TaleCatcher - Tracy Kenny's blog

Poetry

I'm co-facilitating an away day tomorrow with a tough audience: the governance guys. They carry big expecations, and heavy authority, and serious penalties for non-compliance. It will be a stretch to see what all this positivity can do.

All I can do is what I do, and be who I am. And that will be the point of my talk, that they will engage more when they are themselves, rather than just being the one who holds the stick.

Their boss is excited about the kind of stuff I'm doing. Fingers crossed they will be too.

The challenge really boils down to one the whole company faces, that of doing a job, but of being free within those constraints.

It's a tension that's fascinated me ever since I discovered Marianne Moore' poem 'Poetry.' More simply, it's like me putting Adele in her cot isn't putting her in prison, it's putting her in a place where she knows she is absolutley safe, and she can thrash and roll around and do whatever she wants with no fear. Our regulations should be the same. Be yourself, within these guides.

I've been collecting these stories, like the one where the girl absolutely pushed the customer through the process of sending someone out to investigate her drainage claim, but in a way that made the customer feel like it was a personal favour that she'd arranged just because she wanted the customer to get an informed opinion. She said it was if it was the first time we'd ever done it, we saved money and made sure it was a valid claim, and the customer was delighted.

So build your sticks, but find the white spaces within them, and be free to be yourself.

I plan to take 'The Dot' in with me.

Big world

There is a lot more out there than we understand.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/7129952/Cat-predicts-50-deaths-in-RI-nursing-home.html

You make a better door than window

We often speak metaphorically of windows: 'the eyes are windows to your soul,' or 'window of opportunity', or 'a window on the world.' We think of them as opening to gaze through, to see things in a new way and maybe set our thoughts free.

We also put glass in windows, and it is reflective as well as transparent. It bounces our light and maybe our thoughts back to us.

The combination of seeing the outside layered with the inside might do us some good - we might see how different things are out there, and decide to get out into the bigger world. Or we might decide that the inside is cosy and safe, and better than we'd thought.

I'm interested, though, in the illusion they allow. I went by someone's office, saw he was on the phone, so I wandered off again. My colleague asked, 'Did he see you?'

I said he'd been facing the other way, looking out the window.

'He saw you,' my colleague said. 'He's watching the reflection to see what's going on behind him.'

I was disappointed. Is this what my colleague does with his own window? He could be seeing so much more.

Both of these people say they want things to change, for people to feel different around here. I wonder what they would see if they looked out their windows - the view of the back of the Lloyds TSB isn't going to change anybody, but the moment of pause, to use the open space for reflection, might be the start of something bigger.

Choir

I popped in to new boss's office for two minutes yesterday, just to brief him on some conversations I've been having around the Island Site and where my thoughts are.

He closed the door, and we had 45 minutes - and imagine my surprise that he was talking about his distaste for precise words (he's a solicitor and scientist), that they limit us and mis-shape our understanding and distort the expectations on our behaviour.

Like I was saying... :-)

But again, we're left with the challenge of how you use paper (or screen) in all this 'engagement' work. How do you regularly reach a large number of people in a meaningful way, when there's so much noise?

It's going to have something to do with being genuine, and getting that across on screen. People do an awful lot of talking, but they don't get listened to very much. Communications have to start listening, and feedback mechanisms won't do it. It has to do with telling the stories that resound with what people are feeling, almost singing in their key, as if they were already in that place, and we joined them there and added to what they're feeling, and made it better for doing it together.

Spotlight

See, when I attended my very first storytelling workshop, it was in a London theatre's rehearsal studio, and led by theatre-types-turned-business-consultants. It was very, very good, and I learned some important lessons - and probably more than they intended for any of us to get out of it.

For a start, there was an amazing professional storyteller there. She told the long and complicated folk tale of the Ash Lad, which basically boils down to using strengths and being stronger when we work together. All good stuff. But Jan was impressive before she even started talking. She was Jamaican (I believe), so her accent and rich colour instantly gave her character. She had dreadlocks, rings on her toes, and generous bosoms, and all together she looked like an earth mother, like anything she said would ring with the wisdom of the ages, of nature itself. But I and my travelling companions missed her talk. And I maintain it was one of the best things that could have happened for me.

Stick with me. By the time we got there, thirty people in the room were completely sold and overwhelmed by the idea of storytelling for persuasion and impact. We walked in just in time to see their jaw-dropped responses, and even the sceptics were committed to the idea. But in the breaks, I picked up that they didn't think they would be able to do it themselves. There was an intimidating air of 'mere me': She can do that because she's a professional. I could never do that. Seeing a model so impressive put them off the idea of even trying it themselves. 

I hadn't seen it, so I didn't have that barrier. I absorbed everything they had to say. 

When it was all over, I made excuses to travel from a different station back to Norfolk, so I could reflect on my own. I considered everything we'd done in the workshop, and I responded to it all about how it would work in real life, for real people using their own stories, and making them useful in real day-to-day business. Not for entertainment, and not for professional storytelling, but in me building a relationship with you. What I know, what I have done, and what it means to me, as a gift to you.

This is all on my mind because the other lesson has to do with job titles. I'd recently changed jobs, and  I'd been given a real mouthful of a title, and I wasn't used to it. My boss wasn't happy with his either. (This is another point of annoyance: why do we rely on bosses to give us titles? Why don't we build them together, given what we bring to the job?) As we were guests of the theatre, our hosts tried an esteem-building exercise where each of us had to stand on stage in front of the spotlight and introduce ourselves, including what we do. 

I was lost deep inside myself, listening and thinking. My turn in front of the light came, and I botched it, stammering and fumbling all over myself. When all thirty of us had had a go, three of us were picked out in front of everyone for lack of confidence and made to do it again.

It was a formative moment for me, because my annoyance firmly embedded all their points about being present and stepping up to the moment. I used them in the changes that happened right across my life in the following months, and I still draw on them from time to time. But I also knew that it wasn't my time to steal the show. I went to Jan, the beautiful and intimidating storyteller, and told her that I can take the lead, but not this time, because I wanted the space to learn, to watch, to understand and reflect, and to enjoy her leadership.

Was that the right thing to do or not? I probably wouldn't do it now, but I was responding from a very deep place. The 'I' whom I was introducing was changing, and it needed space.

As another thought: never underestimate the power of a story you tell, or a story you create. Jan and the others probably don't remember me, probably don't even remember the day. But I am taking it forward, and those I touch take it forward, and many are moved, and move others.

Verbalise this job, quick!

Over the weekend I had one of those awkward situations where I needed a job title. I prefer to avoid commiting on this; it's not that I don't know what I'm doing, but it gives me a chance to look for a conversation straight away. (This also works well with my philosophy that the real connections and engagement - the reaching people - happens when we don't try to pin things down to a few words. More on that later.)

Now I can't really put that kooky idea on my email signature or on the title page of the article I'm submitting. And I probably do look a little bit silly when I stammer over the question of what it is I do. To the great delight of my children, I am a storyteller. To people in the schoolyard, I work in communications. (I find it fascinating how much of a conversation-killer that is - it's almost like saying I work in a call centre). And when I'm actually asked at work, well I take people for a coffee to buy myself time to explain, and to win them over, to the whole story.

But again, I can't get a coffee on a PDF.

Now I've finally come up with something I'm pretty happy with: Operational Story Strategist. But I wonder, why do I only have nouns to choose from? Why can't titles have verbs in them - or better yet, why do we stumble over these monuments to inactivity, instead of using mini-stories instead?

Look at what nouns do to us: cast your mind back. Nouns are persons, places, things or ideas. They're fixed point, doing nothing. My friend announced after passing her medical exams, 'At last I'm a doctor!' Our friends said she'd 'arrived,' as if it were a fixed place. She's here now. Nothing can touch her, they seemed to say.

Life and learning are just not like that.

A better way: using verbs in - instead of - titles would instantly put more energy into the expectations we rise to. The mandate would be built in. No more 'I'm an accountant,' but rather 'I keep my clients' books straight and legal and help keep them in profit.'

It gets interesting straight away, because by stripping away the vaguaries of 'specific' nouns, we expose the gaps between the dream and the reality.

Lawyer: 'I fight to get prisoners off death row,' or 'I file a bunch of papers.'

Teacher: 'I inspire eight year-olds to find out what they love to do, and then we practise doing it,' or 'I spend every day dealing with behavioural problems and neglecting the children who really want to learn.'

Policeman: 'I catch the bad guys who would spoil our communities for everybody else,' or 'I go on training, meet targets, and file papers.'

If we could get used t obeing honest enough to use tiny stories to describe how we spend our days, we'd be much more honest about the difference we and our organisations are making - or not making.

Chores

Proportianately few of my thoughts could be called structured. They're more like scraps of words floating around and making shapes together, with me watching and calling out what they look like, as if I were a child in grass watching the clouds. 'Bird.' 'Train.' 'Cloud.' Ah - maybe that's where all that cloud business came from. :-)

Anyway, I spotted in myself the other day a trait that is absolutley mine, but un-like me: discipline around doing the washing up. I saw Ray sit down to check football scores halfway through clearing our dinner things. My reaction surprised me. I didn't say anything, but I did finish it for him. You can't leave dirty dishes in the sink. You just can't.

So four years after hearing Marcus advise to take what energises you about a job you like, and apply it to jobs you don't like, I've finally found one that works for me, but the other way around. I'm treating jobs I don't like - filing my expenses, doing my computer-based training - like doing the washing up. There can't even be a question of whether I don't like them. They'll just sit there attracting insects and growing nastier until I tackle them, so get them out of the way, and then think about what I want to do, when I have a clean space for them.

On togetherness

'I don't believe in charity. I believe in solidarity. Charity is vertical, so it's humiliating. It goes from the top to the bottom. Solidarity is horizontal. It respects the other and learns from the other. I have a lot to learn from other people.'

- Eduardo Galeano

I was so pleased to find at the end of Annette Simmons' WTTBSW this articulation of where my thoughts have been dwelling lately. I'm putting together a Case for the Passive - not so much about the grammar, but about where the grammar comes from - who we are, how we see each other, and our emotional intelligence. If I am always active, then I am controlling, and I deprive others the opportunity of giving to me, and growing, and taking the lead. And I deprive myself of the humility it takes to accept kindness.

As an aside, my work is entering its next phase. I have met so many wonderful people and heard so much of what they do, both that I can learn from and can share with others so that they can grow. There's no milage anymore in Head Office being boss. Either we do it together, or we all lose.

13 things to take us closer

What I would do to transform this company:

I would create high visibility for everyone - when we ring IT or HR the name, phone number and photograph of the person helping us should display, so they have nothing to hide behind, give great service, and build our understanding of accountabilty and our individual responsibility to the customer.

I would arrange everything around strengths, from recruitment to seasonal choices in the cafe, and have everyone understand why.

I would create a 'free to a good home' service for staff who don't fit in their teams. Why did MH have to leave, when he exhibited insatiable curiosity, exceptional critical thinking, and formidable intelligence? Okay so floor 0 found those strengths disruptive, but we would have happily taken him - and hey while we're at it, could they use PW, who also had to leave? We needed someone to stir things up on floor 2, and floor 0 needed stability, but now we're without any of the experience and personality both of them brought.

I would create manadatory cross-company work placements: make Marketing work in Product, Product in Underwriting, Underwriting in Claims, and Claims in Marketing, and build methodologies to guide and build on their learning.

I would require everyone in Head Office to spend time with customers once a year.

Senior managers would create stories - and tell them widely - of the consequences of not living according to the company ethos. And before that, they would hold people accountable so that they build these stories to tell.

Everyone would be expected to articulate how they personally impact the customer experience, and how they personally build the brand.

There would be a personality to share out the stories of how remarkable we are, to be a consistent and positive voice in the midst of hard days and grumbling. Wonderful things happen in hard times. Those stories need telling.

Everyone would receive a book allowance, and would read, as part of their job and develoment. Everyone would have time to think and reflect.

Everyone would have to listen to their calls or watch a film of themselves to understand their impact on customers and other people. The stories I have heard of individuals saying 'my life changed when...' always depend on someone pinning them down and making them listen to themselves and work through how they want to be.

I would build communications as part of a strategy, rather than as a function, hiring do-ers who communicate and inspire, and no one who bring only an ability to restate other people's ideas and moderate their passions.

I would have a kill them with kindness culture. Everyone would commit so fully to doing the right thing and being kind to each other that the pressure to be and do the same would squeeze out anyone who isn't contributing to it.

If we can't squeeze love into difficult staff, if we can't squeeze them out with love, we would speak their language, work with what appeals to them, and pay them to leave, to remove the corruptive and corrosive disruption from those who want to do right and do well, and leave this as a fertile place to grow staff who will show our collective kindness to customers.

Shake or be?

On my snuggly bus this morning, safe haven from the snow, I watched James Geary's Ted talk on Metaphor.  He re-translated the famous 'cogito ergo sum'.

He stepped away from 'I think therefore I am'.

Co: together

Gito: from the same roots as 'agitar', shake things up.

I shake things up, therefore I am.

Darren told us how his dad challenged him: You can either be somebody, or do something.

Doing something makes you somebody. Doing's where it's at.

Gosh I do love verbs. :-)

I shake things up. That's what makes me, me.