By Todd J. Sukol
Ironically, in this week when my wife, Amy Sukol, led a seminar entitled “From Great to Awesome” at the 2017 Chicago Nonprofit Conference*, I was learning a complementary lesson, also loosely based on Jim Collins’ Good to Great, but in the opposite direction.
You see, this week wasn’t what I would call GREAT.
Rather, the power of good carried me, and really our whole office, this week as staff seemed to be in “just back from vacation” mode. Some of us really were just back from vacation. Others were dealing with children returning to school, the stress of upcoming holidays and looming deadlines.
Fortunately, we were well prepared.
Way back when I decided it was time to pursue my lifelong dream to learn to play the drums, I took lessons from the fabulous Wes Crawford. A great teacher, Wes stressed that although “playing by feel” was most satisfying to me, it was important to concentrate on rudimentary drills and thoroughly learn song structures so that even when I was “feeling off,” I could still play my part well. This sobering lesson can mean the difference between good and lousy.
As with playing music, working for a nonprofit organization is best done with a full, inspired heart. Our sector, not unlike the bandstand, is no place for just going through the motions. Passion, inspiration, commitment – these intangibles matter! They spell the difference between good and great.
But sometimes great is not an option. So many of us in the sector vacillate wildly between highly charged moments of intense productivity and low output slumps. I have certainly experienced this in my career – in my life. If we’re honest, many of us have. The inspired highs are amazing. We wouldn’t be who we are without them. But no human being can stay hyper charged all the time. We need ways of keeping forward momentum even when passions fade temporarily.
We’re in this business because we want to make positive change. Achieving lofty visions and fulfilling organizational missions requires greatness, to be sure, but sometimes greatness requires moments of simple goodness. As my long-time friend Rich once teasingly told me when I go through a bout with perfectionism in grad school, “anything worth doing is worth doing shabbily.”
Because our staff team diligently builds work plans based on office-wide goals that everyone has a hand in developing, a distracted week doesn’t need to turn into an unproductive one. We all know how to play our parts. We keep things progressing, even during those off moments when it feels a little more like just going through the motions than we’d prefer. Great can temporarily slow to good rather than crashing into lousy. The inspiration will return soon, as it always does. And when it kicks back in, we’ll still be heading down the right road and in the right direction.
*Amy Sukol, CFRE, is Executive Vice President at Lautman Maska Neill & Company in Washington, DC. She presented “From Great to Awesome: Using Analytics, Testing, and Donor-centricity” at DMA Nonprofit Federation’s 2017 Chicago Nonprofit Conference.
By Todd J. Sukol
Facing a big birthday a couple of years ago, I resolved to live my personal and professional life with a new level of courage, integrity and productivity. As part of my quest I adopted a three-part philosophy, which I openly confess remains somewhat aspirational:
“Embrace the uncomfortable, move forward in the face of mistakes and allow space.”
Nearly two years into the experiment, I thought I’d take a moment to reflect here on Giving Way about why each of these three principles is important to me and to offer them to you, my fellow nonprofit leader, as tools for accomplishing your organization’s important work.
Embrace the uncomfortable
Most of us give in more than we would like to admit to the very human tendency to avoid conflict, dodge decisions and procrastinate from the distasteful or difficult. I have had the unique privilege of getting to know someone who seems to have been born without this gene. He is amazing! No matter what’s going on, he runs right into the fire… every time. Not coincidentally, he is also one of the most successful and productive people I know. His approach can be unsettling at times, but I’ve tried it on for size and let me tell you that it is immensely freeing. The positive results this practice creates are staggering.
M. Scott Peck opens his The Road Less Traveled, Timeless Edition: A New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values and Spiritual Growth with a simple idea: “Life is difficult.” So much potential gets wasted by leaders who avoid the simple truth that life is difficult. Once we accept it, it no longer limits us. How many times have you avoided an uncomfortable reality and when you finally took care of it said to yourself “that wasn’t so bad, why was I making such a big deal out of it?” What are you avoiding right now?
Move forward in the face of mistakes
A dear friend from high school recently posted a beautiful picture of herself on Facebook, along with the gloriously honest comment: “Ever take a pic and for whatever reason the light in the room washes everything out and you look like you’re not aging? And your hair turned out right for once? Well, those are the only ones I post.” That made me smile from ear to ear! Putting our best face forward is only human. While I wholeheartedly endorse the practice when it comes to Facebook photos, this tendency can be damaging in our work and personal lives.
Here is a crazy experiment: For one week, keep a written list of every excuse for a mistake you hear. I mean really listen for and record every unnecessary rationalization you hear for a simple error. Jot down on your list every example of a co-worker, friend, family member, etc. conjuring an excuse, however plausible, when a simple “Oh shoot, I goofed” would have sufficed. Make sure you also log the rationalizations you hear yourself say, either out loud or in your head. If you listen and record diligently, I promise you’ll have a long list. Guess what? None of it matters.
Whatever image you project as a leader, we all know you make mistakes. It’s okay. No, really! Your flaws don’t invalidate your greatness. As long as you’re doing meaningful work, you’ll be making plenty of mistakes (I just learned this morning of an embarrassing one I made earlier in the week – whoops!). Admit to them, fix them, learn from them. Keep going. It means you’re in the game. It’s good.
A few years back I was running an organization called Do More Mission to help philanthropists and small- to mid-sized nonprofit organizations increase their impact. I am proud of what we accomplished but I now see a fatal flaw in how I named the organization when I started it in 2009.
A close advisor had tried to warn me. Encouragement to “do more,” he explained, is the opposite of what many driven nonprofit leaders need to hear most. So many of them (us!) share the shortcoming of pushing harder and harder even when it may be time to back off and leave room for grace. I suspect he was mostly talking about me. I ignored him and pushed ahead as planned, launching “Do More,” as we used to call it for short. A couple of years later a close friend and colleague told me about a management book by J. Keith Murnighan that he said really helped him. A few days later the mailman delivered Do Nothing!: Discover the Power of Hands-Off Leadership. Strikingly, the color scheme and cover design of the book was very similar to our logo. There I was with a simple choice right up in my face Do More! Or Do Nothing!
Do Nothing, By J. Keith Murnighan
Do More Mission logo
Of all the things you have to do – and learn to do well – one of them is, well, NOTHING (suddenly, I’m thinking of George Costanza). Productive doing of nothing is an important skill that doesn’t always come naturally to passionate social entrepreneurs. I advocate for working hard, to be sure, but working smart is equally important. We accomplish the most when we do our footwork passionately and diligently, and then back off and allow space for the Divine to step in and put all the pieces together.
Whether you serve in a staff or volunteer role, try modelling these three uncommon attributes. You may be surprised how much potential they free up, and how much they can contribute to your organization’s success.
By Todd J. Sukol
In the nearly 10 years since bestselling author and popular speaker Scott Berkun famously implored the world to “stop saying innovation,” we in the Jewish philanthropic and nonprofit world show no sign of heeding his sage advice.
Scott, whose credits include the bestseller The Myths of Innovation, makes a nearly irrefutable case that the word innovation has lost meaning and become noise pollution. Instead, he encourages focusing on developing ideas for solving significant problems rather than finding exciting adjectives to describe those ideas.
So why is it that some of the most passionate, sincere and talented people I know in Jewish nonprofits keep returning to the innovation trope? Are we a bunch of gushy romantics, repeatedly working ourselves into a frenzied lather of naïveté at each “next big idea” that comes our way? Or have we become allergic to hard work, victims of our parents and grandparents successes and good fortunes, in search of one shiny new quick-fix after another? Or could there be something deeper and more substantive at play that causes us to hang on so stubbornly to “innovation” as an ideal.
In the spirit of full disclosure, I am far from immune to the Jewish innovation addiction. I was an active participant in the birth of the Jewish Education Innovation Challenge (JEIC), along with Mrs. Manette Mayberg, trustee of the Mayberg Foundation and our cherished colleague and friend Rabbi Shmuel Feld. I was in the middle of plowing my way through a daunting pile of books on social entrepreneurship at the time* and I stridently insisted that the word innovation MUST be in the name of the organization we were creating. I was an architect of JEIC’s subsequent partnership with Joshua Venture Group, which later merged with UpStart, whose mission is “inspire and advance innovative ideas that contribute to the continued growth and vitality of Jewish life.” If the Jewish world’s addiction to the word innovation is a pathology, I am surely among the diseased.
But is there a healthy way to be obsessed with innovation? Could it be, in fact, that innovation lies at the very core of what it means to be a Jew, a uniquely Jewish way of relating to the world, to each other, to ourselves and to the Divine?
In Judaism’s morning prayers, we praise G_d “who forms light and creates darkness.” This is stated in the present tense, explains Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev, because G_d is perpetually creating the world. Judaism, in other words, sees G_d not as a being who created the world many years ago, but as the active, engaged Spirit who continually creates and renews everything in this world at all times. If we hope to align with this Spirit that guides the world and fulfill our highest potentials as humans and Jews, we too need to constantly refresh our relationship with this ever renewing G_d.
Jewish teachings repeatedly encourage us to “sing a new song” to G_d**. This suggests that while great value is placed on ritual in Judaism, there is also great value placed on bringing a renewed, sincere desire to connect afresh with G_d each time we engage in ritual.
Innovation as a state of heart and mind
I had the pleasure this week of sitting in a noisy Starbucks in New York City for nearly two hours with Stefanie Rhodes, executive director of Slingshot. Listening to Stefanie’s ideas about next generation philanthropy’s potential for the Jewish future, one gets the impression that Slingshot, known to date primarily for its annual Resource Guide to Jewish Innovation, just may have its brightest days ahead.
As Stefanie and I were talking, it occurred to me that innovation in the Jewish corner of the philanthropic and nonprofit sector may be a sign that the Jewish ideal of renewal and rejuvenation is yet alive. Perhaps innovation in the Jewish nonprofit world is more than a utilitarian response to declining communal organizations that seem out of step with contemporary Jews. Could it be that creation of new avenues for Jewish engagement is an imperative for every generation, part of renewing our relationship to ourselves and each other as Jews, and ultimately to the Divine?
To be clear, I’m not excusing continued over-use of an annoyingly hackneyed word, nor am I advocating change for its own sake. The philanthropic and nonprofit sector has seen billions wasted that way, by decades of initiatives that lack well defined aims and strategies. But when the newness is intentionally directed to create “significant positive change,” as Scott Berkun would have us say, innovation – the concept if not the word — can become a powerful, positive engine, both for responding to contemporary problems and to renewing our very souls.
*Among them Bishop & Green’s Philanthrocapitalism, Bornstein’s profiles of early Ashoka fellows, Christensen’s testament to the power of disruptive technological innovation for reforming education, and Paul Light’s “Driving Social Change: How to Solve the World’s Toughest Social Problems.
**No less than five times in the book of Tehillim, Psalms, alone.
By Todd J. Sukol
I often get asked where I stand on Jewish pluralism. In both my work and personal life, people sometimes perceive what they believe to be a disconnect between my deep commitment to Jewish tradition and my equally rigorous commitment to inclusivity and diversity of practice and belief.
I’d like to see if I can set the record straight.
I’ve seen the words “pluralism” and “pluralistic” used to describe at least three very different approaches to Judaism and Jewish practice. One of those works beautifully for me. The other two do not.
The first pluralism posits that diversity in Judaism is one of our greatest strengths. Minority opinions on legal matters, for example, are documented throughout the ancient discussions of the Talmud. In fact, they are given a place of honor even when rejected. The sharp eyed student of the Rishonim (medieval scholars and philosophers through whom ancient Judaism passed on its way to contemporary hearts and minds) can discern radically divergent theologies in their writings. Even the Shemonah Esrei (or Amidah), the central prayer of Jewish liturgy for 2,000 years, hints in its opening section that communal belief in one G-d coexists with individuals relating to G-d in radically different ways.
I like to call this notion “Big-P Pluralism,” the idea that Judaism is and always was system of diverse ideas, beliefs and practices that interact with each other within a communal, living framework. It gives us a way to engage with authentic Jewish ideas in ways that work for us as individuals, while simultaneously supporting each other and learning from each other’s vastly diverse, and equally rich, personal journeys. It is also, I think, consistent with the value of “inclusivity” that I have come to embrace in my work at the Mayberg Foundation. As an excerpt from the Foundation’s statement of core values affirms, “We believe in building a vibrant and meaningful Judaism for all Jews—regardless of how one identifies or practices—that provides both inspiration and wisdom.” This is a Pluralism I can embrace. At its base is tolerance and coexistence. When nurtured, it can grow into something much more profound: loving, supportive, value-based community. I am, in that sense, an unabashed “Big-P Pluralist.”
Unfortunately, a second pluralism is much more common than the first. This “little-p pluralism” is rooted in convenience and presumed efficacy rather than principle. Out of step with contemporary Jews, many Jewish organizations “slap a J” in front of a myriad of programs in efforts to “Judaify” activities they think will bring people through their doors. This effort to “give the people what they want” in a Jewish context is not necessarily a bad thing, but it smacks of desperation and lack of substance. By all means, let’s do fun and trendy things. But let’s simultaneously find ways to expose people to the vast reservoir of Jewish wisdom and give them tools to extract relevant and useful elements for meaningful contemporary life. Too many organizations look to kitsch in order to combat declining membership and financial viability. Substance would serve them better.
Finally, a third pluralism has emerged, one that I call “Alt-P Pluralism.” All too often “pluralistic” has become a code word for “anti-orthodox.” I have seen Jews denigrate fellow Jews for traditional beliefs and practices they don’t share. “Freedom of religion for all but the Orthodox Jew,” as I heard one person put it. I once watched in disbelief as a member of my own family was accused of being aggressive, simply for quietly living according to her own principles. I have personally been taunted at Jewish events for the food I choose to eat and not eat. When liberalism morphs into an orthodoxy all its own, I call that fundamentalism, not progressivism. Alt-P Pluralism promotes prejudice and division not unity and diversity.
Big-P Pluralism, on the other hand, gives each of us room to engage with Judaism on our own terms while drawing strength from — and giving strength to — our collective Jewish wisdom and community. For my part, I have wrestled for decades to integrate rigorous principles, discipline and religious structure, on the one hand, with openness, spontaneity and sheer joy, on the other. To be sure, I have seen the strictures of religion crowd out substance at times. And I have also seen remarkable talent and powerful spiritual urges squandered because they lacked a structure through which they could be expressed and actualized. I believe I am a better person for having engaged in that journey of balancing and synergizing these apparent polar opposites. That has been my personal journey so far, and people with radically different views from my own have played a major role along the way.
We all have the right, and maybe even the responsibility to pursue our own individual journeys. Big-P Pluralism gives us a way to embark on those journeys for ourselves, but not by ourselves.