Learning #33 : Good management is a honed skill

Not everybody is a good manager.  In fact, some people are pretty terrible managers. 

This is not something that’s generally discussed, officially, in a business setting.  On the contrary, the open exploration of what makes someone a really bad manager is a pretty taboo subject around the old conference room table.

And so, as someone who reads a lot of business books, I found myself genuinely surprised at the frank honesty of “Multipliers,” which tackles this sticky subject head-on.  This book teaches us that those great managers, the Multipliers, the ones under whom people stretch themselves and work their hardest and best, can increase the collective IQ and consequent effectiveness of an organization.  Whereas the bad managers - the Diminishers - suck the intelligence out of their organization, leading to a literal brain drain that dumbs down even the once-bright folks who have given up but stick around anyway.  (The "Quit and Stay," as its called in the book.)

This kind of frank discussion about both the qualifiable and quantifiable effects of bad management and bad managers, specifically, may be an uncomfortable subject for a lot of people to address directly, particularly given that the subject of bad management is most effectively addressed with the bad managers themselves.  But it’s crucial that senior management address the topic, because avoiding the subject doesn’t quell the conversation.  It just moves it.

Frustrated employees will start these conversations with peers over lunch, in carpool, behind closed doors after a particularly awful meeting, and in other secreted places so as not to be overheard by others who might either be negatively affected by their observations, or simply in a position to punish anyone making them.

Like all bad leaders, bad managers eventually frustrate and demoralize their employees.  People frustrated by an absence of good leadership will, inevitably, band together in a sort of dysfunctional camaraderie that will ultimately lead to a downward morale spiral if the root cause isn’t addressed. 

And once morale is shot, it’s really difficult to bring it back.  Bad morale systemically destroys once-healthy departments and can spread to others, the last of which is much more likely if the management dysfunction causing the problem in the first place is peppered throughout an organization.  Uninspired, unhappy people deliver, predictably, uninspired and unhappy work. 

So: to avoid creating a work environment that inadvertently rewards bad management by ignoring it, it’s imperative that we learn to recognize and discuss both good and bad management styles.  Remember, the conversations are going to happen anyway, so you as an organization should want to participate, learn, and move forward.

“Multipliers” gives us a guidebook for recognizing and understanding both excellent and terrible management, complete with charts and matrixes for those of us who appreciate such cheat sheets.  It also relies on extensive research and data to let the most left-brain of us know why this is important, as well as a staggering number of personal anecdotes to drive the point home for the right-brainers.

Basically, it’s “Goofus and Gallant” for the workplace.  Read it.

Learning #32 : Diversity is What You Make of It

When we were looking to move out of Oakland and to a neighborhood that we felt was more amenable to two women, 4 dogs and one baby, the mention of The Suburbs by my partner always made me (and my Oakland friends backing my reluctance to even look for housing in The Suburbs) wince about the lack of diversity therein.

I mean, it’s the Suburbs. Ozzie and Harriet.  Leave it to Beaver.  The American archetype of white picket fences and white picket people and kids riding their bikes to sleepovers in the well-kept homes of other white, straight nuclear families … yikes.  How would we fit in there?

And then, one day, I realized that my objection about the "lack of diversity" meant "lack of people like me" (read: gay), which is ironically the opposite of embracing diversity.  And then I had to wonder if maybe I was being just a wee bit judgemental and consequently self-limiting about the suburbs...

...especially since these suburbs are, after all, San Francisco Bay Area suburbs.  I had one friend in real estate tell me that we should be more concerned about folks worrying about our dogs (we have pit bulls) than about us being gay.

But she was wrong.  As it turns out, nobody seems particularly bothered by any of us.  In fact, when I wrote the blog post about moving to the suburbs, it didn't even occur to me to discuss the "There are no gay people here" issue, because it's just not really something that's part of our daily consciousness.

Of course, it’s not entirely true that there are no gay people here, because we’re here.  And we know 4 other 2-mom families, which makes for a pretty sweet Pride Parade of ten.

And I heard on my Moms forum that a few people know of, you know, A Gay Family here and there, so there might actually be 20 of us.

We’re so mighty, in fact, that we actually started our own Lesmorinda Moms Facebook group which, truthfully, was a joke, but then I heard from The Other Gay Family here in our town (we met at the park – Gaydar apparently still works on this side of the Caledcott tunnel) that they'd heard there was a Lesmorinda Moms group, so who knows? Maybe we'll be mighty.

(In fact, please go “Like” us so that we have more fans.  Because if you don’t, it means you don’t like gay people.  So go on, now: become a fan.)

But I’ve strayed off the main topic, which is: diversity in the suburbs.  And here’s the truth: there really aren't very many gay families in Moraga itself, but the Orinda folks tell me that there are more gay families than you might think, which is to say that there are more gay families than black families, but of course that’s not saying a whole lot, so… 

Yes: this is a very white neighborhood.  And this is a very straight neighborhood.  And most the dogs around here are of the purebred variety.

And that of course does not describe us (well, we’re white), which led to one of our biggest concerns moving out here: will we stick out?   Will people have an attitude about it?  Will our child feel different and awkward about her “novel” home life once she’s in school?

And the answer, so far, seems to be: Nope.

I mean, really, nobody cares to the point that people are almost embarrassingly welcoming.  I have been approached at both the Farmer’s Market and the park by straight women (on more than one occasion, at each) gushing that they’re thrilled that we’re here and that they’ve been waiting for more gay families and diversity to arrive and that it’s about time and that they hope more of us show up.

In fact, most the time people seem a little apologetic about the lack of more gay families here for us to play with.  It’s really sort of cute.

And nobody has actually given us the "Good God, there goes the neighborhood" glare except for one insane woman with a dog-aggressive Schipperke who frequents our local park, and she doesn't seem to like much about anything.

I will note here that a friend with a kindergartener did have her daughter come home and tell her that the girls in her class told her that she dressed like a boy, simply because she had a t-shirt on with a truck on it. I do think that folks here tend to be much more gender-specific in dressing their kids, but I also think that the neighborhoods will continue to loosen up on a narrow definition of gender roles due to lack of exposure to anything different as gay families decide that, shit, the'burbs are pretty freaking nice, and maybe it's time to be part of the diversity that makes this a normal thing for everyone.

And, while this most assuredly isn't Berkeley or Oakland or San Francisco, meaning that we don’t have the same level of socioeconomic or racial diversity, we move to The Suburbs to escape the annoyances of Berkeley or Oakland or San Francisco, most notably things like crime, sub-par schooling, and an utter lack of parking.  There is a tradeoff here, and it’s one that ended up being less of an issue than I thought it might be.

For one thing, when my partner asked me to honestly to list our Oakland friends and explain to her how this list of people could possibly count as being any more "diverse" than friends I might hang out with in the 'burbs, the best I could come up with were that a few were gay, one was a doula and a couple had Asian husbands. 

As it turns out, our friend list profile is much the same here.  I don't know anyone with an Asian husband (though I've seen them around), but I know an actual interracial lesbian couple, so I think that counts as 2 straight couples in Diverse Neighborhood Monopoly.

(The last of which would be a pretty awesome board game, actually.  Community Chest: hosting Cabaret night for the boys!  $100 for Cocktails.)

We may be starting a trend moving here, actually, because one of the Orinda Gays told me about another set of lesbians heading out this way.  Secret Fist Bump, Sapphic Sisters – I’ll show you the hiking trails where your inevitably rescued dogs can roam, and I’ll let you in on the delicious secret that you are allowed to wear comfy shoes here all the time.  I mean, men wear Crocs here. It’s utterly ridiculous, and yet so awesome in that suburban way that also apparently permits everyone from teenage girls to octogenarians to wear sweatpants in public.

Ultimately, our decision to brave the straight white people was that we are a family first, and we’re gay second. The 'burbs are freaking nice for families; why let all the straight people corner the market on safety, good schools, and nice neighbors?  Our next-door neighbors are indeed white and have 3 kids, but they’re also European and really interesting and their kids are great, and I actually talk to them.  Popping by the next-door neighbor's house is something that I never did in Oakland, in the 7 years I lived there.  I barely knew them.

Now, I can just drop by offspring next door to go to an appointment or something.  Or I can borrow a lemon.  Or I can just stop by for a "spot of tea" (they're Scottish) and feel suddenly cosmopolitan about it all.

Diversity, after all, is really what you make of it.