Image description: A bold 2D illustration of a woman with dark brown skin and blue hair cradling a blue Earth and leaves amidst the night sky. By Yeti Iglesias via Unsplash+.
In times of great change and uncertainty, where can we turn for guidance for how to navigate? Well, it turns out there is a lot of wisdom that we can all tap into that comes in many different forms. And we don’t really need to stretch that far to access it. How do I know this? Because we have asked.
One of my favorite group check-in questions over the past month has been:
“Who (or what) is one important teacher you have had in your life, and what is one important teaching you have received from that teacher?”
People have really loved this question, both conjuring up beloved teachers in many different forms – formal teachers, family members, friends, mentors, pets, a favorite tree, a powerful experience – as well as sharing with and hearing from one others.
This is a taste of what came up in answer to the question over the past couple of weeks, which people agreed provided some solid grounding for them:
Stand in integrity.
Trust your gut/intuition.
Remember your purpose.
Always save a place for joy.
Honor the intelligence of your body.
Don’t let the knuckleheads get you down.
Be as clear as you can in your communication with others.
Sometimes you have to break big things down into smaller pieces.
Show you care by overcoming challenges and showing up.
Remember to laugh and take your mistakes lightly.
Remember the power of pausing and reflecting.
Remember there is always more to the story.
Don’t try to win the game … change it.
Forgive, both yourself and others.
In the end, love wins.
What about you? Who is a teacher you would lift up and a teaching from them that might be helpful to remember now and perhaps to share with others?
“Connections create value. The social era will reward those organizations that realize they don’t create value all by themselves. If the industrial era was about building things, the social era is about connecting people, ideas and things.”
-Nilofer Merchant (entrepreneur, business strategist, author)
Image description: A watercolor illustration of forest filled with mushrooms and trees whose canopies resemble mushroom tops. A winding path, glowing softly in yellow, leads deeper into the scene, inviting exploration. From Allison Saeng via Unsplash+.
Our new Communications Manager, Sandra Herrera, asked a great question the other day: “Why is network weaving needed now?” She wasn’t offering this as a doubtful challenge, but to help us to hone our messaging around why more people should consider the power of tending to connectivity in these times.
The first three things that occurred to me in answer to Sandra’s question were the following:
Isolation is hazardous to our sense of wellbeing; or viewed positively, connectedness is an important social determinant of health.
Crisis demands creativity and to be creative we need connectionsto others, and in particular to do bridging work with those of diverse experiences and perspectives.
Feeding other people with helpful and uplifting informationand resources, and seeking this from those around us, can bring both light and warmth to a world that can sometimes feel is lacking.
It is important to acknowledge that not every connection is necessarily good for us. We can be negatively impacted or harmed by those around us and by some of the information and energies that come our way. At the same time, it is also important to understand that we humans can be driven by a “negativity bias” that makes us overly vigilant about potential threats. While it might be wise to pull back into our comfort zone at times, hunkering down and only being with those who are like us sets up a trap of thinking and acting in predictable and limited ways.What’s more, if everyone pulls back, we lose access to latent potential and abundance.
Innovation happens through encounters with different experiences and ways of looking at the world. Sometimes to see clearly, we must over-compensate for our tendencies to shrink and stretch beyond our comfort zones to test some of our assumptions about the dangers “out there.”
For more on the adaptive cycle, see the work of C.S. Holling
The adaptive cycle (see image above) teaches us that as systems falter, unravel and release energy (which is necessary to remain vital and adapt to changing context), certain “critical connections” (to use the words of long-time community organizer Grace Lee Boggs) must be maintained. In addition, it is very important that investment be made in the seeding of new possibilities. In the human realm, this includes an infusion of positive exploratoryenergy. So-called “positivity” (see the work of clinical research psychologist Barbara Fredrickson, PhD) is not a pollyannish state removed from reality. Rather, it’s a stance of openness and curiosity that provides some balance to our negativity bias, which can help us to see possibility in other people and our surroundings for the sake of renewal and regeneration. In other words, the nature and quality of what we bring to and feed our connections really matters!
“Network theory suggests that what a system becomes emerges from the complex, responsive relationships of its members, continuously developing in communication.”
–Esko Kilpi (sociologist, process management consultant)
All of this is especially crucial right now, as the forces that are consolidating wealth and power attempt to disrupt attempts to build solidarity across movements for justice, fairness and equity. The study of “flow networks” applied to economics shows that we have been in this kind of “oligarchic cycle” before. Oligarchies (rule by the few) and “oligarchic capitalism” (an economic system run by and for the benefit of the elites) maintain themselves in part through the spread of narratives that justify growing disparities driven by sociopathic and extractive practices. Ideas like “the divine right of kings/capital,” “supremacy,” and “survival of the fittest” still have many believing that those who have a lot (not to mention way more than they need) somehow earned/deserve it.
The antidote to this is sharing a different story rooted in the historical view that humanity has evolved over centuries through a sense of mutualism, sharing and pooling information, learning collaboratively and cooperating creatively. The “winner takes all” approach does not stand up to our understanding of what contributes to long-term human thriving. All the more reason to weave more intricate and robust networks of all kinds.
Interested in learning more? Check out some of the hyperlinks above, and search for other posts on our website focused on “networks” and “network weaving.”
And consider joining us for this upcoming training on “Network Weaving for Social Healing in Times of Great Change” (March 27, 3:00-5:00 pm ET) or contact us to learn about other similar and related offerings that might be brought to your organization.
Image Description: Illustration of colorful valleys and peaks with the sun partially visible on the horizon in the distance. Getty Images via Unsplash.
There are many ways to measure time and multiple timelines unfolding at once. As the Year of the Snake begins and Q1 winds down, we (like many others) are juggling various practical, essential tasks: finalizing contracts, submitting reimbursements, and strategizing responses for the shifting funding landscape. We’re balancing these practical tasks with the metaphysical work of connecting with our values, intention setting, and reflection. This balance led us to revisit reflections from our colleagues who attended Race Forward’s biennial racial justice conference, Facing Race. That post-conference debrief quickly bloomed to include the wonderings, longings, and commitments we’re weaving into the months and years ahead.
We offer some of those reflections, takeaways, and questions here. May you also have time to attune to your longings and commitments (individual and collective) amidst the demands of this moment.
Democracy is a tall order, especially in a multiracial context. Post-conference and post-election, folks spoke of a deeper appreciation for the complex task of creating democratic processes when there isn’t a shared history, identity, experience, or geography on which to scaffold our efforts. We ask: How do we redefine “winning” so that all of us get our needs met?
Movement dogma — and the corresponding elitism — has reached a point of diminishing returns. Over the past decade some of our progressive movement practices have calcified into gospel that can’t be questioned without conflict. Additionally, some of our key concepts and tenets – like DEI and inclusion– have been reduced to buzzwords. The meaning behind the words gets diluted. And often the terms are US-centric, undermining our potential for international solidarity. In this moment, shared understanding and deep reciprocal learning need to be prioritized over semantics. We ask: How can we practice rigor without rigidity? How can we amplify true alignment instead of pressuring ourselves to conform to elitist-coded ideals?
“We will rescue ourselves through democracy, not in spite of it,” said Kim Anderson, Executive Director, National Education Association (NEA). We need each other. Connection and attunement are key across our multiple and layered differences, so that we can deepen our understanding of each other’s fears and motivations, needs and desires, gifts and strengths. Democracy doesn’t mean that we always agree, but that we turn towards each other, tune in, and find some agreement. It means that we prioritize ways of being that hold sacred our common humanity and the gift of life on this planet. We ask: How can we listen, collaborate and network to leverage each other’s skills, interests, and capacities for the benefit of all life?
Organizers have been strategizing for this moment. As a whole, IISC operates as a capacity-building nonprofit and is a step removed from front line organizing. Many of our practitioners come from political organizing backgrounds and/or participate in organizing efforts. Even the seasoned among us are working to get clear about how to organize in this moment and in this landscape. Folks who attended Facing Race were energized to hear from organizers who offered strategies and plans to meet this moment, like People’s Action. We ask: How can we infuse our capacity-building with an organizer’s mindset (i.e., amplifying people power, building critical connections, championing principled struggle)? How can we prioritize supporting organizers?
What questions are you and your community holding as you navigate this moment? What answers are emerging as you wonder? If you want to work or wonder together, know that we’re always here.
“Find a river, that flows to the sea put your feet in the water, carry you home.”
-The Mitchell Twins, from the song “Find a River”
Last week I had the opportunity to hear a talk given by Kari Kastango, who is the first person known to have swum the length of the Connecticut River. She was the perfect kick-off speaker at a gathering of Rivershed protectors in my home region who are looking to grow and strengthen their efforts through what amounts to a network of networks. To me, Kastango’s talk set a wonderful foundation for this collaborative work, highlighting the importance of being in deeper relationship with the river itself, and taking guidance from this connection.
Kastango began her talk by saying that she was influenced from an early age by extreme athletes who tested the limits of human capacity. This led her to participate in various endurance events, such as “iron man” contests, and eventually to the idea of swimming the entire length of the Connecticut River. She shared that when she made the commitment she initially thought the river was around 200 miles in length. She then learned it was 410 miles. Her response – “Double the fun!” – was an affirmation of what has been coming through loud and clear for some months now – We can do hard things and sometimes the best thing to do is to run towards the danger.
As further illustration of this point, Kastango talked about how one summer she chose a couple days to swim a particularly challenging length of the river that fell between two hurricanes. With torrential downpours having stirred the waters into considerable turbulence, she learned that she should not fight the currents, but respect them, giving time to get a sense of the flows, and to go with those. The teaching that came through to me is that – even in what may feel like chaos and threatening conditions – a more coherent pattern can become evident if we are both patient and flexible.
Kastango also talked about how over time she became more observant, not simply of the waters and the sky, but other “kin” moving in and around the waters. Birds and other critters who are more familiar with certain environments and conditions have much to teach us if we choose to listen/watch/sense. Lesson – there is much wisdom to be learned from those who are indigenous to a place or land/waterscape, both human and more-than-human.
Another point I took away from Kastango’s talk was when she shared about getting toward the end of her swim. As she approached the Long Island Sound she said she could feel the pull of the larger waters. “It was like they were calling me home,” she said with a smile on her face. At that point she could relax more and let the waters carry her towards the sea. From this I heard that there can be a pull underlying our efforts to create change, or navigate challenge, and that this force actually wants to guide us to a “better” place, a place of greater belonging, beyond any of our efforts to force or even imagine.
Though she wrapped up her swim a year ago, Kastango said that after all those months and miles, she still feels the river in her. She still is in relationship with those waters. And that is why she tells her story – that others might develop that kind of special connection, that we not forget our more-than-human kin, and that more of us work to protect the rivers and other waterways that are (in the words of an Indigenous teacher) “the elixir of life.”
For those who live in and/or love the Connecticut River Watershed and want to learn more about the efforts to connect and protect, go to this link. And for some fun facts about Kari Kastango’s swim, go to this link.
Note to readers: This blog is based on IISC’s internal exploration of shared leadership in our organization, our work with clients, and conversations with leadership practitioners in the Knowledge Share Group, a partnership of capacity and infrastructure building organizations around the country. I particularly want to thank Miriam Messinger, Sara Oaklander, Cynthia Silva Parker, and Jasmine Williams of IISC , as well as Shannon Ellis of CompassPoint, for their ideas which sharpened this blog post.
What is shared leadership in nonprofits and philanthropy? And why are some organizations turning to different leadership models to sustain their organization’s work, forge transformative collaboration, and generate powerful intergenerational models of running organizations? IISC and many of our peers in the Knowledge Share Group1 believe that shared leadership is a better model for the future of the nonprofit sector.
Why Shared Leadership?
Leadership and organizational models that rely on the one executive leader or the senior leadership team for success are not serving our organizations and communities. Leadership concentrated in the hands of a few leaves an organization vulnerable to a number of pitfalls: uninformed decision-making, deep inequities, limited perspectives in strategic direction setting, underutilized and disempowered staff, disruptive executive transitions, and exhaustion for leaders who hold too much responsibility.
We believe executive directors and other senior staff have a choice. They can continue to hold concentrated power and make decisions independently, or they can embrace shared leadership for collective action and responsibility. It is the latter that enables us to most fully live our missions and expand democracy. We must do everything we can to support leadership in all the places it exists in our organizations.
What is Shared Leadership?
Shared leadership is an evolving concept and practice. It’s one of the most compelling options social justice communities are experimenting with to heal our relationships with traditional manifestations of power, authority, and dominance. Based on IISC’s experience and learnings from the Knowledge Share Group, I define shared leadership as the ethos, structures, processes, practices, and behaviors that promote the equitable distribution and decentralization of information, roles, authority, decision-making, and labor.
What are the Key Features of Shared Leadership?
Nonprofits are essentially a network of people, programs, and ideas working together for transformative social outcomes. Shared leadership fuels that network, with more people generating and carrying out ideas for greater impact, and doing so in more equitable ways.
There are are five key features of shared leadership:
All people in the organization are viewed and operate as leaders, mutually accountable to a set of values and practices that are in service of collective goals. They make major decisions together and trust others for the rest.
They are mindful of and attend to the needs of the whole organization and how their work impacts the whole. And they take note of critical organizational gaps and see to it that they are filled. They build redundancies in roles and create back-up plans in the event someone is unavailable to work.
Shared leadership moves away from the notion that the solo leader or executive team has carte blanche to develop and implement solutions to problems in an organization. And instead moves toward a model that centers decentralization and multiracial and multigenerational leadership, with decision-making and problem-solving shared across the organization. It fosters what we teach at IISC –Facilitative Leadership, which is an intentional practice of creating the conditions for transformational collaboration in which people do their best work together to achieve optimal results.
Shared leadership assumes that power2 is not finite and can be meaningfully shared. It requires a shift in heartset and mindset from “it’s about me” to “it’s about us,” and from “power over” to “power with.” It dismantles concentrations of power and dominance, and prevents extraction, while creating environments where trust-building, transparency, and creative autonomy are cultivated and can flourish.
Shared leadership doesn’t necessarily mean an end to executive roles or hierarchy or even the creation of a completely flat organizational structure. Organizations can implement the values and practices of shared leadership within a myriad of different organizational models and structures. The key is that senior leaders and managers are not in a dominant position where they control the fate of the organization or its employees. They are instead part of the ecosystem with information and decision-making flowing across the organization.
What is IISC’s Evolving Shared Leadership Model?
At IISC, we are about to implement a network-based team model, and we are experimenting along the way, building off of our longstanding commitment and internal practices of collaboration and distributed leadership. We believe it will enable us to harness the leadership, creativity, and ideas of all of us who work for IISC.
In our model, we are experimenting with what we call shared and equitable leadership. We will have a single president and multiple teams convened by hosts and supported by facilitators that will make decisions for their areas, while other teams will provide cross-functional input and expertise to ensure the teams are connected around strategy. Ad hoc teams – each with a unique and time-bound task – are also part of this model.
A center-holding group with membership from the various teams will weave the domains of activity and ensure people have what they need and are empowered to make change in their domains. This group will also have a host and facilitator and will include the president of IISC, and it will shift in membership as the organization’s needs change and members rotate. The group will include people with different roles and tenures in the organization, not based on their seniority or executive functions.
BIPOC and next generation leaders will be prioritized to ensure that we don’t replicate the negative attributes of white dominant culture or rely on time in the organization as a proxy for knowledge and influence. The model assumes healthy redundancies so if people shift in and out of the organization, take on different roles, or attend to health or personal crises, we will be resilient and not fall off course from our goals. The distinction between part-time and full-time staff will only be the hours they work, not how much influence they have over the organization.
This model will initially take time to implement and decision-making may be slower at the start as people learn to trust each other and move into formation. Most people are accustomed to traditional hierarchy and know instinctively how to operate in that kind of system. It can be hard for people familiar with holding positional power to adjust to letting go of making decisions, especially when they may disagree with those decisions. And for people newer to decision-making, it takes time to build confidence and skills, and to accept accountability for the impacts of those decisions. Patience is needed and power struggles and mistakes will invariably happen. Staff need information, tools, and experience to get their feet planted and take initiative. And once they do, we expect creativity and problem solving to expand and positively impact the organization.
In my case, as president of IISC, I am already experiencing the benefits of this new approach as we pilot some aspects of it. Fewer people are coming to me for answers or expecting me to make decisions. Generative conflict is surfaced and negotiated at individual and team levels and rarely comes through to me to resolve. I’m less fatigued and more inspired. I can more fully focus on what I believe are my essential roles of strategy, partnership-building, board development, fundraising, and program work. I am now more of a coach, offering questions for people to explore and occasional wisdom for those who are really stuck.
But there are tough realities to face as we experiment with parts of the model. We cannot always keep up with the flow of decisions that are needed or handle the bigger ones quickly. In the end, though, I am already finding that the quality of our decisions are better. And when we face tougher times, either organizationally or financially, we tend to find ourselves reverting to old habits of command and control. We have to remember to snap ourselves out of old practice and reprioritize our values and return to our new model. And in the end, we’re becoming a more dynamic and responsible organization because of shared and equitable leadership.
Do You Want to Try on Shared Leadership?
Shared leadership can lead to more effective organizations as diverse minds and expertise are applied to solving problems. It can achieve more balance in the lives of people as decision-making, responsibilities, and burdens are shared across the organization.
Shared leadership rocks the boat. For many of us, it’s not what we’re used to. And it liberates people to act on their visions and solutions which improves organizational performance and cracks impenetrable systems of oppression that we live and work under.
What would it look like to try shared leadership practices and experiments in your organization or institution? Where are you having success with shared leadership? Please comment.
The Knowledge Share Group is a partnership of capacity and infrastructure building organizations in the United States. The groups include Change Elemental, CompassPoint, Crossroads Antiracism Organizing & Training, Interaction Institute for Social Change, ProInspire, and Rockwood Leadership Institute.↩︎
James Shelton III at the PolicyLink Equity Summit 2018 defined power simply and clearly as “power is the ability to create, limit or make choices for oneself or others.” ↩︎
Last month, I had the privilege of co-training the final session of a Facilitative Leadership™ for Social Change workshop at an organization that strives to improve the health of their community. It is a large system with a well-established hierarchy and a focus on deliverables.
At the end of the session, my co-trainer Marie Michael asked – on behalf of the two of us plus Marie’s co-trainer for much of the workshop, Kiara Nagel – “What is one gift you are grateful to have received from others in this space that we’ve created?”
Whoo! The tears and emotion were evident. Through that, here are some of the words that we heard:
The materials speak to me and allow me to know that I am on the right track and then have the tools to implement.
The gift of belonging – in a world that otherwise tells me I am not worthy, I felt worth and belonging.
I now have the ingenuity and relationship about what we are trying to achieve in our respective units.
As an introvert, it’s great to have this space and to meet people and learn ways to channel leadership as an introvert.
The gift of the listening heart; knowing I am not alone.
Inspiration. I am motivated and inspired to work differently and more collaboratively.
The ability to pause. Initially when I saw the time commitment I was not sure if I could commit. Now I realize I’ve used this time to pause and grow individually and not just “not be at work.”
I gained a community of like-minded people who I can bounce ideas off of and be challenged by when needed.
The feeling and energy of hope. One of the values where I work is hope (we do that for others but less for ourselves). I left feeling full.
Grateful to be in a space of mutuality where I can gain so much knowledge. Thank you for the materials and to everyone who shared deeply and honestly.
Facilitative Leadership™ for Social Change remains an enduringly impactful learning experience – and a transformative one for many who participate. It is gratifying for us to hear how the workshop is experienced so if you have a story to share, we invite you to share it here!
Over the past few years, I have had the privilege of getting to know and work with food justice advocates in the state of Mississippi through the Mississippi Food Justice Collaborative and the Mississippi Food Policy Council. On two occasions, as a part of visits to Jackson, Mississippi, I’ve had the opportunity to go on the wonderful civil rights tour provided by Frank Figgers. Mr. Figgers is a graduate of Tougaloo College, where he worked with the Jackson Human Rights Project, founded by Howard Spencer, a SNCC field organizer and former civil rights worker. While working with the Jackson Human Rights Project, Mr. Figgers met, worked with, and developed relationships with other former civil rights workers. He is an absolutely captivating storyteller, who has filled in many gaps in my own historical knowledge, and provided numerous corrections to the education I received.
Touring Jackson, we made stops at a number of different historical landmarks, including the Smith Roberston Museum and Cultural Center (once Smith Robertson Elementary School, the first public school for African-American children in Jackson), the Farish Street Historical District (known as a hub for Black-owned businesses up until the 1970s), the Greyhound bus station at 219 North Lamar Street (where many arrests were made during the 1961 Freedom Rides), Tougaloo College (established by descendants of slaves aboard the Amistad and an institution that has at the forefront of the Civil Rights Movement in Mississippi), and Medgar and Myrlie Evers Home National Historical Monument (where Medgar Evers was fatally shot in 1963). Mr. Figgers narrated key and often dramatic events while those of us in the large van he was driving listened intently and as if we were watching events play out in front of us.
Exhibits inside the Mississippi Civil Rights Museum
A common refrain that Mr. Figgers used, in pointing out how “everyday people” stepped up to fight for their and other’s rights amidst oppression and violence was – “They did what they could, with what they had, where they were.” As he said this, he scanned our faces in the back of the van, his eyes widening behind his glasses, and then smiled as a final point of exclamation. Even in the face of truly terrorizing circumstances, people stood up. They stood up. They did something. So many acts of tremendous courage, large and small. So many people, everyday people, finding ways. Making ways.
“They did what they could, with what they had, where they were.”
Something about those words continued to work through me, and so was the case for others who were on the tour, as we talked about it later. They’ve been echoing in my head more loudly recently, as I feel the strain in my body and mind related to escalating challenges and suffering around us.
*******
Another story recently came to mind as Mr. Figgers’ words have been working on me. Not long out of college, I created and ran a youth service program for middle and high school students in upstate New York. My first summer organizing the program was spent in the most rural and economically poorest part of the county where I was based. We had assembled a group of about ten middle schoolers who were motivated to help others or simply looking for something to do with their time in the summer months. We got involved with the local food pantry, learned a lot about hunger in the county and country, did some painting and cleaning work on a couple of historical buildings needing love and care, and made ourselves available to those in the community unable to do certain things for themselves.
About mid-way through the summer, as more people heard about our work, we received a call about an elderly woman who was legally blindand lived by herself. The town works department was coming to her house to fix some sewage pipes and in the process of digging up a portion of her back yard to do so, they were going to have to take down a few of her young fruit trees out back. Could we come and move them for her, a neighbor who was calling on her behalf wondered? The youth were very eager to assist, and on a blistering hot day we arrived with gloves on and shovels ready. Approaching the house I gasped a little – the structure looked like it was held together by little more than hope. We met the woman outside. She wore darkened glasses and was leaning on a walker. She welcomed us and promptly guided us to the trees out back. After some basic instructions, we got to work and spent a few hours digging holes, moving and watering trees, packing soil, adding some fertilizer, and then – with sweat pouring down our faces – felt satisfied that the job was complete.
The woman was delighted and, smiling behind her darkened lenses, asked if she could give us something in return. Without waiting for an answer she told us to follow her. We went inside her house and she waved us in the direction of the door behind her where we found the stairs to her cellar. We were then instructed to flick the switch at the top of stairs, descend, and “pick anything you like.” The kids and I looked at each other, a little uncertain. I went ahead and led the way. Once at the bottom of the creaky stairs, we looked around to see dust-covered shelves on all sides of a single unfinished room, completely packed with jars. Jars full of fruits, vegetables, jams, and pickled this-and-that. Hundreds of jars.We were completely floored. After taking a few minutes to absorb the incredible array, we each selected a jar that looked good to us and went back up stairs.
“You do all of that?” one of the girls asked once we were all gathered back in her kitchen.
“Yup,” said the woman, matter-of-factly.
“And you gonna eat all of that?” asked one of the boys.
The woman laughed. “Oh no,” she said. “I send most of those to the needy.”
There was silence in the kitchen as we worked that over in our minds.
She continued. “I give them to people in my church to send to people overseas who are hungry or experiencing difficulties like earthquakes.”
The kids nodded, clearly still working that through in their minds.
Well, let’s just say that gave us a lot to talk about during our van ride back to the kids’ homes. Despite all appearances, this elder, officially living at the poverty level, legally blind and physically limited, was doing what she could, with what she had, where she was.
A nice coda to the story is that the kids decided they wanted to learn how to do canning themselves and wondered if the woman would teach them. I reached out through the neighbor, the woman agreed, and we ended up donating what we produced (fruit jams) to the local food pantry where we had begun our summer of service work.
*******
I am not going to lie. There are days when I feel completely overwhelmed. I look at what I see as the challenges we face in this country and world and I wonder, “How on earth…? It’s too much! It’s just too much.” And then I think of Mr. Figgers and the everyday people of the historical and current day civil rights movement in Mississippi and other places. And I think of “The Canning Lady,” (as she came to be called by the kids in our service group), and so many others like her that do what they can everyday with whatever they have wherever and however they are. And that’s enough to eventually right me.
Part of this righting is remembering is that it is not just about me! It is about doing my part, making the contribution(s) that I can make. To riff on a phrase I often use in supporting the creation of social change networks, it’s also about “doing my best, and then connecting to and trusting the rest.” That’s why I am such a big fan of networks, of making more loving links between people and places. Imagine more of us doing what we can, where we are, with what we have, and weaving it all into something larger. Something even more beautiful. As a poet once said, we might just make a world like that.
In these times of splitting and splintering, I keep in mind a powerful experience from a few years ago when a team of us were working with a climate resilience planning initiative in the South Bronx in New York City. We had been brought in to support city planners and engineers in creating and facilitating a community engagement process that would generate ideas for resilient energy systems with other community benefits (education, jobs), while also building stronger relationships within the community and between community members and government officials. The way we did this was essentially by humanizing the process, reducing barriers to accessing and sharing information and importantly reducing barriers standing in the way of people accessing one another.
What this meant was that we chose meeting spaces that felt like community spaces, not official government meeting rooms. We slowed the process down overall, made sure that any information presented was done in non-jargon heavy ways with plenty of opportunity for people to ask questions and with translation services available. We also brought music into the room, at the start and end of meetings, as well as other creative art forms during certain portions of the process so that community members could express more fully their hopes and concerns through different media. For evening meetings we served delicious locally-catered food. Childcare was available for parents who wanted that support. And as facilitators, we treated everyone as if they had something to offer, no matter their age or official position, and assumed all wanted the best for the community.
Public meeting held in community center theater space
Predictably, in the early going, some long standing social-political dynamics and suspicions showed up. People seemed to be really good at and used to playing their respective roles – buttoned up officials, ardent (and occasionally angry) community organizers, business owners thinking mainly about their own livelihood, etc. But over time you could feel things start to shift as people understood that this was a different kind of process. There was more laughter and joy in the space, less posturing, softening of tone, and more engagement with one another outside of official roles and meeting times.
This all culminated in a particular moment when the city official with whom we worked most closely had to share some difficult news at a public meeting from one of the engineering analyses that was not well received by many community members. Tempers flared in the room, and just when it seemed we were going to come to a complete stalemate, the official with whom we were working cried out, “Look, I’m on your side! I want this to work for you. We’ve been trying to figure this out but it’s not that easy.” For a moment this person looked like they were going to burst into tears, holding their head in their hands.
That public display of emotion, of vulnerability, was followed by what felt like a long silence, and then one of the lead community organizers looked at our facilitation team, seemed to sigh with their entire body, stood with hands outstretched and said, softly, “Let us help you. That’s why we’re here.” That exchange broke what might have been the spell that returned us to the predictable story of “us vs them.” It opened up possibility and kept us going and eventually led to agreement on a path forward.
“That’s why we’re here.”
Not to fight or prove who’s right.
Not to keep an old tired and fatiguing pattern going.
Not to waste more precious time, money and other resources.
But to figure out how to make sure that people and communities are safe in the face of whatever may come.
And to do that figuring, TOGETHER.
That is the bigger promise of collaboration from our humble and long-standing perspective at IISC, having supported hundreds of collaborative ventures over the past 30 + years: to bring our different needs, perspectives, talents and ideas together to make something better, for everyone. This notion used to be seen as almost pollyannish in some circles up until about about 15 years ago. Then it became much more accepted as people grappled with increasingly complex issues and challenges. More recently it has been seen as needed but perhaps a near impossibility in some places because of pronounced pain and polarization.
And still what we know is that now more than ever, we need each other. As trite as it may sound, difference and diversity are truly our strength. And we know that we have far more in common than we do differences. Most of us share a core set of common values, most of us want something better, better than what we have in many communities and this country right now. Some of us may be tired and perhaps frightened. Yet we cannot avoid the truth that we are in this together. We certainly are beingtested to learn to live and work together in new ways. What if we saw this as an opportunity to show what we are truly made of and might become? This could actually happen if we were to reach toward one other in good faith, from a spirt of deep caring, and with curiosity, humility, and determined hope.
Image by Emily Bergquist, shared under provisions of Creative Commons Attribution license 2.0.
“We must move ourselves beyond resistance and survival, to flourishment and ‘mino bimaadiziwin’(the good life).“
Leanne Betasamosake Simpson
“The challenge is to replace practices that distance and disconnect with ones that evoke empathy, caring, and creativity.”
Carol Sanford
NOTE: This is a slightly revised version of a post that appeared about a year and a half ago. We live, we learn, and so some of the overall framing and details have shifted, but the essence here remains the same …
In our collaborative change work with organizations and multi-organizational networks, we at IISC are adamant about doing thoughtful “stakeholder analysis” at the start of an initiative, and returning to this work periodically, asking the question, “Who are we missing or not seeing?” As important as this can be, not everyone loves the word “stakeholder.” It can sound somewhat wonky and impersonal, and I myself have been thinking about the word “stake” and what it says about people.
To have a stake means “to have a share, interest, or involvement in something or someone.” Going back to the early 1700s, a stakeholder was one to whom money was deposited when making a wager/bet. And in the colonizing of what is now the United States, stakes were literally placed on lands that were stewarded by Indigenous peoples as a way of claiming ownership of them. What none of this conveys is a sense of care or caring. I don’t mean whether or not someone cares (or is indifferent), but whether there is a genuine heartfelt/embodied sense of connection or deep desire to participate, protect, co-create and/or contribute. Increasingly, this sense of care and caring (along with reckoning and making amends) is showing up as a crucial factor in making the work of complex collaborative (systemic and culture) change happen.
Recently, Anne Heberger Marino tweeted something about translating “stakeholders” to “careholders” in her/their mind to get beyond “detached objectivity.” I really like and resonate with that! And it goes beyond the term I had been playing with that still felt a bit detached – “interest-holder.” Playing with language seems to raise some interesting possibilities. In general, when we at IISC work with partners to consider who might been engaged in collaborative social change work, we uplift the following categories/criteria (applied to individuals and groups) with respect to a given initiative:
Is likely to be impacted by the outcome of the effort/decision
Functions as a connector in or across sector(s)/field(s)/communities
Is in a position to implement the effort/decision
Is in a position to prevent the effort/decision from being implemented
Has relevant information or “expertise” (including lived experience)
Has informal influence without authority
Has formal authority/responsible for the final decision
Is Indigenous to the place where we are doing “the work”
Applying a lens of “caring” or (or even of “loving”) to these criteria brings out another level or nuance, for me anyways. Beyond functionality and/or positionality, it invites me to ask: Who really connects to and cares about what we are trying to do? This can deepen and really anchor the analysis in powerful ways and also potentially expand possibilities for the initiative in question. Farmer, poet and essayist Wendell Berry has talked about the importance of what he calls “the turn towards affection.” Having spent many years reflecting on and pushing back against the unfortunate demonstrated human capacity to damage the land and demonize “the other,” he takes a strong stand for deep connection, or affection:
“For humans to have a responsible relationship to the world, they must imagine their places in it. … By imagination we see it illuminated by its own unique character and by our love for it.”
And, of course, there is longstanding Indigenous perspective and practice around “seeing” and sensing the land and all beings as kin, as “relations” that shape us and are shaped by us, with or without our conscious “knowing.” What if we asked ourselves and others what might be illuminated by people bringing their affection, love and/or sense of kinship to the initiative, work, place and/or goal in question? Who already has this? How might we inspire it in others?
“Cares deeply about the effort/decision” might become its own worthy category/criterion. And in looking at the criterion from the list above, “Is in a position to prevent the initiative/decision from being implemented” (the proverbial “blocker(s)”), bringing a lens of care might help us wonder what perceived “adversaries” actually care about/love/connect to. Might this kind of curiosity help to build bridges and understanding from the outset as opposed to immediately relegating certain people and groups to the category of “them”?
Speaking to the last criterion in the list above, recent conversations among a group of IISC staff and affiliates about these categories and criterion have raised important considerations of Indigenous peoples and perspectives. Increasingly we are seeing an interest in acknowledging and addressing harms done through colonialism, validating Indigenous ways of knowing, and working to establish “right relationships” and a “resurgence” (borrowing language here from Leanne Betasamosake Simpson) of saluto-genic (health/wholeness-promoting) systems. And perhaps by extension of these notions of “indigeneity” and caring, we might also consider who: “Speaks for the land” (see the work and writings of Jeannette Armstrong, of the Okanagan people) and also “Speaks for the more-than-human realm.”
I am also reminded of our IISC Collaborative Change Lens, which includes the facet of “love” as a force for social transformation and justice. Love here is a deeply rooted sensibility and practice, something that connects us in an ongoing way to “right mind and right action” in support of the “bigger We” of which we are all a part. As we say on our website, “We nurture the love that does justice: the desire for the wellbeing of others, which is central to every social change movement. Love infuses our power with compassion, reclaims our resilience, heals our wounds, causes us to see ourselves as connected, and enables our radical imagination.”
Finally, at least for now, as I look at the list of nine criteria above, I am tempted to add one more growing out of the unfolding spirit of these reflections. I would simply add a place/seat for “possibility,” in whatever form that might want to take. To and for me, the practice of leaning into more caring/loving leads naturally to this kind of space. More on that soon. And in the meantime …
What might care and care-holding bring to your consideration of who and how to engage others/”kin” in your social change work?
New Tulsa flag. For more on its meaning, including tribal connections, see this link.
A couple of weeks ago, I had the privilege of attending and presenting at the 25th annual White Privilege Conference in Tulsa, Oklahoma with my dear colleague Karen Spiller. We were invited to share about the past 10 years of co-producing the 21 Day Racial Equity Habit Building Challengefor Food Solutions New England, and also be in conversation with Dr. Eddie Moore, Jr., Debby Irving and Dr. Marguerite Penick-Parks, who were the originators of the 21 Day Equity Challenge through The Privilege Institute. To say that it was a rich experience is an understatement.
Meeting in the City of Tulsa and being in the state of Oklahoma was particularly poignant, for all that they represent with respect to this country’s history – the destination of the Trail of Tears and home to 39 different Indigenous tribes because of relocation and forced removal; the site of Black Wall Street and the 1921 Massacre; birthplace of the likes of Woody Guthrie, Wilma Mankiller, Jim Thorpe, Anita Hill, and Ralph Ellison; a focal point of the Dust Bowl, and known as the buckle of the so-called “Bible Belt.”
We were truly blessed to be welcomed each day by members of one of the three tribes whose reservations intersect in the City of Tulsa – Osage, Cherokee, and Muscogee Creek. Through their welcoming words and “land acknowledgments” we learned so much more about this country’s history and also the resilience and generosity of Indigenous peoples. This included a very rich morning presentation from Wilson Pipestem, a citizen of the Otoe-Missouria Tribe, Osage headright holder, Managing Partner and co-founder of Ietan Consulting and a fierce advocate for tribal self-determination. In this and a follow-up breakout session Pipestem facilitated with his colleague Lance Kelley, of the Muscogee Creek, I found myself scribbling teachings, including this list of ten, all of which seem to fit under broader headings of “be aware of the danger of the single story” and “check your assumptions”:
There are some 575 tribes in the US today and more than 300 reservations, along with 630 Canadian “reserves.”
In telling the story of the Indigenous peoples within the US, we should not speak of “conquest.” Rather we should talk about accommodation, ongoing attempts at agreement building, and of course, agreements broken and terrible harms done.
Much of the policy of the US government during the Trail of Tears era and beyond was based in a very false and harmful belief that Indigenous peoples were “inferior and would disappear eventually.”
Related to the above, laws were set around certain allowances of land for Indigenous peoples, complete with White overseers and an expiration date, all of which emphasized the false idea of “Indigenous impermanence and incompetence.”
During the Battle of Horseshoe Bend, Andrew Jackson had his life saved by a Cherokee named Junaluska. Later, Jackson, as President, would request the removal of Junaluska and his people from North Carolina as part of the Trail of Tears.
A large part of Indigenous resistance lay in the ongoing refusal to accept that “the ways we were given that we know are perfect are in any way ‘wrong’.”
The story of Little House on the Prairie could also be told as that of, “A White family that was squatting on Indigenous lands.”
There exists a range of “blood quantum” requirements among tribes which determine tribal membership (from as much as one-half to as little as 1/128).
Sitting with all of this, with much gratitude, and more committed than ever to the notion of working towards “right relationship” as well as telling the fuller story of this imperfect and amazing country.
What assumptions are you sitting with?
What single stories that could benefit from a fuller telling?
Image Description: Illustration of a woman’s profile in soft blue tones, with clouds layered across her face and botanical shapes surrounding her. By Anna Kutukova via Unsplash.
Traditional management has run its course. At IISC and in our network of clients and equity practitioners, we’re trying to create something new in its place. We don’t have all the answers, but we know it’s time to discover another way.
As a Generation X’er who worked “under” bosses trained in traditional command and control leadership, I saw the poor results of “do what I say” or “do as I do” leadership. In the 80s and 90s, management strategies were based on military and manufacturing leadership practices which relied on top-down hierarchies, rigid routines, and long work hours.
Obedience of the workforce was paramount. And it was suffocating.
A natural product of the system of racialized capitalism, management was – and in many cases still is – about dominion over people and making sure they work harder and faster to amass money and resources for those “at the top.” It’s too often about quantity and output over people and quality, rather than what you ultimately accomplish.
Fortunately, collaboration as a critical proposition for team effectiveness, and equity and wellbeing as vital strategies for organizational success, are now in play in more workplaces. And yet, if we’re honest, we’re still churning out work and people like generations before us. The pandemic tried to teach us otherwise, but now that we’ve moved from pandemic panic to endemic acceptance, we’ve fallen back into old habits. We’ve defaulted to management practices that are rooted in the anxiety that comes from living in a world of systems which perpetuate oppression, political chaos, and climate catastrophes. Anxiety compels us to micromanage, remove employee autonomy, and revert to workplace disciplinary practices,
At IISC we’re working hard to stay true to our values and practices by approaching our organizational structure and practices with intention. We’re moving away from traditional management to transformational leadership that is based in shared leadership and the Facilitative Leadership™ and equity practices we bring to others.
So what are we doing? Here are three strategies we’re trying:
We’re decentering ourselves as “managers.” We’re developing a new leadership and decision-making structure that envisions each of us as leaders in a network, offering our contributions individually and collectively to move the whole. People closest to their areas of work and the impact of the work will be entrusted with decisions in those domains. Multiracial and multigenerational leadership will be a core principle as we undo work norms that stem from cultures of white supremacy.
We’re creating a workplace that is about preserving dignity and wellbeing. We believe that policies that promote wellbeing help us approach our work with greater focus and creativity. And having more time outside of work to rest and connect enables us to see the world more clearly and better understand our organization’s role in making the world a better place. We have implemented a four-day work week to give people a greater balance between work and personal time, and we’ve launched a compensation pod to explore how to increase our wages through an equity lens. We’re repackaging some of our functions so they fit better within each person’s job and hiring more people to share those responsibilities. We avoid booking meetings before 10am so people have time to plan their days, do solo work, and attend to caregiving responsibilities.
We’re building new practices for holding each other accountable to our work goals and values by navigating the conflict that naturally arises in an organizational setting. We’ve had a dominant culture of “niceness” that allowed tensions to stay buried, leading to work inefficiencies and resentment. To address that, we’ve worked with transformative justice practitioners to learn to step into more radical candor with each other. We’ve learned it’s possible to have hard conversations and hold people with dignity by engaging in truth-telling that emphasizes impact over intent. And, last but not least, we’re piloting mechanisms for sharing feedback that are not based on a supervision model but rather on coaching and mutual accountability sessions.
I’m relieved that future generations may be spared the problematic management practices of the past that treated us like widgets instead of precious humans. But we need a lot more people and leaders who are willing to stand with us and our allies. And who are ready to lead us forward into this new way of working.
We want to hear from you! How are you trying to replace traditional management practices with transformational leadership? How do you want to take a stand?
Earlier this summer, I walked into the Boston Convention Center with thousands milling about and locked eyes with a Black woman who had the kindest smile. As I learned later, she, like me, had been to hundreds of conferences in our lifetimes but we felt shy. The exhibits weren’t open yet so we started chatting about our work and lives. I learned she is the president of a local chapter of the NAACP in the south, and a Black woman president at that. Her power has been challenged daily by white power structures resisting change and by male leadership within her ranks who assume they know better, but she didn’t look tired. She was ready for the convention and she was proud of her youth leaders who were participating. She was here, at the NAACP convention, working to build a better future and that was all that mattered.
New friends at the NAACP convention
If the convention had stopped there, I would have learned something. When you get to my stage of life and attend events like this, you often spend time with people you already know. That day, I spent time with people I didn’t know and at workshops in which the content was unfamiliar. I came away enriched with a new relationship, with new ideas, and – most importantly – with new-found hope. And I learned a lot about what advocates working for change most need in these times.
Here are three takeaways:
These times are not new, and we have the people and tools to break through this painful America we are living in right now. Shavone Arline-Bradley, president of the National Council of Negro Women, brought the house down at the women’s luncheon when she ran down the list of conservative white supremacists that Black leaders have reckoned with – including George Wallace, former Governor of Alabama, who was an ardent advocate for school segregation in the 60s and 70s. Despite his efforts to keep in place Plessy v. Ferguson, which legalized school segregation in 1896, it was overturned 58-years later by the US Supreme Court in Brown v. Board of Education. She argued that we have seen the likes of supremacists like Donald Trump and Ron Desantis before and we have stopped their progress through organizing, get out the vote efforts, and in the courts. And she credited the strategy and strength of Black women who waged these fights.
The climate crisis must be viewed as immediate and dangerous, and as a critical racial justice issue. Boston environmental and racial justice activist Reverend Mariama White-Hammond and other climate leaders clearly laid out the climate and weather shifts that we are now facing. We learned that the impacts are disproportionately centered in Black, Brown, and low-income communities where residents don’t have access to sufficient air conditioning or plentiful and drinkable water in hot conditions, or places to go when flooding hits apartments and homes because of poor water mitigation systems.
As I listened to the inequities, I realized that there should be no “change” in climate change because it’s now a crisis, and there is no “threat” because climate chaos is already damaging our cities and rural communities in the form of extreme heat, wildfires, floods, and droughts. What gets in my way and the way of others who are in this fight is that it’s just so hard to face. We need to stare the climate reality in the eyes, and as indigenous people and people rooted to land know, we must focus on healing our planet and taking the best care of it we can.
We must bring young people to our tables. There were hundreds of youth at the convention, all attending workshops and participating in events designed to develop their leadership at all levels of the NAACP and in local communities. It was clear from the panel conversations and the myriad of people I spoke with that if we’re going to fight modern-day supremacists and their successors, we need young people leading the way. And we need to train and support them with strategies, tools, and resources for social change and racial justice. Our legacy will continue through their passion and ideas and we have a responsibility to support them, teach them what we know, learn what we don’t, and follow their great ideas.
I am walking away inspired by the knowledge that we absolutely have what it takes for the fights ahead, as long as we continue to build the strength of our networks and prioritize the leadership and energy of young people. We can – and we will – do this.
