© 2024 Jeff Shuck.
Here is another nice and different take on the Fourth Estate Leadership Summit. Worth reading. I am in two of the three pictures in the post. (Hint: I am not Jason Russell.)
One of the coolest things I've ever been a part of.
I'm writing after four days at the Fourth Estate Leadership Summit, the youth leadership conference of Invisible Children. It is hard to describe the amount of concentrated purity and light that filled the auditorium during the final session last night. Suffice it to say that I'm infused with so much residual passion and energy that I'm writing this from the ceiling of my hotel room, where I've been floating for the last 12 hours.
I've made no secret about my admiration and support for Invisible Children, not despite of but because of their willingness to embrace creative, nontraditional, and sometimes plain wacky methods to illustrate the radical idea that we each can make change in the world, and so we each should.
Occasionally when I talk to people about my relationship with Invisible Children there's a pause from the other person and then a veiled criticism: "Oh, yeah, wow they try some different things. That must be interesting." I push the bait aside and rush right into the breach. The fact is, I say, that innovation by definition looks different from the norm, and aren't we filled with gratitude for the innovators among us for showing us a better way? When this comment is lost on the other person I know I can move on in search of more inspired conversation.
In any case, because of what I do I attend a lot of nonprofit events, and while there are better ones and weaker ones, many events feel like they were designed by someone who assumes the audience understands and cares. What I love about Invisible Children is that they turn this around – they show you why they themselves understand and care, and then they create something inspired and joyful and poignant that invites you into a deeper understanding. In other words, they don't assume you get it. They assume you don't – but also, importantly, assume you will if you are just shown why.
Their conference had some speeches and break-out sessions like all conferences. In fact, their "traditional" content was some of the best I've ever seen, including the speech from Samantha Power, newly confirmed U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations, pictured above. But the Fourth Estate also had dance and musical performances and dozens of incredibly well-done movies and choreography and audience interaction. I felt engaged and part of the event: a participant, not an attendee. The Fourth Estate was inspiring and engaging and emotional, and more than anything, fun. When was the last time you went to a conference that you described as "fun"?
Reverend John Jenkins, the President of Notre Dame University, said in his inaugural address, "If we are afraid to be different from the world, how can we make a difference in the world?"
The fact is that all of us are trying to create change, and change by definition means DIFFERENT. It is hard to cure cancer, create literacy, build schools, fight injustice, reclaim green space, or [insert your cause here] by doing the same things that everyone else does.
The next time you are planning an event or program or initiative and you hear people around you telling you "That's not the way we're supposed to do it," keep pushing, because you might be on to something groundbreaking. Invisible Children is not afraid to be different, and that more than anything is the reason that they are moving the needle of change. More, please!
Oh, this is so cynical to say but one thing I've learned the hard way is that when someone says to me, "I know our friendship matters to you," I start backing slowly away, because what is coming is an attempt at manipulation. Wait, maybe if our friendship mattered to you, you wouldn't try to leverage our friendship by using it as a point of discussion. How about that?
It is the same thing as someone telling you how trustworthy or charitable or generous or nice or tough or cooperative they are, because would anyone who is really any of those things actually need to tell you they are?
It is sometimes tough for all of us to be kind people when the survival tools we learn hobble the kindest among us. But on the other hand, how wonderful when you meet someone who just exudes character and kindness! And those people never have to mention how wonderful they are.
As we grow up we learn how to pick out what's wrong. Which one of these kids is different? Which one doesn't belong?
A few weeks ago I was standing on our deck looking through the trees in our back yard. Our house borders a small plot of land owned by the town. Most days, the town parks its leaf truck on the gravel driveway there. The leaf truck is large and bright red. It is ugly and impossible to miss.
As I looked at the stain parked next door and contemplated a painting commando mission, my daughter walked up to me.
"What are you looking at Daddy?" she asked.
"The big red thing over there. See it?" I said.
She looked around for a minute and then lit up. "Oh! Daddy, a cardinal! How pretty!"
I had completely missed the bird a few feet in front of us.
It is easy to pick out what's wrong. It is harder, and much more valuable, to see what's right.
You might need a board.
I've worked with enough organizations to know that every organization is different. And yet oftentimes every group is unique in exactly the same way, if you catch my meaning. "You couldn't possibly understand our issues with X." Hmmm, try me.
In any case, there are no hard and fast rules but certainly some of the guidelines are pretty reliable. One rule of thumb with a nearly flawless track record is that organizations which claim to have no need for an outside, independent board of directors are invariably the same organizations which could most benefit from one.
If you have a tight group of uber-aligned thinkers who move unconsciously together, then a board might just provide the friction required to improve your potion and reign in some of your wilder ideas. And if you have a disconnected, scattered collection of warrior chieftains defending their own fiefdoms, then a board might help bring some cohesion and accountability around a few core values.
If you hear yourself arguing against adding outside directors to the board because of the influence, rigor, and accountability they could add, it could be time to ask: What are we afraid of, and why?
Many seedlings, one trunk.
We all know the dandelion. It starts as a nice yellow flower and, as it matures, sprouts thousands of seeds. It expands by spreading those seeds all across the yard. After the seeds disperse, new dandelions are spread far and wide. The original stalk withers away.
The banyan tree is a different. It starts as one trunk and, as it matures, spreads an incredible, lush canopy. It expands by dropping seedlings from the canopy. As the seedlings take root, the canopy, in turn, continues to grow. New trunks are formed and yet the original trunk continues to expand. Everything is connected to the same canopy.
Great organizational strategy is like a banyan: Operational initiatives, programs, and tactics come from an overarching set of shared principles.
Avoid the dandelion approach. When you start spreading things in every direction, you risk losing what made you cohesive in the first place. Ultimately there won't be anything left.
Today would have been my friend Bridget's 30th birthday. Bridget was a team member of mine at Event 360. She died several months ago, and I was honored to deliver a eulogy at her funeral.
I have thought about Bridget a lot these last two months because I have been asked to speak about her often. At her funeral, at several conferences, and most recently at the Komen Leadership Conference a few weeks ago. I wanted to share a short experience.
During my presentation, I said something to the effect of “Like my mother, Bridget was killed by cancer.” Through the bright stage lights I could see the first few rows of the audience. Everyone stiffened when I said the word “killed.” I wasn’t going to make much of it but I saw that I had made everyone in the audience uncomfortable, so I paused for a moment.
I said, I use the word “killed” deliberately. I believe language is powerful; that language dictates our actions, and our actions shape the world. When we say someone “died of cancer” we are basically admitting that “dying of cancer” is an acceptable, normal state of affairs. We are saying, in essence, “people die for many reasons, and cancer is one of them.”
I disagree to the core of my soul. Cancer kills people. No one should die of it. If we harnessed enough of our money and technology and talent, we could make it preventable. I do not accept the worldview that it is a natural form of demise, and neither should you, because it isn’t true.
Thank you Bridget, and thanks Mom, and thanks to my family friend Nick, and thanks to everyone out there who made the ultimate sacrifice to help the rest of us get our priorities in order. Bridget, more than anything, is a reminder to me of the work we have to do. And why it is worth doing.
I'm reading the wonderful WWII history A Man Called Intrepid by William Stevenson, which details the formation and activities of the British secret service during the war.
Stevenson writes that during the war Eleanor Roosevelt carried in her purse this prayer:
Dear Lord
Lest I continue
My complacent way
Help me to remember
Somewhere out there
A man died for me today
-- As long as there be war
I then must
Ask and answer
Am I worth dying for?
Worthing reflecting on.
This article was previously posted on Event 360's blog. Read more here.
It has been a hectic year at Event 360. We’ve launched three new projects and a new training series – each with its own set of accomplishments and challenges. Further, we have seen this theme of challenge transcend our own company as we’ve partnered with one of our key clients to right-size a major project in response to their changing needs. And most importantly and closest to home, we’ve been tragically reminded of our mission through the loss of one of our team members to cancer.
All in all, it has been one of those quarters that seems to have stretched on for months. Our team is resolute but tired. We’re trying to keep our bearings in a changing landscape.
Most of us have been through times like these at various points in our lives – times when what we think we know is rapidly replaced by a new order. Some of us are better at recalibrating than others. The ones who can adapt to a new deck of cards are crucial for the team, because they help lead the way for others. At the same time, during periods of intense change it is more important than ever to have people who are still holding onto the old deck; people who remember where we are and how we got there. In times of change we need equal parts respect for the past and willingness to innovate into the future.
I am a huge fan of quotes and over the years I’ve collected thousands of them. Perhaps it is the poor person’s wisdom; maybe I’m too simple for philosophy and too distracted for genuine literature. Nevertheless, there’s something comforting and inspiring to me about advice that is distilled into a sentence.
One of my favorites is a line from Robert Frost’s A Servant of Servants: “The best way out is always through.” We can worry, and complain, and stress ourselves to pieces. Or we can stick out our chins and keep walking. The way out is just ahead.
It is tempting to think that life is like a video game, or perhaps a television show. Wouldn’t it be great if we could just change the channel? But there isn’t an “off” button for existence. We can all be grateful for that.
We’ve had a hectic quarter, but we’re walking on, and in so doing I’m reminded of why I started walking in the first place.
Over the next few months I look forward to sharing more about what we’ve learned. Some of the themes will be familiar, but I think others will be surprising – and helpful.
Until then, my best to you and yours for a wonderful summer event season.
...today as the updates from the Oklahoma City tornado start to pour in.
Feels like we're due for a turn, no?
Thoughts and prayers to everyone impacted. It's terrible.
A quick post for all parents of teens 14 years or older: If you are trying to help your teen come up with a constructive, positive, career-building, memorable answer to the question "How did you spend your summer?" then look no further than the 4th Estate Leadership Summit, this August in Los Angeles. $495 includes food, lodging, and three days of curriculum from over 30 nonprofits.
It is going to be fantastic, and a lot more exciting than day camp, intramural softball, or tending the fry cooker.
Attention all bullies, zealots-with-arms, and terrorists of all stripes, domestic and international: WE ARE NOT AFRAID OF YOU. You are cowards, and you have been exposed.