatmeal, and raisins—but no peppermint. Sally, will you run down to market and get some peppermint for Emily’s cookies?”

“Yes, Miss Victoria,” Sally said, and then flew out of the kitchen.

“Emily,” Mommy said. “Will you help me get the other things down from the cupboard?”

“Okay, Mommy,” Emily said, moving next to Mommy and watching as three of the flat metal discs came down to rest on the prep table.

“Should we start mixing the batter?” Mommy asked.

“No!” Emily said. “Wait for Sally and the peppermints!” Some would go in the batter, but Emily would eat some of the peppermints when Sally got back.

“Oh, Emily,” Mommy said. “We can add the peppermints to the prepared batter when Sally gets back. They’ll mix right in. Okay?”

“Okay,” Emily said. It was okay. She would still eat some when Sally got back.

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This post was written by Eric Lanke, an association executive, blogger and author. For more information, visit www.ericlanke.blogspot.com, follow him on Twitter @ericlanke or contact him at eric.lanke@gmail.com.

Monday, January 20, 2014

The Most Important Value of All: Self-Reflection

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Two weeks ago, in In the Eye of the Beholder, I continued writing about the process I used to create my association's values statement, despite some misgivings about the value of values statements I've previously shared and still hold.

Our values statement was now finished, with four core values, and each with a list of observable behaviors that we intended to use as benchmarks to determine if individuals were demonstrating the values in their day-to-day activities. My first experiment in framing a discussion with each individual staff member about how their actions compared to those values and behaviors had been a mixed success, with everyone bringing their own interpretation and varying levels of self-reflection.

For the second discussion, I chose a slightly different path. Rather than ask people to freely associate their own behaviors with the values we had described, this time I gave them a very specific task:

To prepare for our discussion, please draft a one-page memo describing no more than three behaviors that best represent your consistent actions within the organization—and at least one behavior that, upon frank and honest reflection, you have failed to demonstrate adequately. Remember that when we drafted our Values Statement, we agreed and were careful to say that it represents an aspirational vision for the organization, and that all of us would need to work towards making it a reality. The self-assessment exercise is meant to facilitate a discussion based on candor and a willingness to improve.

That should take care of it, I thought. All of us are strong in some areas and weak in others. Who could argue with that? As we moved forward with making our values real, I wanted to send a clear signal that the measure people should strive for isn't the number of noted behaviors they display around the office. The measure that really mattered to me was how willing was each person to self-diagnose their areas of weakness and identify ways that they themselves can improve.

And I felt that these reports were much more helpful to me and our process than most of those in the first round had been. Nearly everyone, I found, did a really good job of finding concrete examples of how they had demonstrated three of the behaviors aligned with our new values. Forcing them to pick, I felt, had helped them focus, and the documents provided excellent opportunities for me to reinforce positive behaviors where people had correctly identified them. And where there was some difference of perspective between them and me, limiting the conversation to only three situations helped tremendously in creating concrete dialogue around what was expected.

But still, I found some staff struggled with the second half of the assignment. Some showed what I thought was remarkable introspection and vulnerability--very correctly identifying some areas where they not just fell short of expectations, but, in some cases, behaviors in which they acted in direct opposition to the new values. These comments did not bring disciplinary action for me. Quite the reverse, in fact.

But not everyone chose to step up to that plate. A handful, in my judgement, backed deliberately away from the point of assignment, offering up words that were neither self-reflective or useful.

The conversations that followed from these documents went in two corresponding directions. Most were congratulatory and encouraging, prodding people to move in the direction they themselves had identified. But some needed to be confrontational, challenging people to be more honest about their own conduct and the kinds of behaviors we had all said were needed for our success.

Stay tuned. I'll continue this story in future posts. Up next: Where are we now and how will we move forward?

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This post was written by Eric Lanke, an association executive, blogger and author. For more information, visit www.ericlanke.blogspot.com, follow him on Twitter @ericlanke or contact him at eric.lanke@gmail.com.

Monday, January 13, 2014

Engaging Members in Your Development Process

image source
Six weeks ago, in You Are Not Innovative, I had a bit of an argument with myself--chastising myself for not doing all that I could to set a truly innovative example for my association. In the post, I leveled three essential charges against myself, including:

You talk about the need to learn more about the environment your members operate in, but you don't do it. You never go out into that world to capture any useful intelligence.

Which I dealt with in more detail four weeks ago in Capturing Useful Intelligence, and:

You talk about engaging your members in the development process of a new program or service, but you don't do it. All your ideas are kept safe and pristine within the four walls of your office.

Which I want to expand upon this week. Again, I was being intentionally hard on myself, because the fact is that we do engage our members in the process that develops new programs or program improvements in our association. But the inflated criticism was in a sense justified, because there's no doubt that this is one of the most complicated and difficult things that we do.

What makes it so complicated and difficult? I think a lot of it boils down to misunderstandings of where decisions have to get made.

Let me give you an example. We're launching a new committee in our association this year--and we're using our upcoming Annual Conference as an opportunity to populate it with members and get them engaged with its purpose and envisioned activities.

What is that purpose? And what are those envisioned activities? Well, since we're starting this fresh from scratch, I realized this was a wonderful opportunity for the staff leader in this area and I to have a conversation about decision-making and how it affects those questions.

When we think about the members on this committee, I told him, it's important for us NOT to think of them as decision-makers. They are not. When it comes to devising a strategy and developing programs that align with it, you, the staff leader, are the decision-maker, and the members of the committee are your advisors.

Therefore, when you put an agenda together, the appropriate frame is not, "What do you think we should do?" The appropriate frame is "Here's what we intend to do. What do you think of that?"

You see, the volunteers in my association are talented, yet very busy people. When you pull them together in a room or on a conference call and throw the "What do you think we should do?" question at them, for many they will have given no previous thought to the situation at all. There are often uncomfortable moments of silence after such a question is asked, and the first response--when it comes--is almost invariably not the best one. But others often accept it and start building upon it because they themselves have nothing better to offer.

And if you have abdicated decision-making to the committee, then you are stuck with the hodgepodge course of action they are building.

But when you instead take the time to develop and then explain a thoughtful strategy to them, complete with a course of action that is designed to execute the strategy and benefit the members of the association, it does two important things. First, it gives the volunteers time to acclimate to the new environment. They can shut off the part of their brain that is always focused on the day-to-day world of their business, and they can turn on the part that let's them accept and understand the broader purpose of your association. And second, when you ask the "What do you think of that?" question, it almost ensures that the responses you get are well-grounded, indicative of their own situations, and useful.

So when you say that all my ideas are kept safe and pristine within the four walls of my office, I have to laugh. On the contrary, I'm arguing that if you want to truly engage your members in your association's development process, you must boldly share even more of your ideas with them.

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This post was written by Eric Lanke, an association executive, blogger and author. For more information, visit www.ericlanke.blogspot.com, follow him on Twitter @ericlanke or contact him at eric.lanke@gmail.com.

Saturday, January 11, 2014

Road to Relevance by Harrison Coerver and Mary Byers

The follow-up to the very popular and somewhat controversial Race for Relevance, this book made a much shallower impression on me and my thinking. Subtitled “5 Strategies for Competitive Associations,” it instructs association leaders in how to help their organizations by: (1) building on strengths, (2) concentrating resources, (3) integrating programs and services, (4) aligning people and processes for efficiency, and (5) abandoning services and activities when necessary.

And that’s all good advice. But Road doesn’t have the punch Race does.

Race was in your face. I think every association professional that read it was challenged by its ideas. It took sound principles and deliberately extended them to radical extremes in an attempt to shake professionals and their associations out of their complacency. There wasn’t a lot of how-to, but Race wasn’t that kind of book.

Road is, or at least it wants to be. And as a result, it’s a lot less controversial. If you want to read some case studies on how other associations have pursued the five strategies it outlines, or if you want some worksheets on how to frame the strategies for your own organization, then Road is worth a look.

But what I really liked about Race was it unapologetic approach. Look, it seemed to say. You’re the CEO. You know things aren’t working as well as they should. But you’re an association CEO, and that means can’t start shaking things up without risking your job. So here’s a way to start framing some necessary conversations with your leadership. It’s just talk, but it’s frank talk, and that’s how everything starts in the association world. Buy this book for your next Board Chair and have a conversation about it. Do that if you do nothing else. Get the ball rolling.

That was great. That was a breath of fresh air. But Road, like so many other books, isn’t about getting the ball rolling. It’s about where that ball is supposed to roll to. Building on strengths, concentrating resources, integrating programs and services, aligning people and processes for efficiency, and abandoning services and activities when necessary--they’re all fine things for you to spend your new political capital on (assuming Race bought you some).

But the prescriptions that Road offers for how to pursue them leave me wanting. It’s not that I disagree with them. It’s that they seem to be written for a different kind of CEO than the one the authors were trying to address in Race.

Race is for the CEO who needs help doing the difficult thing that they know needs doing. Road, on the other hand, is for the CEO who needs help figuring out what to do.

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This post was written by Eric Lanke, an association executive, blogger and author. For more information, visit www.ericlanke.blogspot.com, follow him on Twitter @ericlanke or contact him at eric.lanke@gmail.com.

Monday, January 6, 2014

In the Eye of the Beholder

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Four weeks ago, in Making the Rubber Hit the Road, I continued writing about the process I used to create my association's values statement, despite some misgivings about the value of values statements I've previously shared and still hold.

Our values statement was now finished, with four core values, and each with a list of observable behaviors that we intended to use as benchmarks to determine if individuals were demonstrating the values in their day-to-day activities. As our first test of that concept, I had asked each staff member to prepare a no-more-than-one-page description of how they believe their recent actions had demonstrated the values and behaviors were had all just agreed were correlated with our current and future success.

I didn't give them a form to fill out. In fact, I encouraged them to invent their own format for responding to my request. I wanted to see how different people approached the task, and my hope was that it would help reveal examples of real actions people had taken that clearly aligned with the values and behaviors. Those examples, I figured, needed to be identified, documented, and celebrated if we were to increase their prevalence within our organization.

What I got back can best be described as a mixed bag. Each response was unique, but generally speaking, they could be grouped into three main types:

Vague paragraphs of affirmative statements

These were the least useful in my estimation. Rather than cite specific examples of how they demonstrated the values and behaviors, the staff people who returned these turned the behavior descriptions into affirmative statements about how they regularly conduct themselves.

If any examples were cited, they were extremely broad, frequently listing projects or task areas that the staff person was responsible for.

I had left the door open for people to respond in any way they thought appropriate, so I didn't hold these kind of responses against anyone. But at the same time, they made me question how seriously they took the exercise or how much they understood what we were trying to accomplish.

Detailed checklists

At the other end of the spectrum were those who went down the list of behaviors associated with the four values (31 in all) and cited a specific example for each and every one of them. Inevitably, some of these examples were good ones, but others seemed forced.

Again, I offered no recriminations, but these responses really took me by surprise. I thought we had been clear throughout the development process that the values and associated behaviors were more aspirational than descriptive of our current environment. Thinking that any one of us consistently demonstrated all 31 behaviors was publicly out of the question, but still, for some, there was an intense desire to measure up, to check every box and to receive a passing grade no matter the exercise. I appreciated the enthusiasm and creativity that went into some of the examples--but found myself questioning these people's readiness for self-reflection.

Project examples

By far the most useful responses were those that took specific projects and broke them down into individual tasks that clearly connected with the values and behaviors. For example, citing the work done on a particularly challenging project, one staff person said that they:

- Challenged prevailing assumptions, and suggested better approach.
- Used knowledge of how members function to tactfully and clearly propose major strategic change in committee activities.
- Secured agreement and strong support among committee members in spite of the investment and ownership they had in the previous efforts.
- Engaged committee in iterative process with designing a new request for proposals and other feedback.
- Drove it forward despite some hiccups in working with vendors and committee.
- Took smart risks, and a bias toward action.
- Made the plan clear to members and staff, and linked it to organizational goals.
- Brought other perspectives into the process by engaging committee, and acknowledged that this is an experiment.


All of which had clearly been done and which all demonstrated the value of Leadership and its associated behaviors. Unlike the vague paragraphs of affirmative statements, it was concrete and specific, and unlike the detailed checklists, it didn't try to cover all the values and behaviors. It was one specific example of how a staff person demonstrated leadership in the performance of their duties.

This was my first attempt to talk concretely with my staff about how their actions did or did not align with the values we had defined in our new values statement--and I think it was a mixed success. A few people responded well, but most had not, and I think those who didn't felt confused by the assignment I had given them.

Stay tuned. I'll continue this story in future posts. Up next: A second set of conversations about values and behaviors and another way of framing it.

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This post was written by Eric Lanke, an association executive, blogger and author. For more information, visit www.ericlanke.blogspot.com, follow him on Twitter @ericlanke or contact him at eric.lanke@gmail.com.