by Heather Plett | Mar 3, 2011 | Creativity, Language, Leadership
The language of business and government is largely the language of men. It’s language that’s been shaped by sports and warfare – masculine arenas.
Think about it for a moment – strategic planning, performance reviews, bite the bullet, fast track, jump the gun, keep your eye on the prize, rally the troops, ball park figures – they’ve all been influenced by sports or warfare. Even coaching, though it has developed softer edges, is still a word that comes out of sports, where performance is everything.
Language is not only shaped by the culture in which it is formed, it also helps shape the culture. When you enter a new workplace, you learn to speak in the local lingo. Before you know it, you’re not just talking in those terms, you’re thinking in them too.
Case in point: Not long ago, in my Writing for Public Relations course, we were talking about communications strategies, and I was telling the students how important it is to evaluate after the work is complete. “Even if you don’t have time for a full-fledged evaluation,” I said, “at least do a post mortem with your planning team.”
The students wanted to know what a post mortem was, and I explained that it’s a meeting held after work has been completed to discuss what went well and what needed to be improved next time. I was so used to using the word, I didn’t even think about what I was saying, until a student raised his hand and called me on it.
“Remember how you were saying that language in the world of business is too often based on sports and warfare?” asked the student who’d spent time in the army. “Well, ‘post mortem’ is an excellent example. Interestingly enough, the army no longer uses that term. They now refer to it as ‘after action review’.”
Needless to say, I was sufficiently humbled by my student who’d caught something I didn’t even recognize in my own language. That’s how language is – it becomes so embedded in our psyche, we don’t even recognize how it influences us anymore.
I’m on a personal mission not only to change my own language, but to influence the language of the corporate world. I think it’s time for more feminine language – the language of art and intuition added to the language of sports and warfare.
This morning I delivered a speech to a local business club. I spoke on “How to Lead with your Paint Clothes On.” I talked to them about how to think more like artists, how to incorporate creativity and pauses and white spaces and practice in their business planning. I encouraged them to allow for mistakes, open themselves to possibilities, and trust their intuition. I handed out markers and doodle pages and told them to doodle while I talked. I encouraged them to hold art parties with their staff.
I don’t think the business club (mostly men) knew exactly what to make of my talk. A few of them offered stories of how creativity had shaped what they did, but most of them simply thanked me politely and then left.
It’s a new language for many people – not one that’s particularly comfortable in a business world. Speaking a new language into an old culture can be intimidating and downright scary. But change doesn’t come without a bit of risk. If we want things to shift, sometimes we have to be willing to be the oddball in the room.
Here’s the handout I used this morning. On the back of the page it said “Go ahead and DOODLE!”

by Heather Plett | Mar 2, 2011 | journey, Leadership, Uncategorized

Christina Baldwin teaches the power of circle and story
Last year, my word for the year was journey, and what a journey it was! There was significant learning and challenge and change along the journey, culminating with the end of a career and a big step into self-employment.
When I look back on the year, I recognize three major transformative moments when I was immersed in such amazing learning that it changed my life. Those three learning events are available to you in one way or another and I thought I’d tell you about them in case you’re interested.
1. ALIA Summer Institute: Wow. I hardly know what to say about ALIA. It is a transformative experience like few others. If you are interested in impacting social change and you want to immerse yourself in big ideas, surround yourself with big thinkers, and spend time imagining what big things you can do in your life, this is the place for you. It’s hard to define it exactly – it’s a combination of conference, retreat, and intensive workshop. ALIA is one of a kind in its approach. These are people who know something about holistic learning. At the summer institute, you will spend time in meditation, body movement, art & creativity, and deep learning of all kinds. You’ll meet people who are transforming the world through contemplative juggling, aikido, meditative painting, music, and a whole lot of other fun and interesting things. This year, I’m very excited about the fact that I’m doing some work for the ALIA team and so I’m getting to know them better AND I’ll be attending in June.
2. Teach Now Program – Another WOW. I don’t sign up for a lot of online courses, because I tend to prefer in person learning where I can engage in more meaningful conversations, but Teach Now is a BIG exception. I signed up and I listened to every single call and every podcast – sometimes more than once. I still have all of the interviews on my iPod and often listen to them when I’m running because they are just so full of wisdom. This is AMAZING stuff. If you are doing (or dreaming of doing) any kind of teaching, you really should check it out, because few other things have had as much impact on my teaching practice as this course. Here’s a quote from the note I sent to Jen & Michele after Teach Now: “Because of Teach Now, I have been bold enough to be a different kind of teacher than most of my students have had experience with before. I am daring to encourage them to learn FIRST to write from their hearts and THEN to learn to write technically for future PR jobs.” Click the link above to sign up for the free call – you won’t regret it. (p.s. I liked it so much, I’m planning to sign up for a second round!)
3. The Listening Well – A Circle & Story Workshop – WOW again. (How lucky I’ve been to have three wows in one year!) For years and years I’ve been dreaming of taking a workshop with Christina Baldwin. Ten years ago, I first came across her work when I was in a really difficult place in my leadership journey, and it felt like someone had lit a candle in a dark place for me. Her books on Circle and Story resonate so closely with the deep longings of my heart. Attending the workshop just after quitting my job and jumping into a brand new place in which I dream of doing work similar to what Christina is doing was perfect timing and a dream come true. I can’t recommend her work strongly enough. If you can’t make it to one of her workshops, at least check out one
of
her
books
.
by Heather Plett | Feb 28, 2011 | change
I’ve been thinking a lot about chaos lately.
The brave people who’ve protested in Tunisia, Egypt, and eventually (hopefully) Libya, have impacted significant change for their countries. Those changes won’t come without chaos, however. There will be many days when people will be asking “When will we finally see the fruits of our labour?” or “Was all of that risk really worth this frustration?” There’s a good chance it will take months, maybe even years for things to settle into a new normal and for the real results of the change to arrive.
With change of almost any kind comes a period of chaos. Years ago, I heard David Irvine
make a presentation in which he talked about the change curve. It looked a little like this:

That diagram has stuck with me for about fifteen years, and it’s served as a great source of comfort whenever I’ve made a significant change in my life. Almost every time, I get excited about new possibilities and I expect things to go smoothly and get better right away and then BAM, I’m thrown into chaos. When that happens, I remember the diagram and think “Oh yeah, I’m right on track! It’s the chaos period. I’ve just gotta persevere and get through this.”
It’s been that way in my self-employment journey in the last four months. It’s been a welcome change, and the stress in my life has gone WAY down, and I’m oh so happy, but there’s been lots of chaos as I wonder how the bills will be paid, how I’ll get the word out about the work I want to do, and how I’ll even figure out just WHAT work I need to focus on. Chaos. Just as I should have expected.
The good thing about the change curve, though, is that after you commit yourself to chaos, work through the resistance and transformation, and spend lots of time with the new ideas, things do get better. They get even better than they were before the new idea was introduced. In the end, the chaos is worth the effort.
In what ways have you experienced the change curve and (in particular) the chaos? Are you in it now? Have you worked your way through it?
My prayer for the people of Tunisia, Egypt, and Libya is that they will be patient and hold on to hope during the chaos. That’s my prayer for myself, and for you as well.
Note: Credit to this site for the diagram.
by Heather Plett | Feb 26, 2011 | Uncategorized
“Before you file an official police report, you should know that this part can be very hard on the victim.” Those were the words of the social worker called in to council me after I’d been raped. Two police officers and my friend Terence were also in the room.
“They’ll drag you through the ringer and you’ll have to re-live the experience again and again and again. They’ll question you almost as though YOU were the person who did something wrong. Chances are, they’ll also drag your past sexual history into it, especially if they think there’s any reason to suggest you invited this upon yourself.”
She said it kindly, trying to protect me from further hurt. She wanted me to know what I was facing if they ever caught the perpetrator who’d crawled through the window and taken my innocence from me. “You have a choice,” she said. “If you don’t want to report it, and you feel it would be easier to just walk away and try to get on with your life, you can.”
It didn’t seem like much of a choice to me. Let the man who did this walk free and some day find out another young girl had lived through the two hours of hell I’d lived through? Nope. I had to do everything I could to prevent that. I reported it. He was never arrested (though they thought they might have him a year or so later and I had to try to identify him in a series of photos). I never had to live through a court procedure. He might still be out there raping girls. The thought horrifies me.
The social worker’s words have been going through my head this week as news reports of another young woman who was raped in our province has surfaced. Tragically, though the case went to court, the rapist is walking free. The judge handed down a conditional sentence and no jail time, suggesting that the woman may have invited it on herself by wearing suggestive clothing and “letting her intentions known that she wanted to party”.
I don’t know the details of the case, but according to an interview on the radio this afternoon, they were in a car with a group of other people (after hanging out at the bar) when he started groping her. She told him to stop and he didn’t. Finally she said “I’m getting out of the car to get away from you.” He got out of the car too, took her into the woods and raped her.
I have no way of judging the woman’s behaviour, but this I know… no matter WHAT she was wearing, if she said no, it meant NO. Even if she was strutting down the street naked, he had no right to force sex on her. NO RIGHT!
Once again, our system has victimized the victim. After living through the hell of a court case, getting her actions trotted out for all the world to see, living through the shame of everyone thinking she was dressed inappropriately and “asked for it”, she now has to be told that the man who did this is a free man with nothing more than a conditional sentence.
Yes, I’m angry. Violence has a way of victimizing and then re-victimizing people. Not only do people get hurt by it, but if it’s not brought to justice, the next victim remains silent, and the violence is allowed to continue. And get worse. The next time a young woman sits in a room like I did with a social worker and police officer, she’ll know that if she reports this, there’s a good chance it won’t make any difference.
It’s the same thing we see with brutal dictators like those who are finally being challenged in the Middle East. For years they perpetuate their violence and the victims remain silent because there’s a good chance things will only get worse instead of better if they report it. In some countries, young women who are raped end up being stoned or forced to marry their rapist because somehow it was THEIR fault.
Though I didn’t have to live through the court system, I know a bit about what it feels like to feel blamed. When people found out what happened, I got a lot of support, but I also heard a number of stupid questions. “Why did you have your window open?” (Because it was a furnace in my apartment and I didn’t want to suffocate. Is it wrong to sleep with my window open?) “Couldn’t you have kicked him in the groin or something?” (And risk getting even more hurt than I was? As it was, he tried to stab me with my scissors when I tried to resist – I didn’t exactly want to piss him off further.)
It’s time to stop blaming the victim. No matter what personal choices we make, none of us invite violence on ourselves.
It’s time to call violence – under ANY circumstances – wrong.
(Note: I’m happy to learn that the judge in this case is under review.)
by Heather Plett | Feb 21, 2011 | change, Passion, practice
As my children will attest, some days it takes only a minor stimulus to illicit a rant from me. Today it was this booklet that made its way to the top of our piano – How to Get Good Grades, in Ten Easy Steps.
Easy? Really?
Now, let’s be honest, if you’re not academically inclined, there is nothing easy about getting good grades. And if you ARE academically inclined, well then you wouldn’t be picking up this little booklet, would you?
Do you think the publishers of this book are doing the students any good by putting the word “easy” in the title? I don’t think so. You’re not going to fool a kid who’s ready to give up on school by telling them there’s an easy fix. If they’ve failed a few courses and their self esteem is in the toilet because of it, setting them up for one more failure by calling it “easy” is just cruel rather than helpful.
And here comes the rant…
Most of the things in life that are worth their weight in gold are most definitely NOT going to be easy.
Let’s stop trying to pretend they are. Let’s stop trying to sell ourselves on the idea that there’s such a thing as “easy weight loss” or “easy relationship fixes” or “easy steps to physical fitness”. Let’s toss “ten easy steps” out the window for once and for all, shall we?
The marketers who are selling you those easy fixes? They’re lying to you.
Good things take work. And practice. And perseverance. And blood, sweat, and tears.
My oldest daughter was struggling through her first high school math class last term. After a disappointing start, she was determined to improve her grade. After weeks of studying, extra homework, meeting with the teacher, re-doing her homework, and studying some more, she did just that – improve her grade. Was it easy? Not a chance.
Several years ago, my husband decided that, after 22 years in the transportation industry, he wanted to become a teacher. He’d never even finished high school, and yet he had this dream. Five and a half years later, he had two university degrees and a teacher’s certificate. There was very little about that journey that was easy, not even for those of us who supported him through it. But was it worth it? Of course!
I’m in the midst of becoming a runner. This morning I was very proud of the fact that I ran six miles. That accomplishment couldn’t have happened, though, without nine months of practicing and sweating and hurting and practicing some more. Yes I may love it and want to keep doing it, but… easy? Not one minute of it.
I am also writing a book. Sure there may be some days when the writing flows and it feels like it requires no more effort than breathing, but there are other days I feel like l’m slitting open a vein and letting the blood pour. And even those pages that showed up without much effort will still require hours of editing and rewriting and agonizing before they’re ready for prime time. Nope, nothing easy about that either. I want it more than almost anything else in the world, though, so I’ll stick with it.
Anyone who’s developed a meditation practice or yoga practice or dance practice or any other kind of practice can tell you that it requires years of dragging yourself to the mat or cushion or floor, working through heaps of resistance and pain, and persevering through all of those times when it just feels like nothing is happening. Easy? No way. Worth it? Oh yes.
Anyone who’s worked through depression or eating disorders or anxiety disorders or mental illness of any kind will tell you there’s nothing easy about that either. Worth it when you’ve worked through to the other side? Yes. But easy? Don’t ever insult them by implying that it is.
Anyone who has committed themselves to social change – protestors in Tahrir Square, people committed to peace and justice working in Darfur, front-line workers in poverty-stricken neighbourhoods all over the world – will tell you that it’s terrifying and hard and discouraging and only occasionally exhilarating, but easy? Never.
You get my point. Growing, learning, changing, improving, transforming – all of those things take years of effort and pain and frustration and surrender and practice and agony.
Sure, there are things that fall within your gifts that might feel easy from time to time (eg. I once had an article published in the Globe and Mail that took no more than 15 minutes to write and not a single edit), but perfecting anything – even if it comes naturally – is hard work. Just ask any Olympic athlete or world class musician.
Let’s stop trying to fool ourselves. It’s not going to be easy.
Worth it? Most definitely. But easy? Not a chance.