Dan Erwin

Nine Rules for Successful Personal Change

In one of her astute blogs, Rosabeth Kanter of Harvard Business School, writes about change and emphasizes the difficulties of what she labels the "miserable middle."  Put it this way, it isn't change that does you in, it's the transition from where you are to where you want to get to. 

My clients have spoken to me often about the difficulty of their changes: getting a new boss, getting a new role, gaining new subordinates, working across different disciplines--and on and on.

There are times when I think that I've lived a charmed life.  When I went from parish minister to seminary professor, from a person with fingers in every hole in the dike, to a teacher with a narrow focus and motivated students, it was an easy transition.  I've talked about the difference as a "slide."  I just went down the slide to the teaching profession.  After all, a great deal of of parish ministry is about teaching.  Besides, I liked being free at night and not having to spend Saturday preparing sermons and Sundays preaching.  I loved my weekends with family--and occasionally, just skipped church.  In short, there was no miserable middle, no muddling around with the transition between my previous position and my new position.

But there are many occasions in life and in business when the transition is not only muddy and miserable, but also downright painful.  One of my clients worked for a promotion and a transfer to a new group with new role and new responsibilities for over a year.  He had a great boss and great job, but he was ready for a change.  When he finally got what he was after, he was in for a surprise.  It wasn't the work.  He loved the work.  It provided all the opportunities for career growth he wanted.  But the boss, he learned rather quickly, didn't know how to delegate, gave poor feedback, and couldn't be trusted.  He's dealt fairly well with the endings.  He can no longer go out the door at 4:30.  He's let go of the relationships that were important to him.  He used to know where to go for resources and how to get help.  Now that's a different ball game.  But the most painful ending is that he's lost a boss who was a genius at development of her people and immensely supportive of him. 

So now he has to start all over building his network of support and intelligence, figuring out how to gain the resources he needs, and identifying the truly helpful people in his organization.  But most of all, and it was a shock to his sytem, he's muddled around with one transitional problem for six months.  He's trying to figure out how to work with a boss who's not quite an asshole, but definitely a real jerk.  He didn't expect that problem in his change, but there you go.  Two great bosses in his six years of work, and two real jerks.  It's a fifty-fifty deal, and from my perspective, not a bad batting average.

It's been a painful experience of change, but--at my insistence--over the months he's gotten appropriately philosophical about the transition process, and gradually figured out how to work with a boss that's a jerk.  The difficulties of change are usually about the transition period in the middle.

I should have warned my readers.  I've gotten way behind in blogging over the past few weeks because of what may be one of the most difficult transitions in my entire life.  And over the past two months I've been muddling through it.   As a result of my wife's illness, and with the input of my kids, I've downsized from a large five-bedroom home with a long family history, into a large two-bedroom apartment.  Dealing with my wife's illness was an emotional transition for me.  I've come a long way in the past year in my ability to manage those emotions and my new identity.  But the transition of downsizing was unbelievably painful, wearing and fatiguing.  It's all the endings I had to deal with.  What am I going to give away?  What will the kids want?  What is no longer necessary?  Where do I donate this stuff?  Pianos don't sell in today's world, so who will I give that beautiful Baldwin to?  What furniture is going to go?  And what about all the art work and pictures that identified us over the years? 

At last I'm settled into a practically new apartment: multi-generational, not a senior residence, thank you very much.  My office is in place and my study is far larger than ever before.  I've hired a designer to work over the apartment with new furniture, drapes, etc.  Funny, the most significantly warm experience was a beautiful collage of family pictures that my designer put together in the hallway leading out of the living room.  As soon as those pictures were up, I began to feel at home, even though new furniture for the living room won't arrive for a couple months.  I've always puttered around in the kitchen, and though this one is not as cutting-edge as the one in my old house, it's doable. I can adapt.

What have I learned about transition and muddling?  Here are nine rules that'll travel very well.

1. Figure out your change and just get on with it.  One of the experts in the field told me that I moved very quickly to make the necessary changes.  "It usually takes years for people to make that decision and act on it."  Years???##
2. Identify who's losing what.  I realized that my daughters would want some of the things, so I let them cruise during August and take what they wanted.  My youngest wanted only one thing: six books.  That was it.  My eldest, who does a great deal of entertaing, took the large credenza and dining room furniture, china, crystal and sterling.  The middler took a great deal of the bedroom furniture.  The eldest quickly had it all shipped from Minneapolis to Boston.  They didn't want to lose those things.  And as expected, there was not the slightest difference of opinion about any of the things.  Aside from me, they were the only ones losing anything, and they worked out the differences rather easily.  No squabbling--nor even negotiating. 
3. Acknowledge your losses--openly and sympathetically.  I had a number of conversations with clients, friends and family about my losses.  Most of all, those walls talked to me.  They had a lot of wonderful history within them.  My friends all listened, supported and encouraged.  I was surprised by how many wanted to understand my decision process and how I took action.  One architect said she'd be facing that transition with her parents and wanted as much help as possible.
4. Just let go.  There are inevitable losses.  I decided to toss a lot of things that had meaning to me.  At first it was very difficult.  But after a few days of tossing, the pain goes away.  (I filled a 30' dumpster, eight' deep to overflowing. After all, we gathered stuff in that house for 36 years.)
5. Expect to grieve.  It was damned painful.  My emotions were up and down.  Occasionally I found myself dealing with doubts about what I was doing. But I set them aside and just gutted it out.
6. You're going to miss some work days.  I've taken several days to check out.  People who change jobs and roles typically need a few days off to manage the transitions in their new life.  Indeed, I found that if I tried to work, my brain stalled.  I couldn't think and had zip motivation.  So take care of yourself.  Talk to the friends in your network.  They'll listen if you limit the conversation to less than 15 minutes. 
7. Surprisingly, it's also been a creative time for me.  Figuring out what I was no longer going to do and what I really needed has actually been liberating.  I gave away one of my desks, boxed several thousand books for eventual gifts to the University, putting them and a few tools that I'll still use into storage, tossed my old bookshelves and bought new white bookshelves for my new study.  Most significantly, I've added 30 to 45 minutes of daily time to my exercise schedule.  (For a guy who usually gains weight under stress, I've already lost 15 pounds.  Not too shabby.)
8. As Bill Bridges puts it, recognize that transition isn't a trip from one of the side of the street to the other.  It's a journey from one identity to the other--and that will take time.
9. In summary, once you've made your decision to make change, do it.  Take action.  No acting, is acting.  Don't dither around.  Take some solid steps and GET ON WITH IT.

Quotation of the Week: Bob Sutton, Stanford Business School

Devoting relentless attention to doing one good thing after another--however small--is the only path I know to becoming and remaining a great boss.

--Bob Sutton, PhD, from Good Boss, Bad Boss

As a rule great bosses, like great employees are not people who continually meet one huge objective after another in great leaps and bounds.  Instead, as Sutton makes very clear, relentless attention to doing one good thing after another remains the key performance attribute of the best achievers. 

What's true in Sutton's observation is true about all learning.  Many think it's important to go after huge objectives.  But the research shows that it won't work.  It's a fact that I address in an earlier blog, Why small changes work and big changes don't.  Successful changes, like successful managing, take place in small chunks resulting in small wins, which over the long-time result in large successes as a result of the multiplier effect.

Planning to Own a Home? Not Necessarily a Wise 21st Century Decision.

Home ownership has always been the great promise of American society.  For generations we've believed and been taught that home ownership is is an axiomatic good.  As a recent article in Time pointed out, our politicians have pressed that objective for generations.  Herbert Hoover argued that homeownership could "change the very physical, mental and moral fiber of one's own children."  Franklin Roosevelt, facing a world war, taught that homeowners were unconquerable."  George H.W. Bush's Secretary of Housing, Jack Kemp, believed that home ownership would "save babies, save children, save families and save America."  Home ownership is the way to transform a nation.

Realizing that my youngest daughter might not be able to buy a home in expensive L.A., I confess to a bit of nostalgia.  My knee-jerk response was that she'd remain a second-class citizen in spite of her many resources.  I come from a long history of property owners.  My parents stressed its value.  And my forbears for generations back were middle-class tobacco farmers, who always owned property, and never were without resources, even in the depths of the first Depression.  Inevitably, I was shocked to hear my daughter say that she really didn't want the responsibility.  She's a confirmed renter. 

So Barbara Kiviat's Time article made for thoughtful ruminating.  Of course she emphasizes the dark side of homeownership, the all too apparent forclosures and walkaways and neighborhoods plagued by abandoned properties and plummeting home values.  Thus, many of my friends, homeowners, have come to the conclusion that homeowning is liable not to be a very good investment for the coming decades.

Kiviat calls attention to the dark side of home ownership:  it contributed to the hollowing out of cities, kept renters out of the best neighborhoods and fed America's overuse of energy.  Most significantly, homeownership in recent years has made it very difficult for those who lost jobs to find another.  They can't sell their house without losing much of their retirement, and they lack the mobility to search for jobs elsewhere.  As a result they're caught.  Of course, in places like Michigan and Nevada they're just walking away in search for jobs. 

Two pieces of research on the subject are especially intriguing.  An economist, Andrew Oswald, in studies dating fifteen years ago, found that in the U.K. that places with high homeownership rates seemed to have high rates of unemployment as well.  That rings true in the U.S.  Some of the highest cities with homeownership have stagnant Rust Belt economies:  Detroit; Allentown, PA; Rochester, N.Y.; Akron, Ohio.  In contrast, if you've spent much time in Europe, you know that there is a much higher rate of rental. 

In a second study, Lawrence Katz of Harvard and Olivier Blanchard of MIT, found that it takes U.S. regions about six years to recover from a spike in unemployment.  Americans are more prone to move in search of other jobs when faced with a downturn.  Indeed, in a typical year nearly 40 million Americans move on to new areas in search of new opportunities.  That is, they move is they can.  If they're free to do so.  And if, they're not burdened with a house that can't be sold because of market limitations.  In today's economy, house mortgages can be a millstone. 

So what's a Gen-Yer or Gen-Xer to do.  Planning to someday own a home?  I'd give that a serious second thought.  Barbara Kiviat concludes her article with this:  Stuck in her house in Maryland, unable to move for her husband's dream job in California, having spent thousands of dollars and countless hours on various home repairs, Jean Hartzell reflects on their decision to buy a house.  "It's been a really big learning experience," she says.  "I would say I'm glad that I did it."  Then she stops.  "I think I am.  I'm not sure."  When her friends tell her they're considering buying a house, she says, "You know, it's not what we were raised to think it would be."

Oh yeah.  I've just finished the move from our large suburban home to an apartment, a mile closer to downtown Minneapolis.  I'll tell you about the difficulties of that move and personal transition in the next week or so.  Thus far, you should know, it's a very wise decision.

On Making a Major Personal Transition

My silence over the past ten days is because of a very significant personal transition I've made.  Over the next week I intend to explain my transition, and point to the implications of this transition in a recessional economy.  Surprisingly, there is some unique, even fascinating research about the implications of my transition. 

I've gone from being the owner of a home for more than thirty-five years--in a Midwestern neighborhood--to becoming an apartment renter.  My initial response was "so what?"  But current research has a lot to say about that "so what?" and points to a similar change needed in our culture for people to succeed in their careers.  That's not the understanding or the objective I grew up with, but there it is.  Stay tuned for an explanation that applies even more to Gen-Yers.

Quotation of the Week: Dwight Eisenhower

I should like to assure you, my Islamic friends, that under the American Constitution, under American tradition, and in American hearts, this Center, this place of worship, is just as welcome as could be a similar edifice of any other religion.  Indeed, America would fight with her whole strength for your right to have here your own church and worship according to your own conscience.  This concept is indeed a part of America, and without that concept we would be something else than what we are.

--President Dwight Eisenhower, at the opening of the Islamic Center on Massachusetts Avenue in Washington,   1957.

In an intriguing editorial, Jon Meacham addressed the current brouhaha over the proposed Islamic center near Ground Zero.  No question that a few Muslims were responsibile for bombings in London, Madrid, the Trade Center and elsewhere.  Still, you don't make decisions about a religion or a political movement based on the actions of a few fanatics.  Meacham's historical perspective supports the insights and balance of Mayor Bloomberg's articulate comments regarding the Islamic Center.

What's obvious is that the  proposed center has become a football, largely for the hoi' polloi outside New York, and of course a number of politicians are using the issue to further their own ends.  My suspicion is that if the economy were much better and far fewer out of work, the center would have gone unnoticed--in spite of 9/11.  Busy hands are happy hands.  But if you've got only time on your hands, then all kinds of opportunities for conflict and complaint surface.   And there's always someone around to take advantage of that unhappiness. 

As Meacham comments, sometimes life offers stark moral choices.  This is not one of them.  To indict a faith for the sins of a few is tricky business.  As anyone with a little history in their background knows, Christians have certainly massacred their share of the population.  

No question, though, that Islam needs reform.  Thankfully, most American Protestants (and I say "most") have made peace with the modern world and its changes.  Such reform still hasn't started in the Islamic world where poverty and illiteracy still hold sway.  But I've been deeply impressed by the large numbers of Muslims in the Twin Cities community who are hard at work either in college or holding down solid jobs and gradually assimilating into my coffee shop.  I've gotten to know a number of Algerians, Somalis, Eritreans and Oromo who hold their nose in disgust and frustration at the antics of Islamic fundamentalists.  It's no different than the way I hold mine at some of the Christian fundamentalists. 

Writing this, I remember a line from a prayer of that glorious preacher, Carlyle Marney.  "Oh Lord, may their be no fundamentalist of any sort in Your heaven."  When I first read that line I hooted with laughter.  But the past twenty years have meant that we can't laugh any longer at fundamentalism.  It's gone medieval on us.