Category: Office Culture

The Staff 360, an instrument of pain and enlightenment

Posted on by Vu

unicornsAbout once a quarter, the VFA staff conducts what we call a “Staff 360,” a time dedicated for team members to give each other feedback in 8-minute one-on-one meetings. It’s like speed dating, but instead of talking about how much you love Modern Family, you give and receive constructive feedback that will help improve team dynamics and, more importantly, prevent people from hogging the entire bag of Tim’s Cascade jalapeno-flavored potato chips, which are like salty morsels of happiness and are meant to be shared with everyone in the office, James.

We started doing this over a year ago, when we realized that as a team we spend more time each week with each other than with our own family members, and that inevitably leads to misunderstandings. These misunderstandings, I’ve learned, when not properly handled, usually lead to conflicts that I have to step in as the boss to resolve. I am a busy person, with important executive things to do such as attending meetings and scheduling meetings to attend. I do not have time to resolve petty, ridiculous complaints like “Tony keeps leaving his dishes unwashed for days” or “Thanh never replaces the toilet paper roll when it’s empty” or “Vu, did you take care of the payroll situation?! We haven’t been paid in three months!!” etc.

Staff are encouraged to give each other feedback directly as things come up, and I schedule regular one-on-one time with team members. However, having a focused period of time for all of us to be able to simultaneously give everyone else on the team feedback puts us all in the mindset of constant improvement, learning, and fear. And since each round is only eight minutes long, everyone has to get to the point very quickly. Last week, we had the winter Staff 360.

“All right,” I said, glancing at each of the seven faces staring at me around the conference table, “you know the three basic rules regarding feedback that we learned from our coach Colleen. First, discuss tangible behavior, not personality. Focus on what someone should keep doing, do more of, or do less of. Try to be specific, with examples.

“Second, assume the best intentions, both when you’re giving feedback, and when you’re receiving it. What’s the last rule?” They looked at each other. “Uh,” ventured one staff, “don’t stab people when they give you feedback?” “Yes,” I said, “we do not want a repeat of the 2010 annual dinner post-mortem.”

“Overall,” I continued, “we are not our feedback. Feedback is just how other people experience us. We don’t have to agree with anything anyone says. Unless I say it. Ha ha, just kidding. Kind of.”

We broke up into different corners of the office. One of the staff volunteered to be the timekeeper. I claimed the conference room and worked to cultivate an aura of the enlightened leader, one who is confident and decisive, yet also approachable and understanding. Being an enlightened leader, I had spent time the previous evening during commercial breaks of the Walking Dead writing up notes on each staff’s strengths and areas for improvement.

A staff walked in. “How’s it going, Kevin?” I said, using pseudonyms for this post, except for James, who needs to go easy on the jalapeno chips.

It is surprising how much information can be delivered in eight minutes when both parties are prepared. When we first started implementing this system, the staff were resistant. During the first few Staff 360’s, there would always be some excuses for skipping, such as bird flu or emergency amputation. However, as we do more and more of them, they started growing on us. When everyone is simultaneously giving and receiving feedback, it doesn’t seem as personal. It actually became sort of fun, like flossing. Plus, it’s not just giving constructive feedback, but also showing appreciation, which as a society we don’t do enough of.

“Under the category of ‘keep doing,’” I said, “I really appreciate the energy you bring to the office. Things are just more fun when you’re around, and it makes me look forward to work each day. I appreciate how thoughtful you are, especially with new team members, taking time to show them the ropes in addition to all your other work. I know you stayed at the office until 9pm last night preparing for today’s program. Thank you for all you do to make VFA great.”

“Sorry,” I said, turning away, “it’s my allergies; it makes my eyes water.” I went into feedback on what he could improve on, then it was Kevin’s turn to give me feedback. “Time’s up,” yelled the timekeeper after eight minutes, “switch!” Kevin left and a new staff, Thanh, entered. Thanh is not directly under my supervision, so I didn’t have much feedback to give her. This was a chance to check in to see how she’s doing, and maybe schedule a follow-up one-on-one.

We did seven rounds in about an hour and fifteen minutes. The staff are always very thoughtful with their feedback. One said, “You have to spend more time cultivating sponsors and donors. Less freaking out and micromanaging. Seriously, we can handle most things here while you’re gone. Just answer your emails faster. Also, have you tried Proactiv? It works for my cousin…”

Sometimes, I don’t agree with the feedback.

“You can’t keep using unicorns for all your jokes. Yesterday, you were like ‘I went to this law firm for a meeting, and it was ridiculously nice, I think their conference table is made out of unicorn horns.’ You use unicorns for everything.” Unicorns are always funny, I thought, slightly resentful of this criticism. But if it bothers him, I can reduce references to them.

After the final round, the whole team gathered for a quick, 15-minute discussion on simple things we can do to make the office better. The energy after the speed-feedback session is always great. Everyone feels both heard and appreciated. Someone suggested more plants in the office. Someone else recommended we pick a new restaurant each month and go as a team for lunch.

“We don’t get any sunlight in this office,” a staff said, “we should find a grant to build a skylight!” We all laughed.

“Yeah,” I said, “after we get a grant to buy a unicorn!”

Look, habits take a while to break.

We need more shows about nonprofit work

Posted on by Vu

Like most executive directors, I come home exhausted from hours of telling staff what to do and taking credit for their work. To de-stress, I’ve started watching ridiculous amounts of television. And I started noticing something. There are plenty of shows about lawyers, doctors, detectives, cooks, servants, zombies, etc., most of them featuring attractive actors who spend endless episodes in frivolous romantic triangles with one another (except the zombies).

Unfortunately, not one of these shows is about nonprofit directors. What kind of example does that set for our kids? Do show producers think we are boring? Do they not realize how incredibly exciting our work is? In either case, I am going to write to David E. Kelley with an idea for a show, called “ED,” featuring a group of Executive Directors of several nonprofits. The show will explore their struggles helping to improve the world while balancing family and other obligations. It will chronicle the hard choices they have to make; the triumphs and challenges; and the friendships they develop, usually through happy hours. There are tons of exciting stuff to mine from the nonprofit world.

Pilot episode: A meeting room at the Coalition for Excellence (CFE). Tension so thick you could carve a statue out of it. Maria, the ED, prepares to present a cashflow report. Things do not look good, and she knows it. Meanwhile, at another nonprofit, Think of the Children (TOTC), Troy is furiously typing. He cries out in pain, cursing his email-induced carpal tunnel syndrome. But this grant is due tomorrow, and it’s a general operating grant! At another nonprofit, Unicycles for Guns (UFG), Vinh, a particularly dashing Asian ED, has a flashback. He is sitting in front of his parents at dinner. He tells them he is pursuing a Master’s in Social Work. They are silent, the sound of their chopsticks clinking on porcelain bowls mournful and ominous. He snaps back to the meeting he’s having with his Development/Human-Resources/Finance-Director/Janitor, Loan. She is tired of having multiple responsibilities and wants to a clearer work plan.

Episode 2: Maria’s board has voted to apply for a line of credit. This is a small victory, short-term. They did not seem to understand that fundraising efforts will need to increase. Staff morale, meanwhile, is down. She calls her Program Director, Arlene, into her office to plan a teambuilding retreat with no funding. At UFG, Vinh’s back hurts from endless hours of meetings. He holds in his hand a grant letter. He is afraid to open it; it could be a rejection. He decides to get it over with, when his phone rings. It’s Troy from TOTC; he got the grant he wrote and is calling, ecstatic, to invite Vinh to happy hour. Vinh looks at the letter in his own hand. “While we had many qualified applicants…” He retraces steps in his mind. Did he talk too much during the site visit? He felt like a failure, imagining all the kids now who couldn’t trade their guns for unicycles.

Episode 3: The Coalition for Excellence wildly succeeds at its annual dinner, and Maria has a good night’s sleep for the first time without Ambien. At TOTC, Troy welcomes an influential board member that he had been pursuing for months, Louis, whom he does not know had a relationship with Maria. He also does not know that Louis has loyalties to Think of the Children’s competitor, Care for the Children (CFTC)! The smart and inexplicably sexy Vinh, meanwhile, finds a coupon for 20% off reams of copy paper. He rushes to Office Depot. Little does he know that at that moment Loan is plotting with the board Treasurer to get Vinh fired.

In the season finale, viewers are left with cliff-hangers: Will Maria get together with Louis? Will Louis destroy Troy’s organization?! Can Arlene find a pro-bono facilitator for the team-building retreat??! Will Vinh be able to carry a ten-ream box of copy paper with his bad back and carpal tunnel???!

If that’s not compelling television, I don’t know what is. I’m going to develop a more detailed script for the pilot episode. Maybe I should add a zombie or two. If they don’t like “ED,” I also thought of another show, one from the perspectives of spouses of Executive Directors and what they go through. It’ll be called “Living with ED.”

Nonprofit peeps, time to go paperless

Posted on by Vu

paperThe amount of paper we use as a sector is pretty embarrassing. We print out everything, and for certain occasions, such as monthly board meetings, entire forests are destroyed in terms of agenda, minutes, budget reports, draft grant proposals, strategic plans, baby pictures, recipe cards, etc. Sometimes I see those emails that say “Please think about the environment before printing out this email.” Emails, however, are about the only things we do not print out. We must stop the madness!

In the age of technology, we really have very little reason to use paper. Most meeting rooms have a projector and screen, data can be instantly emailed, and many people bring their own pads of paper or have electronic tablets for note-taking. Printing, then, is the continuance of years of archaic traditions. But really, just because people used to wear codpieces, does that mean we should continue to wear them? Of course not! Printing out stuff is the equivalent of wearing codpieces, which, while appropriate at Renaissance festivals and some night clubs on Capitol Hill, is just generally silly.

We also perpetuate the silly and inefficient tradition of printing because we don’t want to hurt people’s feelings. For board meetings, for example, we spend hours preparing packages. When our packages are heavy and well-collated, we feel confident and competent. Even more impressive is when different sizes of paper are used, such as that sexy 8×17 budget-to-actuals. These things take time to put together. We like it when people say, “Hey, that’s a great package you got there.” To have people leave them behind would be insulting, like that one time I made my dad a birthday card only to find it in the recycling later. First of all, Dad, that’s hurtful. And second, you can’t recycle dried macaroni.

We don’t want to hurt people’s feelings, and that’s why most of us take home stacks and stacks of paper, throwing them into the backseats of our cars, where they stay until our partners yell at us for the squalid conditions of the vehicles. We all know deep down that we’re not going to read the handouts we take. No one is going to read the handouts they take! Even when someone says something like “Could you email me that Powerpoint?” – the likelihood of them actually reading it later is approximately 5%. The one and only time people probably glance at most documents is during the actual meeting.

For the sake of the environment, let’s change our ridiculous paper abusing habits. Not only that, each year, dozens of people are sent to the emergency room because of paper-related injuries. Backs are broken by picking up stacks of board meeting packets. Hundreds of people get papercuts, which become infected, resulting in gangrene and amputation.

So let’s all knock it off. Let’s email things out in advance. Let’s put the agenda, reports, and drafts onto the screen and review them together. Printing should not be the default, but the exception. And when things do need to be printed out, let’s do it smartly. Can we use both sides? Can we use the backside of scrap papers? Can we make sure the formatting is good so that we don’t have that last page with just one line of text on it?!!!! Seriously, nothing wants to make me go into a beserker-like rage than seeing that one last page with just a few words on it!!!

These are habits we must all ingrain within our organizations. Being thoughtless about paper should be looked down upon the way we now glare at those degenerates who forget their reusable cloth bags when going grocery shopping. For the worst offenders, like people who print multi-page single-sided documents where the last page has only one line, we should mark them with some sort of symbol so that all shall know of their shame and thoughtlessness. They should have to wear a codpiece.

The ED vacation

Posted on by Vu

vacationI am in Vietnam on vacation and have been looking forward to lounging on the beach, a cold coconut in one hand, and in the other: Fundraising: Hands-On Tactics for Nonprofit Groups, by L. Peter Edles, Second Edition. This is not my ideal book for leisure-time reading, but there is no other time to read it, and VFA’s new part-time Development Director, Rachel, insists I read it. Like other effective Development Directors, she can be bossy and scary, always saying stuff like, “Sign this stack of acknowledgement letters by Friday” or “Are you really going to meet a program officer wearing that shirt?” or “Go comb your hair; here’s a Tic-Tac.”

I think there are several reasons for EDs to take long vacations. First, it is a stressful job, and we need time to recharge and de-agify. Second, it is good to put some distance in order to get a clearer perspective on work. And third, it’s a good test for staff in working together to solve problems, and a good leadership experience for whomever is in charge while we’re gone.

Still, it is not as simple as most people think. There’s all this preparation that has to happen first, such as establishing a chain of command. “Hong is in charge,” I said. He smiled, starting to put his fingers into the “power tent” position. “However, you can override him with a two-third majority.”

Then there’s a whole bunch of important projects that have to happen. “UWKC’s outcome reports are due on July 23rd and the demographics reports are due a week later. SVP is still waiting for our program outcomes as well, now that the school year is over. HSD’s contract renewal package should be coming in while I’m gone, but that can be signed electronically, so ensure that if I don’t get to it, find a way to get a hold of me. And of course, don’t forget the CAPACD and Medina grants, which we are still behind on—Actually, you know what, I’ll just cancel my ticket…”

“Go!” they said. Maybe a little too eagerly.

I am now in the beautiful city of Da Lat, in the mountains, 4,500 feet above sea level, at an internet café, because I knew this blog post was due. On my right is a snot-nosed little teenager who is smoking, and his fumes are wafting over as I type this. “Son,” I said “blow your smoke the other direction! I’m trying to work!” There are no laws against smoking indoors here, so I have to suffer. “It’s not me, it’s the wind!” he protests. “I don’t care, knock it off,” I said.

I don’t think EDs can ever truly have a real vacation. We constantly think about the thousands of emails breeding like rabbits in our inbox, about the important time-sensitive stuff we might be missing while we’re away, about how our staff are doing and whether they are planning a mutiny, and then—deep down—all of us are always kind of hoping that they are planning a mutiny. It has made for a very tense few days, and everywhere I go, I hunt down WiFi so I can check my emails on my smart phone. Three days ago, I was in my home village, up in the mountains, where pine trees grow out of red earth, beautiful and tranquil. And where there is no WiFi! For three days I couldn’t check my email. I was going through withdrawal symptoms, twitching and scratching. But then, I started relaxing a little bit!

For almost all my vacations, the first five or six days are spent with a severe cold. This seems to happen with other EDs. I think the constant high level of stress keeps our immune system working, and as soon as we relax, it also takes a vacation. This year is no different. I have been sick two days now, hacking and coughing and stuffed up. Last night, we went to a pharmacy, where they prescribed four different kinds of medicines, and I have no idea what they are. This idiot next to me continues to smoke. I am irritated. It’s no fun being sick. But I have only myself to blame. I shouldn’t have gotten so relaxed! Stress keeps me from getting sick. There’s only one thing to do: I’ll go back to my hotel and open Fundraising: Hands-On Tactics. I’ve tucked a copy of VFA’s cash flow chart in the book.

The art of receiving bad news

Posted on by Vu

bad newsMy sister turned 21. It was an emotional day. You get a number of those moments in your life where you realize that time is finite. Getting your first grey hair. Your mother stopping to catch her breath on a walk. Seeing your baby sister, whom you taught to ride a tiny bike, become of drinking age.

But absolutely worst of all is being mistaken for your father at your sister’s 21st birthday dinner at a Mexican restaurant by her friend who is a waitress there. “And is this your father?” she asked. Linda, my sister, cracked up. I would have run into the bathroom crying, but the chips and salsa were addictive and they kept refilling it.

In the last five years, I have aged ten years. The economy has not been kind to us nonprofit directors. In fact, it’s been grabbing us by the neck and giving us noogies and stealing our lunch money. Tuesday, I received news that a school we partner with did not receive a major grant that we were hoping for. We had worked on that proposal with the school for weeks. Receiving the notice was like getting smacked in the face with a frozen cantaloupe.

I was at my desk, trying to compose a bad-news email to the staff. We are a small organization, and every staff feels every victory and defeat. It is easy to write victory announcements: “Yay, we did it! Teamwork! Synergy! Eff one-ply toilet paper, we’re going two-ply! etc.” It is much harder to write a defeat email. I was drafting one when Mr. Nguyen, our Administrative Assistant, came by to talk to me.

Dear everyone, I was typing, we did not get the grant. I know this is disappointing. We gave it a valiant effort…

“Vu?” said Mr. Nguyen in his soft, eloquent voice, “your signature is not good.”

“Huh?” I said. Sure, we knew our chances were slim, but I was still hopeful. In the next several weeks, please do not get sick or injured, as we might have to cut your health insurance…

“Vu,” said Mr. Nguyen, “your signature, it’s disconnected.” I looked at the piece of paper he was holding, a form approving some office supplies. “See, you have two parts to your signature. That’s not good. It means you’re distancing yourself from your family.”

I was getting annoyed, even though he was just trying to help. “Yes, thank you for your advice.”

“You should make your signature one stroke. Underline it for support. The line adds confidence, strength.”

Argh! All Vietnamese signatures are the same: loopy squiggle with an underline. Mr. Nguyen was encouraging me to make my signature like that. I like my loop, squiggle, loop squiggle signature and didn’t need him to tell me that it was bad luck, especially when I had to send out an encouraging email to the troops after devastating news.

If we all work overtime to raise funds, and form a task-force to dumpster dive for snacks for our programs, we may just be able to weather this storm with only one or two layoffs…

But maybe he’s right. After signing so many things each week, I have dreaded signing anything, especially expense authorization, so the signature has gotten sloppy. Maybe something good will happen if I listen to Mr. Nguyen and work on my signature. Stranger things have happened at the office. Two years ago, we had some cash flow issue due to a heavy reimbursement check that had been delayed two months due to government bureaucracy. Frustrated and desperate and at the office till midnight, I looked at our one lone houseplant, a money tree. It had been dying, its leaves brown and sad. Not knowing what else to do about our cash flow, I decided to prune the tree of its dead leaves and branches. A week later, the tree started looking healthy, and I swear the check came in, and our cash flow was normal again!

Now the money tree has died. My signature apparently sucks and Mr. Nguyen thinks that’s a sign of poor character. I couldn’t blame the waitress for thinking I’m thirty years older than I am.

Each month, some of us ED’s go out for happy hour. It’s like a support group. There we console one another and talk of a bright and idyllic future. We sip our well drinks and stare into the distance, imagining a nonprofit world where all funds are multi-year and for general operating, where we ED’s could focus more of our attention on improving our services. A world with retirement funds and dental insurance for all our staff, where funders standardize their budget forms. “Hang in there,” we would say to one another, “one day, the economy will improve, you’ll see. It’ll be a beautiful day.” “Golly, Vu, do you really think so?” “Shucks, I know so.” But we all know it’ll take a while, perhaps years, perhaps never. We all dream.

And we all take advantage of senior discounts.