OD180 Nonprofit Management Letter #43

December 2009
Perseverance

Dear Friends,

Last year, I introduced what I call the five foundation-stones of building organizations. The five core concepts are: 1) courage of commitment; 2) creativity in approach; 3) generosity of spirit; 4) honesty in communication; and 5) steadfastness of purpose. In succession, I described one way that each of these values is lived out: acting boldly in the face of opposition, stirring creativity, expressing gratitude routinely, telling the whole truth and, last but not least, managing for results, not exactitude in process. This month I begin a second round of reflections on the foundation-stones, beginning with that aspect of courage that is most aptly described as perseverance.  

If you would like a copy of the first set of articles, write to me at davidnorgard@OD180.com and I will be glad to send them to you. As always, I welcome your reflections and comments.

Peace, David

The Five Foundation-Stones of Organization-Building

Courage of Commitment... Creativity in Approach... Generosity of Spirit...
Honesty in Communication... Steadfastness of Purpose

OD180's Five Specialties

Board Training & Development... Organizational Assessment
Strategic Planning... Development Assessment & Planning
Constituent Relations Programs

Perseverance

The Common Predicament - Revisited

As I mentioned in my first article on courage of commitment ("Boldness in the Face of Opposition"), most leaders of faith-based and community and membership organizations do the work they do because they genuinely want to make a positive difference. They want to have an impact - on individuals, on their communities, on the environment. Sometimes the vision is even grander. We want to change our society, our world - or some aspect of it anyway. And this is all very good because we know that change does not happen without people who are willing to step up and be change agents.

Yet sooner or later, the road toward progress is no longer invigorating us with exciting challenges and illuminating vistas and meetings with inspirational figures. On the contrary, the problems seem intractable. The views have long since become tedious. The individuals with whom we contend generate more stress than comfort. What we dared to call our mission, our calling, has become our burden, depleting us more than invigorating us.

The Road Too Long, the Summit Too High

We call it burnout and the metaphor is apt. It is as if, in serving as a light to our chosen corner of the world, we have not stopped to put more oil in our lamp and our flame has nearly gone out.

There are two kinds of burnout. One may be compared to a road too long; the other, a road where the summit appears too high.

In the first instance, we do not blame ourselves. We recognize that our efforts are sound, our motivations sincere. Yet the pace of progress seems agonizingly slow, the force of our impact distressingly minute. We have worked so very long and so very hard and yet the end is not in sight. And eventually, it is only sane to wonder:  Is it worth it?  Or, is it futile?  This is the burnout of perceived hopelessness - hopelessness despite our best efforts.

In the second instance, we do blame ourselves. We come to the sinking realization that we were not the right person at the right time after all. We are not up to the challenge. We know how to empower volunteers, perhaps, but what is actually needed is a magic piper to elicit major gifts. We have skills and good intentions. But in the given context, we really don't have what it takes. This is the burnout of perceived inadequacy, when our best is not good enough.

Avoiding Burnout

So how do we avoid these self-defeating interpretations of our situation? How do we avoid either turning back or just wandering away? The answer depends on whether the perceived challenge is a road too long or a summit too high.

In the first case, it is fundamentally a matter of perception of context. If we are engaged in one of the great historical struggles and wearied by the likely prospect that we will never see a battle won, let alone the final victory, then the hopelessness on the surface may be covering a deeper problem. Perhaps the real issue (yes, ironically) is hubris. In the great works - against war, against global warming, for peace, for a humanity in harmony with the rest of creation - even a moment's reasoned reflection will remind us that our entire life-work is, after all, but a short leg in a long relay. When we are at our best, we are all team players, and to the team with the most courageous and persevering players goes the victory. In any profound struggle, there are but a few Mandelas and Salks and Churchills who are cheered as they cross the finish line. Most of us are here to ensure that the baton is passed to the next runner. Our hope and our satisfaction rightly come from ensuring - simply yet crucially - that the forward movement continues.

In the second case, there are two possibilities. Maybe we have been deceiving ourselves. Maybe we are in the wrong position or the right position for too long. If that is so, then the courageous thing to do is to step aside and let someone else step up.

But it could also be that we have simply not been good stewards of our strength. We have let ourselves get too tired and with the exhaustion has come self-doubt.

Then, what to do? We take rest. We stop and reflect, even if the voice of duty keeps chirping, "There is still work to be done." We rest anyway. We close the inbox. We step away from the conference room. We turn off the mobile phone....And we look back. We look on what has been done thus far, what has transpired to date because we have stayed true to our mission. In the words of Dag Hammarskjold, we say to ourselves, or perhaps a confidant, "For everything that has been, thanks." ...and most critically... "For everything that will be, yes."

And at the first stirring of renewed creativity, which is the signal of renewed hope, we proceed to act. We banish the hope and we act, with confidence.

A Final, Personal Reflection

When the conflicts are waxing and the money is waning and the glow of accomplishment is growing dimmer rather than brighter, it is tempting sometimes to say, "Enough." But a mission is there to be done, a calling is made to be answered. And so, if the call is indeed heard and the mission remains true, what can we do? We can go on. We may need to rest... but in the service of saying - again - "Yes."