The company I work for seems to expand and contract with the tides, mostly because the place is crawling with contractors and partners. So it's always (listen to me -- I've been there since February!) seemed like a lot of people work there, even though far fewer are actually under the employ of the company, itself. But I really do think I work for a startup, and here are some reasons why:
10. One of the first times I talked to the woman who's now my boss, she had to stop our phone conversation because there was a huge delivery of chairs. The company had just moved into their current space and there wasn't a lot of office furniture. There was no receptionist. So my boss had to let the delivery guys in. Then she came back to talk to me.
9. The company didn't even have a web site until after I accepted my offer. At first, I could just mumble that we were in the "online retail space". Then after the web site went up, I could talk about it a little more and say who our customer is. (Yes, that's a single customer. For now.)
8. I'm employee #18, at least according to my pay check.
7. We get weekly deliveries from Peapod, including yogurt, oatmeal, cheese sticks, and soda.
6. The head of HR goes to Trader Joes regularly to buy hundreds of dollars worth of nuts at a time. She has the cashier convinced that she feeds the nuts to squirrels.
5. We have birthday cakes from a very nice local bakery every seven to fourteen days.
4. In order to get business cards, we have to come up with a real title and a silly title. My silly title is "elite wildcat rancher," which is an anagram of "lead technical writer," my actual title. There are two lead technical writers, by the way, out of a total of three writers.
3. Around 2 every afternoon, the nerf weapons come out and the open cube area becomes a dangerous battleground. Some of those programmers have extremely good aim.
2. They keep giving us new benefits. I think they got health care after I accepted the job. And in July, we'll get a 401K plan.
1. And the number one reason I think I work for a startup is this. The company was launched a year ago and worked in stealth mode for months. Today, at our almost-weekly company meeting, after a long introduction from the two founders, we were introduced to a woman who is studying at New England Conservatory to be an opera singer. The founders had written a ten-act opera (ok, short acts, but still) about the history of the company and the characters who work there now. In front of God, employees, and customers, the student sang the opera to the tune of an aria from Aida. The customers' jaws dropped. My jaw dropped too. At the end, there was a standing ovation, immediately followed by "OK, now get back to work."
And that's how I know I work at a startup.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
(temporary) twilight of the vokes
On Thursday night, Robert and I went to the Vokes Theatre, where I've had a subscription for over 20 years, to see Twilight of the Golds. All I can imagine is that last year's playreading committee was having a "what were they thinking" moment. I absolutely hated the play. I don't think other audience members were much more enchanted than I was.
TotG is a "play within a play." To the distress and discomfort of the other actors on stage, who were just reflecting the same emotions felt by most of the audience, one of the characters spends the entire play explaining the plot of Wagner's Ring Cycle (of which the last part is called "Twilight of the Gods" -- get it? get it? The TotG operated at about this level of subtlety throughout).
The playright decided to retell the Ring story *in modern times* (how novel). He seems to have thought he was as deep and articulate as Kushner, but missed by a country mile. He chose the following theme to illustrate the story: If you could do genetic testing when you were pregnant and you found out that your child would be gay, wouldn't you want to abort it? I mean, what would you do? (Gosh, love my child unconditionally? Now there's a novel thought!). And he chose to set the whole story in Manhattan in the early 90s. This would have been more believable set in, say, Kansas in the 50s, with characters who had never met a gay person. The protagonists were all Jewish (with bits of the holocaust thrown in for good measure -- remember I said this was subtle?) and one of the family members is gay.
To make things worse, the director's note said that we could all probably relate to this moral dilemma. To make things better, when the pregnant sister delayed her abortion interminably and finally had it in her fifth month, something went wrong and they had to do a full hysterectomy on the spot (huh?), meaning that she could never have children. The good part was that clearly, she and her husband didn't deserve to have children in the first place. And of course, this twist of plot meant that the line of "Golds" would die out entirely, given, well, that her only sibling is gay.
Oh, and then the subtlest twist of all -- the inventor of the test that started the whole dilemma was... you guessed it ... gay!!!
There were moving moments and funny moments. The set was beautiful and fitting. The actors were quite good, though they neither read as Jewish, nor did the brother read as gay.
The sweetest moment came a few days later when I mentioned to a coworker that I'd seen a tortuous play recently with a contrived moral dilemma. He interrupted me to say that he'd seen a truly awful play several years ago that felt interminable to him. It was called "Twilight of the Golds".
TotG is a "play within a play." To the distress and discomfort of the other actors on stage, who were just reflecting the same emotions felt by most of the audience, one of the characters spends the entire play explaining the plot of Wagner's Ring Cycle (of which the last part is called "Twilight of the Gods" -- get it? get it? The TotG operated at about this level of subtlety throughout).
The playright decided to retell the Ring story *in modern times* (how novel). He seems to have thought he was as deep and articulate as Kushner, but missed by a country mile. He chose the following theme to illustrate the story: If you could do genetic testing when you were pregnant and you found out that your child would be gay, wouldn't you want to abort it? I mean, what would you do? (Gosh, love my child unconditionally? Now there's a novel thought!). And he chose to set the whole story in Manhattan in the early 90s. This would have been more believable set in, say, Kansas in the 50s, with characters who had never met a gay person. The protagonists were all Jewish (with bits of the holocaust thrown in for good measure -- remember I said this was subtle?) and one of the family members is gay.
To make things worse, the director's note said that we could all probably relate to this moral dilemma. To make things better, when the pregnant sister delayed her abortion interminably and finally had it in her fifth month, something went wrong and they had to do a full hysterectomy on the spot (huh?), meaning that she could never have children. The good part was that clearly, she and her husband didn't deserve to have children in the first place. And of course, this twist of plot meant that the line of "Golds" would die out entirely, given, well, that her only sibling is gay.
Oh, and then the subtlest twist of all -- the inventor of the test that started the whole dilemma was... you guessed it ... gay!!!
There were moving moments and funny moments. The set was beautiful and fitting. The actors were quite good, though they neither read as Jewish, nor did the brother read as gay.
The sweetest moment came a few days later when I mentioned to a coworker that I'd seen a tortuous play recently with a contrived moral dilemma. He interrupted me to say that he'd seen a truly awful play several years ago that felt interminable to him. It was called "Twilight of the Golds".
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
menamenuppets
With thanks to increased_chatter of otterpop58
(tech note: wow, first youtube on my blog. I never would have tried it except that I read another blog that said it was really easy. let me know if you want the instructions.)
Monday, May 14, 2007
randomness
- A friend who has a nose which is neither small, large, nor crooked tagged me for a meme.
- I am to write eight random things about myself.
- Because I am a somewhat random and capricious person, the number of things I write may be larger than or smaller than eight, most likely larger.
- My parents split up when I was three.
- Starting sometime before the breakup and extending for a while after, I had repeated nightmares that revealed my fear that they were both leaving me instead of each other.
- I grew up thinking that I was retarded.
- I went to a competitive private high school and thought I was filling the small retarded quota that they must have had.
- I figured out that I was fairly intelligent only after I dropped out of college and started my adult life.
- I started on the path to vegetarianism when I was 7 or 8 and discovered how hamburgers were made.
- I last ate chicken just before the dissection lady came to school and took apart a chicken for us.
- The period following our science class was lunch, where they of course served chicken.
- I became totally vegetarian in 1970.
- I now eat fish but don't eat higher on the food chain.
- I spent my senior year in high school living away from my family in a large house of adults.
- My mother supported me financially while I lived away.
- I calmed down enormously in that year and was a little shocked to watch my classmates act out when they first arrived at college.
- I've been married twice, both times to a man named Robert.
- I also had a boyfriend named Robert in high school.
- My father's middle name is Robert and some people call him Bob.
- My current, and let's hope last, husband sometimes teases me about having so many Roberts in my life and thinks I'm sensitive about it.
- I'm not, really.
- My mother's family loved dogs and despised cats.
- I grew up with an affinity for cats, which my family barely tolerated.
- I like some dogs, but I love most cats.
- I never wanted to have children.
- I realized my mother finally understood that when I told her about meeting a nice child and she asked "so, are you going to run out and get a kitten?"
- For a long while, I was in so much physical pain that I didn't even realize that I was hurting.
- It took years and a very long journey to work my way into a kinder, gentler life, for me and everyone around me.
- I'm not perfect yet.
- I've experienced symptoms of arthritis since I was in my early 20s and had to give up running which I was really starting to enjoy.
- Most days, I experience pain of some sort, but at least I know it's there.
- The arthritis is for the most part manageable, though a friend pointed out this weekend that "it's only going to get worse."
- I'm sure he meant it in the kindest possible way.
- And besides, he's right.
- I used to speak French fluently and wasn't bad at Spanish.
- I'm very rusty at both now but can sometimes carry on a conversation in one or the other language.
- I have a small collection of art, all in 2-D.
- I once sewed costumes for the Boston Ballet.
- I was hired for that job over the phone.
- For a while, I volunteered for a suicide prevention hotline.
- To my surprise, I never once had to deal with what we delicately called a "medical emergency."
- I did, however, have to deal with a lot of perverts who thought they'd discovered the world's greatest free sex line.
- I never dreamed about or planned a career, but one seems to have happened when I wasn't paying attention.
- A few years ago, I had the opportunity to change careers and went right back to what I'd been doing.
- I'm turning 50 soon.
- I'm actually excited and pleased about it.
- And I'm also missing my friends who won't have the opportunity to turn 50, not ever.
- I like dark chocolate.
- A lot.
- I'm not going to tag anyone, but I look forward to reading anyone else's random thoughts.
shaken and stirred
I was stirred but not shaken when a young friend was arrested for DUI after going out for a night on the town and getting tangled up with a tree on Storrow Drive. He totalled his car, spent a night in jail, and said he was lucky to have made the decision earlier that evening not to drink as much as usual. Also, no one was injured, at least not severely. This was unlucky night, times-up night, not amateur night.
He was also fortunate that he was not arrested in the small towns he usually drives through. In Boston, the police have much more exciting activities on their hands. They probably just wanted to get him processed through the system so they could get on with the rest of their night's work. He's already been to court and has lost his license for a mere 45 days, but doesn't seem to be skipping too many beats. I hope that this experience will be a deterrant for future adventures in the same area, but we'll have to see.
The shaking up happened later. First came news that a security guard, whom I did not know, leapt to his death off the third-floor balcony of the building I worked in for many years. (Note to KAH: yes, that building.) He landed on the rough stone lobby floor. Friends who still work in that building are just horrified and are avoiding the balconies at all costs. That dumb old company was at least smart enough to bring in counsellors and allow a memorial service to be held.
The shaking up continued. On two recent warm Fridays, two weeks apart, a friend and I sat outdoors at the local coffee house and visited with each other. On both occasions, a woman named Linda stopped by and talked with us. She was sweet and full of energy and talked of her caring for the town and the environment. She was curious and laughed easily and had terrible teeth. In passing, and very lightly, she mentioned that the alcoholic rehab center at our local hospital was very nice. I must have raised my eyebrows slightly because she said that she'd stayed there but only for a short while.
Then last Friday, I saw my friend again. She reported that Linda had not shown up at work for a few days in a row and her coworkers had sent the police to check on her. Linda had died of an overdose earlier in the week, just a few days after we last saw her. Her sister had already come to collect her things and had gone home again.
I'd like to think that the overdose was unintentional -- the person I last saw was so full of life. It saddens me to think of people who struggle so hard with their addictions -- who move toward the light but can never quite get there or who run out of time. It's not a pity, it's a heart break.
There are happier events in my life. On a more cheerful note, I will try to write about dance camp soon, but I felt I had to mention these events first.
He was also fortunate that he was not arrested in the small towns he usually drives through. In Boston, the police have much more exciting activities on their hands. They probably just wanted to get him processed through the system so they could get on with the rest of their night's work. He's already been to court and has lost his license for a mere 45 days, but doesn't seem to be skipping too many beats. I hope that this experience will be a deterrant for future adventures in the same area, but we'll have to see.
The shaking up happened later. First came news that a security guard, whom I did not know, leapt to his death off the third-floor balcony of the building I worked in for many years. (Note to KAH: yes, that building.) He landed on the rough stone lobby floor. Friends who still work in that building are just horrified and are avoiding the balconies at all costs. That dumb old company was at least smart enough to bring in counsellors and allow a memorial service to be held.
The shaking up continued. On two recent warm Fridays, two weeks apart, a friend and I sat outdoors at the local coffee house and visited with each other. On both occasions, a woman named Linda stopped by and talked with us. She was sweet and full of energy and talked of her caring for the town and the environment. She was curious and laughed easily and had terrible teeth. In passing, and very lightly, she mentioned that the alcoholic rehab center at our local hospital was very nice. I must have raised my eyebrows slightly because she said that she'd stayed there but only for a short while.
Then last Friday, I saw my friend again. She reported that Linda had not shown up at work for a few days in a row and her coworkers had sent the police to check on her. Linda had died of an overdose earlier in the week, just a few days after we last saw her. Her sister had already come to collect her things and had gone home again.
I'd like to think that the overdose was unintentional -- the person I last saw was so full of life. It saddens me to think of people who struggle so hard with their addictions -- who move toward the light but can never quite get there or who run out of time. It's not a pity, it's a heart break.
There are happier events in my life. On a more cheerful note, I will try to write about dance camp soon, but I felt I had to mention these events first.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
And she didn't run away
It's been hard to write about Koa's progress. In the beginning, it would have sounded something like this:
In the middle of the night, Koa crept into the room. I opened one eye and she DIDN'T RUN AWAY.
or
Koa got on the bed. I petted her and she DIDN'T RUN AWAY. Then I lifted myself up on one elbow and she DIDN'T RUN AWAY.
Yawn. It's very touching in the moment, but does not make for the most thrilling retelling.
However, there has been some dramatic progress lately, and it's all because of a little wire brush. For some reason, I've been keeping this particular brush on my desk. At some point, Koa discovered it and started rubbing her face on it. Then she let me hold it so she could get a better angle (just getting my hands close to her face so I could pick up the brush was a minor victory). Then she wanted me to brush her with it.
After a few days of interaction with the brush, I've noticed that Koa is getting on the desk more, and is becoming friendlier. She even comes up from behind and rubs her head on my shoulder (which is extremely endearing). She has started flopping over on the desk and rubbing on all its surfaces, a behavior that she previously reserved for the bed. AND SHE DOESN'T RUN AWAY! (sorry).
I've even noticed that this new level of comfort extends to the downstairs, where she's just slightly more at ease now.
We'll be away this weekend, and our dear friend cdp will be here. I'm curious to hear what differences he observes from the last time he stayed here and whether Koa will regress or progress in our absence. The good news overall is that she continues to grow and change and her sweet, happy nature is revealing itself more and more, every day.
In the middle of the night, Koa crept into the room. I opened one eye and she DIDN'T RUN AWAY.
or
Koa got on the bed. I petted her and she DIDN'T RUN AWAY. Then I lifted myself up on one elbow and she DIDN'T RUN AWAY.
Yawn. It's very touching in the moment, but does not make for the most thrilling retelling.
However, there has been some dramatic progress lately, and it's all because of a little wire brush. For some reason, I've been keeping this particular brush on my desk. At some point, Koa discovered it and started rubbing her face on it. Then she let me hold it so she could get a better angle (just getting my hands close to her face so I could pick up the brush was a minor victory). Then she wanted me to brush her with it.
After a few days of interaction with the brush, I've noticed that Koa is getting on the desk more, and is becoming friendlier. She even comes up from behind and rubs her head on my shoulder (which is extremely endearing). She has started flopping over on the desk and rubbing on all its surfaces, a behavior that she previously reserved for the bed. AND SHE DOESN'T RUN AWAY! (sorry).
I've even noticed that this new level of comfort extends to the downstairs, where she's just slightly more at ease now.
We'll be away this weekend, and our dear friend cdp will be here. I'm curious to hear what differences he observes from the last time he stayed here and whether Koa will regress or progress in our absence. The good news overall is that she continues to grow and change and her sweet, happy nature is revealing itself more and more, every day.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
the meeting of the tech writers
I had a relatively busy day today, one that kept me out of the house for most of the day. One of my appointments was for afternoon coffee with the founder of the local technical writers group, the situation I wrote about last week.
We met for about 35 minutes. I thought she handled things well. She apologized for dumping the leadership in my lap and for trying to control things via email. She owned up to having other things going on -- that she has baggage. She said that she felt like I was being competitive. (I felt like I was trying to be collaborative and just get things done, but I didn't say that.) She expressed an interest in taking back the group. She asked me to add her back to the mailing list, give her moderator powers, and remove privileges from my account so that she could have "total ownership."
For my part, I said that I realized early on that very little of her reaction was personally aimed at me (which seemed to be a relief to her). I talked a little about my experience with new-group dynamics. I said a few words about motive theory and how I could see that my actions could be taken as competitive, but that's not really in my makeup. (Thanks to cdp for giving me that vocabulary.)
I told her that at the meeting on Saturday, people did ask about her and that I tried to shut down the conversation as quickly as possible. She said she appreciated that. She thanked me for taking a more seasoned approach and not dragging her through the mud. I just smiled and said that to do so would have meant having to drag myself through the mud too -- that getting wrapped up in these situations is hard on both people, not just on one person.
And then we talked about some of her job prospects and some areas that she's possibly thinking of specializing in. We actually ran out of things to say, I think more because it still feels awkward. So we parted ways.
The rest of the day had a few more social components which were far more pacific, but after this particular meeting, I went shopping for dinner and then relaxed at home by doing research on a possible new camera. Not sure if I'll end up getting it, but it sure is fun to think about.
Onward.
We met for about 35 minutes. I thought she handled things well. She apologized for dumping the leadership in my lap and for trying to control things via email. She owned up to having other things going on -- that she has baggage. She said that she felt like I was being competitive. (I felt like I was trying to be collaborative and just get things done, but I didn't say that.) She expressed an interest in taking back the group. She asked me to add her back to the mailing list, give her moderator powers, and remove privileges from my account so that she could have "total ownership."
For my part, I said that I realized early on that very little of her reaction was personally aimed at me (which seemed to be a relief to her). I talked a little about my experience with new-group dynamics. I said a few words about motive theory and how I could see that my actions could be taken as competitive, but that's not really in my makeup. (Thanks to cdp for giving me that vocabulary.)
I told her that at the meeting on Saturday, people did ask about her and that I tried to shut down the conversation as quickly as possible. She said she appreciated that. She thanked me for taking a more seasoned approach and not dragging her through the mud. I just smiled and said that to do so would have meant having to drag myself through the mud too -- that getting wrapped up in these situations is hard on both people, not just on one person.
And then we talked about some of her job prospects and some areas that she's possibly thinking of specializing in. We actually ran out of things to say, I think more because it still feels awkward. So we parted ways.
The rest of the day had a few more social components which were far more pacific, but after this particular meeting, I went shopping for dinner and then relaxed at home by doing research on a possible new camera. Not sure if I'll end up getting it, but it sure is fun to think about.
Onward.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
meetings bloody meetings
Yesterday, we held the first of our local technical writer get-togethers without our founder. Fortunately, not much happened. Five of us showed up. We chatted as usual -- about jobs (getting and keeping), health insurance, keeping our skills updated, topics of interest to people who live nearby, and so on.
About 45 minutes into the 1-hour meeting, I asked if people want to keep meeting (yes). I asked if we want to make things a little more structured or keep them as is (resounding chorus for "as is"). They asked me about the founder -- is everything ok? Did someone offend her? (me). It hardly seemed worthwhile or productive to drag everyone else into it. I tried to leave the door open for her coming back when she's ready. I also tried to shut down that part of the conversation as fast as possible without being obvious about it.
And then we got up and left. I sent out email summarizing what we'd said and then sent a personal note to the founder, reiterating that she's welcome back whenever she's ready.
Given that the meetings will just be monthly networking events for now and won't really have a structure, I'm fine with sending out email reminders and showing up. That doesn't seem too hard, and when it does, I'll ask for help.
About 45 minutes into the 1-hour meeting, I asked if people want to keep meeting (yes). I asked if we want to make things a little more structured or keep them as is (resounding chorus for "as is"). They asked me about the founder -- is everything ok? Did someone offend her? (me). It hardly seemed worthwhile or productive to drag everyone else into it. I tried to leave the door open for her coming back when she's ready. I also tried to shut down that part of the conversation as fast as possible without being obvious about it.
And then we got up and left. I sent out email summarizing what we'd said and then sent a personal note to the founder, reiterating that she's welcome back whenever she's ready.
Given that the meetings will just be monthly networking events for now and won't really have a structure, I'm fine with sending out email reminders and showing up. That doesn't seem too hard, and when it does, I'll ask for help.
Friday, May 04, 2007
artful weekend, part one
Last night, Robert and I went to a dance performance. That's not atypical -- we try to catch a handful of modern dance events over the course of the year. Someone asked before we went what we were seeing, and I couldn't remember. I just knew we had tickets and I knew where and when to show up.
We went to see Denizen by Kinodance. When we got there, I figured out why I couldn't remember what it was all about. (And no, my alias is not Alberto Gonzalez.) I'm not even sure why we signed up, and neither is Robert. Still, it was fairly intriguing. This morning, I wrote to a friend --
And then this morning, I read the thoughts of another blogger on the same piece. The other blogger felt that it was one of the most boring things he'd ever seen, and that it was repetitive. We wrote a couple of comments back and forth, I saying that the Q&A was helpful and he saying that a piece of art should stand on its own and not need any explication, that the creators essentially failed in not being able to convey their intent (or possibly *an* intent) to their audience through the piece alone. Good stuff.
Tonight, we're seeing Chita Rivera. It might be horrible (the Boston run was cut from three weeks to one) but it could be fun. Tomorrow, we're dancing, and Sunday, we're seeing the final concert in our BSO Chamber Players series. I'm sure there will be time for sleep somewhere in there.
We went to see Denizen by Kinodance. When we got there, I figured out why I couldn't remember what it was all about. (And no, my alias is not Alberto Gonzalez.) I'm not even sure why we signed up, and neither is Robert. Still, it was fairly intriguing. This morning, I wrote to a friend --
Part of it involved a film that a cinematographer made in homage to another film made about Armenia. Part of it involved dancers in the film who also appeared live on stage with other dancers, sometimes interacting with the film. There was also a soundscape, partly filled with Aremenian sounds, some interesting lighting, and a spare but beautiful set, and costumes. Afterwards, all the creative collaborators had a Q&A session. The dancing was intriguing, the Q&A a lot of fun. So no wonder I couldn't remember what it was going to be! It's just that I'm not sure I've completely figured it out yet, not that I'm unhappy to have seen it!
And then this morning, I read the thoughts of another blogger on the same piece. The other blogger felt that it was one of the most boring things he'd ever seen, and that it was repetitive. We wrote a couple of comments back and forth, I saying that the Q&A was helpful and he saying that a piece of art should stand on its own and not need any explication, that the creators essentially failed in not being able to convey their intent (or possibly *an* intent) to their audience through the piece alone. Good stuff.
Tonight, we're seeing Chita Rivera. It might be horrible (the Boston run was cut from three weeks to one) but it could be fun. Tomorrow, we're dancing, and Sunday, we're seeing the final concert in our BSO Chamber Players series. I'm sure there will be time for sleep somewhere in there.
according to script, almost
Ever have one of those situations where there are explosions all around you and you somehow get caught in the cross-fire? One of the hallmarks of getting better is learning not to take things personally when this happens.
But perhaps it's all because I've been present at the launching of any number of groups and there's almost always a pattern. Initially someone's full of energy and starts a group. As members join (which has to happen in order for there to be a group larger than one), the group changes and morphs, perhaps away from the founder's original vision. Some tiny straw makes the founder explode and depart with a great deal of drama. The group continues, or doesn't, changing with the tides as members come and go. Rinse, repeat.
I've been on just about all sides of this particular script, and it's just happened again, much to my great puzzlement. But I suppose it's all to be expected.
1. The group forms. Founder is full of enthusiasm.
A small group of technical writers recently started meeting in my town. We get together monthly to talk about -- well who knows what. It's partly social and partly professional networking for about an hour, once a month. The founder says she wanted a way to meet people in town and so she started this group.
2. The group starts to morph.
I had some ideas and figured our founder didn't want to do it all by herself (now I think she did). I proposed some ideas, thought I got a nod (which was perhaps more of a "what an interesting idea, now drop it" response), and went ahead and implemented them. The ideas involved making it easier to communicate with "members" by forming a mailing list, and then advertising the mailing list to more than the handful of people who knew about it.
A lot of people signed up for our mailing list, some from quite a distance away. I figure "the more the merrier" and if people want to show up, well, either they'll keep coming, or use us as an example to form their own group, or just remain connected to the very informal group as lurkers. I think those are the only options.
3. The straw is introduced.
I overstepped our founder's bounds and she let me know but in a "I wasn't expecting this, but it's FINE" way. I figured we'd get over it, the group would be stronger -- it would include more than two people -- and we'd move on. But no. This week, no message went out about our upcoming meeting on Saturday, so I really put myself out there and sent out a reminder (after waiting for a few days for a response to my query to the founder). That was the needed straw in the predetermined script.
4. Drama happens.
And yes, what happened was very predictable. I got lots of angry emails. I was appointed, without my consent, as the new leader of the group. A lot of messages went out to the group (and were delivered out of order, requiring more messages). I sent what I hoped were calm, mature responses to the founder only, suggesting that we talk about things and work them through. I got progressively angrier answers. I kinda stopped reading them (bad me). I just figured that our cofounder is battling a lot of demons and working through some of them with this particular situation as a convenient context.
5. The group continues.
So now that I've been appointed, I figure, why not go for it. Why share all the drama -- it's kinda boring anyways. We're meeting tomorrow. I assume a handful of people will show up as usual. I've sent a message to the group saying that we should do a level-set -- talk about whether we want to keep meeting, and if so, what we want the group to become. I figure that I don't want to run the group by myself (though I'm not sure why -- there's not much to it). But if someone wants to co-run it, we can see how that goes for a while.
6. We depart from the script.
And last night, I came home to a long phone message from our founder that was full of apologies. This was the part that did not go with the script. The founder said that she'd talked it through with a friend, she was very sorry to have dumped the leadership in my lap without my permission, and yes, she would like to get together and talk things out.
I take it that this represents movement and change for our founder, so I'm impressed with her for reaching out.
And can I say here that it represents some movement and change for me? Years ago, I would have gotten hooked immediately and would have joined into the drama. I would have tried very hard to understand what I'd "done" to provoke this response (because it had to be about me, yes?) and I would have tried to understand all the things that led the other person to their reaction.
I probably would have "risen" to the occasion (or more likely, fallen to it) and responded in an equally emotional and angry way. But this time around, I mostly knew that the reaction had very little to do with me. Emotionally, I was annoyed, but I was more interested in making peace and moving on. I also didn't want to drag our mailing list into the whole thing if at all possible. I won't say that I was entirely calm internally, but I hope I conveyed some level of peace throughout the proceedings.
And perhaps that all provided an opening for our founder. I may not know, and it's not important unless she wants to tell me about it. So onward.
And I wouldn't be surprised if the group remains exactly the same after all this -- a monthly brief get-together to talk about professional and local topics of interest. We'll see.
But perhaps it's all because I've been present at the launching of any number of groups and there's almost always a pattern. Initially someone's full of energy and starts a group. As members join (which has to happen in order for there to be a group larger than one), the group changes and morphs, perhaps away from the founder's original vision. Some tiny straw makes the founder explode and depart with a great deal of drama. The group continues, or doesn't, changing with the tides as members come and go. Rinse, repeat.
I've been on just about all sides of this particular script, and it's just happened again, much to my great puzzlement. But I suppose it's all to be expected.
1. The group forms. Founder is full of enthusiasm.
A small group of technical writers recently started meeting in my town. We get together monthly to talk about -- well who knows what. It's partly social and partly professional networking for about an hour, once a month. The founder says she wanted a way to meet people in town and so she started this group.
2. The group starts to morph.
I had some ideas and figured our founder didn't want to do it all by herself (now I think she did). I proposed some ideas, thought I got a nod (which was perhaps more of a "what an interesting idea, now drop it" response), and went ahead and implemented them. The ideas involved making it easier to communicate with "members" by forming a mailing list, and then advertising the mailing list to more than the handful of people who knew about it.
A lot of people signed up for our mailing list, some from quite a distance away. I figure "the more the merrier" and if people want to show up, well, either they'll keep coming, or use us as an example to form their own group, or just remain connected to the very informal group as lurkers. I think those are the only options.
3. The straw is introduced.
I overstepped our founder's bounds and she let me know but in a "I wasn't expecting this, but it's FINE" way. I figured we'd get over it, the group would be stronger -- it would include more than two people -- and we'd move on. But no. This week, no message went out about our upcoming meeting on Saturday, so I really put myself out there and sent out a reminder (after waiting for a few days for a response to my query to the founder). That was the needed straw in the predetermined script.
4. Drama happens.
And yes, what happened was very predictable. I got lots of angry emails. I was appointed, without my consent, as the new leader of the group. A lot of messages went out to the group (and were delivered out of order, requiring more messages). I sent what I hoped were calm, mature responses to the founder only, suggesting that we talk about things and work them through. I got progressively angrier answers. I kinda stopped reading them (bad me). I just figured that our cofounder is battling a lot of demons and working through some of them with this particular situation as a convenient context.
5. The group continues.
So now that I've been appointed, I figure, why not go for it. Why share all the drama -- it's kinda boring anyways. We're meeting tomorrow. I assume a handful of people will show up as usual. I've sent a message to the group saying that we should do a level-set -- talk about whether we want to keep meeting, and if so, what we want the group to become. I figure that I don't want to run the group by myself (though I'm not sure why -- there's not much to it). But if someone wants to co-run it, we can see how that goes for a while.
6. We depart from the script.
And last night, I came home to a long phone message from our founder that was full of apologies. This was the part that did not go with the script. The founder said that she'd talked it through with a friend, she was very sorry to have dumped the leadership in my lap without my permission, and yes, she would like to get together and talk things out.
I take it that this represents movement and change for our founder, so I'm impressed with her for reaching out.
And can I say here that it represents some movement and change for me? Years ago, I would have gotten hooked immediately and would have joined into the drama. I would have tried very hard to understand what I'd "done" to provoke this response (because it had to be about me, yes?) and I would have tried to understand all the things that led the other person to their reaction.
I probably would have "risen" to the occasion (or more likely, fallen to it) and responded in an equally emotional and angry way. But this time around, I mostly knew that the reaction had very little to do with me. Emotionally, I was annoyed, but I was more interested in making peace and moving on. I also didn't want to drag our mailing list into the whole thing if at all possible. I won't say that I was entirely calm internally, but I hope I conveyed some level of peace throughout the proceedings.
And perhaps that all provided an opening for our founder. I may not know, and it's not important unless she wants to tell me about it. So onward.
And I wouldn't be surprised if the group remains exactly the same after all this -- a monthly brief get-together to talk about professional and local topics of interest. We'll see.
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