Just get over it...

Natalie Hahn O'Flaherty

DGC Principal

nho@dirtygirlsconsulting.com

Get over yourself.
Get over your fears.
Get over those hurt, misunderstood feelings.
Get over those hurdles.

Because once you get over, you can get on, right?  Get on with your goals, get on with your dreams, get on with your life.  The only thing holding us back from getting on is getting over.

There's merit to this.  "Get over it" suggests that sometimes, it doesn't help us to spend obstinate hours mulling over why a meeting went sideways or why our words were misunderstood.  Sometimes, it really is in our best interest to chalk it up to experience, to chance or mishap, and just keep plowing forward.  Especially in those situations where there's no fix, there's no changing the outcome, and there's really little chance for a future repeat.  Get over it and get on with it.

However, "get over it" can also be an excuse to gloss over an uncomfortable moment.

I've referred several times in my blogs and postings to the "glass obstacle course" that women in business face - women in any business, but especially in male dominated industries.  I've been noodling over a series of blogs about the glass obstacle course concept, and last week, I wrote a list of what I perceive those obstacles to be.  As I wrote it, I thought, "Wow, I am starting to sound like one of those strident femi-Nazis that Rush Limbaugh used to make fun of…"  And suddenly, concern about being assigned to that particular group paused my list-making.  What is it in my generation that makes many women uncomfortable with the word "feminist"?  Is it because we're sandwiched between the extreme stereotype of the man-hating, bra burning, "second wave feminists" of the 60s and 70s, and the blithely oblivious millennials who still have a thin understanding of the impact gender plays in our lives, at work and at home?  I scribbled some notes, I expanded my list of glass obstacles, and I sat uncomfortably with the idea of being a feminist writer. 

And then I just got over it.

Worrying about being labeled is something that I can justify needing to "just get over it."  I can't control any name-calling or pigeon-holing that might take place based on how someone interprets my words.

But I can't justify "just getting over" the obstacles on the list I created. We need to work through these, sometimes crush these… but we do ourselves a disservice to ignore or make light of them. Workplace challenges are very real.  Telling women to just get over it means telling them to play along to get along in corporate America - in the name of getting along with men.  This is not a new concept but what I keep seeing are articles and videos and speeches by women, for women, that tell us how to play the game.  Sheryl Sandberg's Lean In describes a lot of the challenges in corporate culture.  She lays out in the open the pitfalls women face when advancing their careers.  But her guidance to other women is very narrow.  Her own story, while true to her, isn't everyone's story.  Not all of us have a wonderfully supportive husband.  Not all of us have husbands.  Not all of us want to play the corporate game under the existing rules of engagement. Anne Marie Slaughter tells women they can't have it all… at least, not what they want when the want it.  Life is about making decisions but if you believe you can't have your all when and where you want it, then you're right. You won't. You already decided that.

The majority of advice women hear is about contorting themselves to conform to the man's game.  This still puts the control in the hands of men - we adjust our rhythms to a pattern men are comfortable and then we can get ahead. But I posit that men and women don't even define "having it all" the same way, so why are we playing their game?

There are two concepts I want to discuss throughout my next several blogs:

• First, the glass obstacle course is real.  Some obstacles are there as a result of history and culture.  Some are there because we women put them there.  It is worth the time to examine them and figure out the smartest way to get over them.  Some we will need to smash. Some we might rebuild into a new pathway through.  And some, well, we might just need to get over them.  
• Second, there's no denying office politics, corporate culture and games that are played when climbing the proverbial ladder.  You want to play that game - you want that c-level title?  Fine.  That's an admirable objective.  But does that mean you need to play their game? We need to explore our own power to change the rules and the outcomes of these games.  Educate our peers - male and female - on our expectations for the rules of engagement.

I invite you to join me on an exploration of the glass obstacle course and the rules of engagement.  Everyone's is a little bit different, but I bet many of the obstacles I've seen and faced are the same as yours.  We're not going to smash every obstacle, but we're going to do our best to avoid those tiny, painful slivers of glass when we do.  More than anything, we will have an honest conversation about what we want and how we go about getting it. On our terms.

As always, your comments and thoughts are welcome.  And don't forget to share this blog!

The joy of surprise. The beauty of routine.

Natalie Hahn O'Flaherty

DGC Principal

nho@dirtygirlsconsulting.com

I like surprises.

At Corkscrew Sanctuary

Once or twice a year, I pull my kids out of school for a "surprise day"… instead of sitting in the classroom going through another set of math drills and literary lessons, we paddle board in the gulf of Mexico, kayak amidst the mangroves or hike trails through wildlife sanctuaries.  Or we sit in an empty movie theater, then overeat bacon burgers, seasoned fries and chocolate shakes.  I believe going out and experiencing life is just as educational as sitting in a classroom.  I believe spending time together is even more enlightening - for all of us.  I thought this made me a cool parent.  While my kids appreciate a day out of school, they have taught me something: we are wired very differently.

Parasailing at
Ft. Myers beach

When my offspring hear, "Today is surprise day!" the house echoes with groans, "What now?" My daughter scrambles to evaluate her homework list and test schedule to determine if she can take the time off.  My sons rolls their eyes, exchange knowing looks and mutter about the next lame adventure I am forcing upon them.  Those initial moments of jarring them out of their routine and into something unexpected are, well, painful.  Every single time.

So much of what we do on a daily basis is mired in habit and routine.  On the one hand, that's efficient.  It helps everyone get along.  We know exactly what we're doing and exactly what to expect.  On the other hand, we can get so accustomed to our routines and expectations that we don't pause to note: are we really happy?  Are we living our life or just reacting to a series of expected events?

Mariachi Band at GermanFest 2012

Unexpected moments shake us out of the routine and open our eyes to a new perspective.  While kayaking in March, we learned about muscles we clearly never used before and cruised through the mangroves with giant turtles.  On a trip to the dog beach, we learned that our water spaniel was actually afraid of the water. Once we went to a German festival where the featured performance was a Mexican mariachi band with a four foot iguana.  We learned a lot about iguanas on that excursion.  Some of our surprise trips turn into a new path altogether. On one adventure, my husband met a university professor who strongly encouraged him to study ancient languages and pursue an advanced degree.  This chance meeting led to two masters' degrees and then several years as a tour guide leading educational excursions throughout Italy and Greece.

Our car, Jessie, in flames. 

What we do in the moment, how we respond when a new idea or opportunity is presented to us, makes the difference between an interesting story and a significant life change.  But how we're wired also makes a difference.  My husband and I are big opportunists - and I mean that in the nicest sense of the word. My children look at it as disruptive, potentially derailing them from a perfectly good plan.  The caution that holds them back is not necessarily misplaced… not all risks pay off, not all spontaneous ideas pan out.  Not all adventures are good.  One Easter Sunday, our meandering excursion smacked us right into a white sedan in which a woman texting while making a u-turn.  We felt pangs from that little adventure for months.

My wiring loves surprises, craves the adventure of 'what's next' without really knowing just what that is. But sometimes when we are building our lives, and especially when we are responsible for others, settling into some more predictable patterns and establishing a sense of stability grows more important.

Sika the herder (front) and Leo (back)
the water spaniel who hates water

And there is something to be said for the blessing of routines. Every Sunday, I take my mutts to the dog park. That's a routine I embrace. Once there, my herder runs all the other dogs in wide loops, barking to keep everyone in line and running in the same direction.  My spaniel outruns all the others - except one golden retriever with a much longer stride - leading the way for his herding partner.  They run the same loops every week.  They are happy running those loops.  They run. They break for water.  They sniff.
They meander.  Then wham!  Back to running loops.  This is their routine.  And they love it.

We are happy repeating our loops, too. We go to work.  Or school. We come home. We do chores.  We see friends.  We play - eat, drink, sport, whatever our pleasure.  We repeat.  It's a good life.

Petting a baby gator

I'm not suggesting we stop running loops. Those loops provide the basis of our home culture: familiar routines that minimize the number of battles I referee between three teenagers, that accomplish just enough chores to keep the city health board away, that get us regularly to work, to school, and on Sundays, to the dog park. But just remember now and then that even the most idyllic routine is worth a pause: once in a while, wander off track to see what surprise awaits you on an unexplored path.  That short excursion can be just enough to recharge you and return you to your loops with a greater appreciation of the life you have built.

Are you an adventurer at heart or fond of familiarity? Has a spontaneous adventure ever taken you on a completely different path?  I would love to hear about your excursions and how you recharge.

And don't forget to share this post!

Smashing Status Quo: Creating Pauses in the Change Process

If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading. (Lao Tzu)

Human beings are primed for patterns.  We love consistency and predictability. It gives us a sense of security and control.  It allows us to create our own comfortable sphere in which we can rule and relax.

It is a knee-jerk reaction for most of us to resist any new proposal, whether we're in our personal life sphere or our professional life one.

Can Brandon spend the night? No... I'm too tired...  

Can we adjust the agenda to include a benefits discussion?  Sorry, no time...

Should we implement that new marketing automation software? That will change our lead process... oh, dear...

Our "no" response has slipped through our lips before we've given most proposals even two full seconds of consideration.  

But when you are the leader of an initiative to alter the status quo, how do you manage the tsunami of resistance that is inevitably crashing against your sandy shores of change? 

You have to create pauses. That pause is a momentary reflection - for you. For your team. It gives you space to breathe and think about what is really about to happen and put it in perspective.

First pause: let's recognize the status quo. Openly acknowledge and understand that this is where we are today, and this is what it means. Take your team through an "impact analysis" (current-state, future-state, gap analysis) exercise.  It's a common exercise, but it's one we often forget to do in the context of helping our teams through the change process. Going through this exercise reveals several important points to - and about - your team:

• it provides an agreed-upon understanding what today looks like
• it ensures a shared vision for where you're going
• it involves everyone in identifying the "gaps"
• it will show you the different levels of self-awareness among your team members
• it will show you who's bought in, who's not, and how far you have to go

Progress is a nice word. But change is a motivator. And change has its enemies. (Robert Kennedy)

The impact analysis exercise will help you identify who on your team can be helpful change agents, and who is going to require some nurturing to get them to the desired end state. While you want to employ your champions to help drive necessary actions, you also want to coach them along helping their more reluctant team members to open up to change. If your champions merely push forward with implementing change, they will be seen as puppets of the regime, enforcing an agenda... not a team player working to improve the business.

One way to help shake up the status quo way of thinking, and empower your team to embrace new and original approaches, is to stop talking and give them something to do.  Second pause: exercises that test their mettle when faced with non-traditional dilemmas.  Do you recall the exercise Mel Gibson went through in "What Women Want"?  He put on pantyhose, wore lipstick, tried to figure out how it felt to be a woman.  Way outside his comfort zone. Maybe you don't have to go that far, but looking at problem from a different point of view - from a different constituent, from a different industry - can be enlightening.  Or think about it from the "Apollo 13" angle: you have a limited number of supplies and you have to solve a life-saving problem - how can you use those tools, not at all designed for your problem, to save lives? 

Less dramatic but no less illuminating is an example I read about in an article last week: hand your team a candle, a book of matches and a box of thumbtacks.  Their mission is to somehow attach the candle to the wall, light it and ensure no wax drips on the floor or wall.  What do you do?  You empty the box of thumbtacks, tack the box to the wall and put the candle in it.  Who in your group, however, will literally think "outside the box"?  But once they see the light (pun intended)... you've shaken up the status quo.

For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked, "If this were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" 

And if the answer is "no" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.  (Steve Jobs)

Sometimes going beyond simple acknowledgement can help your team let go of an entrenched pattern. Years ago when we were integrating a new team from a company we had recently acquired, I was battling the newcomers over the fact that we were changing the product name to be more in line with our corporate standards. While logically the team understood why we were making the change, there was still resentment and concern over the process.  Third pause: a mentor of mine made a suggestion that I thought was bizarre... and yet... at that stage I had nothing to lose and after pausing long enough to consider what affect it could have, we did it. We hosted a funeral.  The old product name was dead, but the spirit of the product lives on... in a different name, of course.  But the act of hosting a funeral - well, truthfully, more like an Irish wake with many rounds of Guinness and some great story-telling - allowed the acquired team to both laugh at the absurdity and mark the end of an era.  

We can't always promise that change is for the better. We can't ensure that every team member will embrace it and go forth. But we can be sensitive to the fact that our patterns are ingrained in us, for better and for worse, and if we work with them instead of pushing so hard against them, we can move forward a lot farther and a lot faster.  So pause. Breathe. Reflect. And then find a new way to smash through that status quo that brings everyone along with you, and not just staring at shattered pieces.