What's the Point?

When you have dug into what you believe you can't not do, the hard places are sure to follow. Going to the hard places is where you find the real challenges, the real people, the real world. It is where your commitment is tested. And there is no better way to prove your commitment than to put yourself in a challenging, hard place to see how it feels. Can you be effective when the going gets tough? Can you persevere for the long haul despite the odds and the obstacles?

Pete Carroll is the coach of the Seattle Seahawks. I didn't like him so much when he was at the University of Southern California, but I love him now that he's our coach and I have a much better sense of the whole person. When he's not working the sidelines, his greatest passion is preventing youth and gang violence. He created A Better LA (www.abetterla.org) to “restore peace, save lives, and give Angelenos living in inner city LA the resources they need in order to thrive.” He also created A Better Seattle (www.abetterseattle.com) to “reduce Seattle area youth and gang violence by forging partnerships that generate opportunities for at-risk youth to take control of their lives and strive for better futures.”

Any time I see a sports star, Hollywood star, or famous personality create a charitable endeavor, I am skeptical. So does Pete Carroll really mean business or is he just building his image? Well, one way to know is to ask if he has been willing to go, literally, to the hard places. To go on the street to meet these young people where they are. And does he do it when the cameras aren't rolling?

The answer is a definite yes (he did take 60 Minutes with him one evening in Los Angeles to draw attention to the issue). He's out there, many nights, in the middle of the night, when the spotlight isn't on. No, Pete Carroll is not putting his life at risk, simply because of who he is. But he is going where the real problem lives. He is finding the hard places, and the youth there, and vows he'll continue once the spotlights fade.

I happened to be in a working session last year that focused on A Better Seattle. We knew Coach Carroll was going to stop in for a few minutes. He was there on time, stayed beyond his scheduled time, and talked as passionately about this work as I'd ever seen him talk about a football game. And that means a very high, intense level of passion.

As he was getting up to leave, something made me blurt out, “So, are you truly committed to this work for the long-term, coach, meaning after you're done coaching?” After he stared me down like I was Jim Harbaugh (if you don't understand that reference, Google their two names together), he said something like, “Yes. Yes, I am. This is my passion, these kids,” then he walked out, somewhat defiantly, as if my question irritated him. Time will tell, but I'd bet on him.

Coach Carroll is not a no-name, regular guy; he's pretty famous. But the lesson to learn here is universal. This is not about winning a Super Bowl. This is about going to hard places, regardless of who you are or what you have done, and sticking with it.

Look at a few of the hard places we have seen so far: third-world illiteracy, impoverished orphanages, inner city violence, the list goes on and on. These are physically and mentally hard places. Yet, there are people who are willing to go there. They are compelled to act, and if they don't, real change is much less likely to happen.

We know they are optimistic about change. They feel, in their core, that the cause needs them and they are willing to throw themselves into the fray. They know they don't have all the answers. Sometimes it's not as much about succeeding today as it is committing to the struggle for the future. Each can't-not-do person I talked with knows digging deeply into this work will sometimes be very hard, but it's the only place where real change happens. In fact, until you make this work hard, you are probably not close enough to the real problems to help effect real change; I can't emphasize that enough.

Does this work go smoothly? No. Failures and missteps abound. You have to be willing to deal with them. Virtuoso violinists are known for leaning in to their mistakes. When there is a piece they are struggling to play at the level to which they are accustomed, they stay with the discomfort of their failings longer than just about anyone else.¹ It is in those moments, days, and weeks of trying to get it right that they become great. They don't move on to their next piece or one that is easier or one they know they can play. They stay in that hard place.

Nowadays, we love to glorify and celebrate the tech entrepreneur who went through hell, failed and got back up, beat the odds, and succeeded. We even talk about “failing fast.” Why should it be any different in this work of helping make the world a better place? What cause in life are you willing to fail and get back up for and keep on going to beat the odds and succeed?

Failure is the way we learn and get better, right? We need to reconstruct our relationship to failure, like virtuoso violinists and entrepreneurs, and rethink the role it plays in helping make each of us a better, stronger person for change in our communities. Without the willingness to fail, which is what inevitably happens when we dig into the hard places in the work of social change, real change will not happen. One way to know if you've dug in far enough is to know that failure feels likely on the horizon. That's the place where the world's best violinists and entrepreneurs, and regular heroes, lean in.

Some Hard Places Aren't Places

Kids in foster care suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder² at a higher rate than returning combat war veterans and more than half struggle with mental health challenges stemming from the trauma they've endured. Academically, they face an uphill battle due to changes in home placements and school transitions and the ongoing emotional upheaval. Access to important socialization opportunities, like music lessons and team sports, is limited, as is access to funding for essential needs like clothing, shoes, school supplies, haircuts, and school fees.

Let's talk about one of those agencies that tends to make the news too frequently; they don't want to either, by the way. The Washington State Department of Social and Health Services oversees the foster care system in the state of Washington. On any given day there are 1,300 to 1,500 children in foster care in King County, and about 10,000 children in foster care across Washington state.³ Approximately 65 percent of the kids enter the system due to parental neglect, while most of the others enter because of physical and sexual abuse. These kids come from any and all cultural, geographic, and socioeconomic groups.

There may be no more difficult, hard-to-navigate, fraught-with-entrenched-players system in our communities than the child welfare system. No doubt, you can make a meaningful contribution to the lives of individual children and youth, one at a time, but it doesn't change the underlying system. Helping one youth at a time is hard enough, and a good thing, but trying to change the system to help thousands of these kids live better lives demands the willingness, fortitude, thick skin, and huge heart to wade into the hard places of the child welfare system.

It's important to know that each of the regular heroes in this book brings vastly different resources and experiences to impact social problems. Some are nonprofit leaders who make change happen on the ground, and some are philanthropists who are making deep investments in their communities. Some are working the mean streets; others' hard places are monolithic agencies and governmental systems.

Connie Ballmer is one of those individuals. After reading heartbreaking articles and learning about the fate of many foster care children, she reached out to the University of Washington School of Social Work Dean Edwina Uehara and then-Department of Social and Health Services Secretary Robin Arnold-Williams to figure out what could be done and how. When I asked her what made her jump into this particular area she said, “Being a mom. Empathy with children who have no choice in this situation they're put in. I don't know why you wouldn't care. It's just such a crappy, crappy situation. For most kids, yeah, it's kind of tough if you have a bad teacher. Maybe your education isn't great that year. But it's really bad if you don't have a family. So to me, it feels like a no-brainer.” It doesn't feel like a no-brainer to most of the rest of us.

I could have included Connie in Chapter 1 (determined optimists) very easily. Connie is one of the most grounded, centered people I've met along this journey. She refuses to take herself too seriously, is constantly open to learning and new ideas, and at the same time, just dogged in pursuit of what's right. She's going to need all of those traits. Connie provided some of the seed money to start Partners for Our Children (www.partnersforourchildren.org) to focus resources and expertise on the state's child welfare system. It is a collaboration between the Washington State Department of Social and Health Services, the University of Washington School of Social Work, and private sector and philanthropic funding. This is hard-core systems work. A lot of people get in at that level and don't realize just how hard, messy, and complex it is.

So what does the experience of diving deep enough to truly be working in a hard place like the child welfare system feel like? I'll let Connie answer that question, just read and feel what she says about her can't not do:

• What's the mindset you need to have? “We have to do this, just hold out. At some point you get too far into it, then you can't pull out. Well, you can pull out, but what would that say? ‘Okay, we're closing up shop? It was a bad idea? We decided not to do this?’ No, it's not a bad idea. It was a good idea. It is still a good idea. Somebody at the end of the line can add up how much you spend on it and go, really, was that really worth it? But for now, we are going to keep at it.”
• What keeps you going? “There are little points of light, you know. You just need little bits of hope that can help you keep going. If we can do something, if that bit of work helps three case workers have an aha or if I can get the tech guys to upgrade the equipment so people are more efficient, then I have done something.…As long as we keep doing something.”
• And what might you learn, how might you personally be changed? “I'm much more patient about the reality. It introduced me to the complexities of this problem, which opens my mind to being much more aware of the complexity of every issue. It's so complex. It enables me to see many more areas in gray. That's what's good about this. Because it can be a little overwhelming, but being more patient also enables you to be more effective.”

Listening to Connie made me think about Lisa Chin's answer when someone asked her, “Are you happy?”

I want to be very clear about one thing—money matters, most surely. Some of the people I talked with for this book have meaningful financial resources, and some do not. But all the money in the world doesn't make one cent of difference without the persistent, dogged willingness to keep wading into the hard places. Not one cent. Connie understands the realities of being involved at this level (and she is another one of those people that is deeply focused and committed, but it's not her full-time endeavor).

“Systems work is important. Somebody's got to care about the systems. Whether it's in child welfare or just in government in general. You can't just make an end run. This is our system. These are our children.” She understands and does not shy away from the hard places.

The foster/child welfare system is one of the hardest realms of all in which to make positive progress. Partners for Our Children has succeeded in being a key player in passing legislation to move toward performance-based contracting in Washington state, that is, aligning funding with successful placements of foster kids. It has also implemented a first-of-its kind data sharing arrangement with the state's Children's Administration. Pretty wonky sounding stuff, but vital precursors to seeing the same kind of progress in foster care as we've seen for reducing teen pregnancy and violent crime in the United States.

What If You Have to Leave a Hard Place?

No matter how hard we try or how committed we are, there is always a possibility that we can't stick with it. So what happens when someone decides they don't want to be in that hard place anymore? The simple fact is some people will quit; it doesn't make them bad people. Face it, each of us might be the one bailing someday. Or maybe we just need a break. Creating true, deep, and real change in our world is hard work. It can be painful and ego-bruising. Those realities leave me with a few thoughts to share:

• Before you find that cause that you really want to dig into deeply, take inventory. What's up in the rest of your life, your work, and your relationships? Do you have the personal capacity right now to invest X hours a week and enough energy and emotion for the long term? The timing in your life may not be right, so wait. But don't wait too long, and don't give yourself an easy out, either.
• If you've decided you are ready to dig in to that hard place, think about how and who will support and replenish your energy. It's going to be hard when you get close enough to the real work and the real opportunities for change. It will drain you. It will challenge your confidence. Who will be your trusted allies? Who will you turn to and who will listen? What will get you through the darkest moments and re-inspire you, like Dwight when he visits the villagers again? Have a personal support plan.
• If you do decide, for whatever reason, that you need to step back from the challenge at hand, please think about the hole you may be leaving. Before you leave, can you fill that hole with someone or something else? We could way overdo the battle analogies here, but is there someone who can pick up the fight if you have to leave the battle? Maybe you are wounded and just need a break.
• And last, but not least, you are not an evil or bad or faulty person if you do step back, especially if you've given it your honest hard work, your best effort, your authentic sweat equity. You are human. If you did give it a sincere effort, and make sure you truly did, don't beat yourself up. Be proud that you had the guts to wade in where most people won't ever go in the first place. Life around us changes, puts other pressures or demands on us. Know that maybe, just maybe, you moved the boulder up the hill just a little further, just enough so the next person can push it over the top and real change will happen.

Changing the world is not an easy task. Projects go sideways, funding dries up, politics and personalities try the patience of even the greatest of saints. Face it, failure inevitably happens along the way. And it can be a bitter pill to swallow. It can also be the source of profound lessons learned and lay the groundwork for even more satisfying, meaningful positive change down the road.

Failure Never Feels Good to Anyone, Including Me

Since 1997, SVP Seattle has worked closely with over 75 nonprofits in the greater Seattle area. When I say closely, I mean we work hand-in-hand with each nonprofit's executive director, staff, and board. We provide unrestricted grants to help a nonprofit build its organizational capacity to deliver its programs. This translates into things like building databases, developing strategic plans, negotiating leases or licensing agreements, and leadership development for key personnel. SVP assigns a single partner, an unpaid volunteer member of SVP, to work directly with the nonprofit's executive director. The partner is a sounding board, mentor, and resource locator. When the executive director and partner click, it is a beautiful thing.

But as in any relationship, there are bumps along the way. Sometimes you work them out, and sometimes the bumps are really ramps leading to a big cliff. I've watched a few of these during my tenure and they can be incredibly painful. In 2007, SVP and Passages Northwest (http://ymcaleadership.com/gold/) started a new relationship. For the first two years, we all described it as ideal. Their executive director was fully engaged in an open and honest relationship, the organization was tearing through capacity building projects and engaging with multiple SVP Partners. Its Girls Rock!⁴ program expanded by 40 percent, which meant more than 130 girls could take advantage of an intensive 10-week courage and leadership building class revolving around rock climbing. The young girls come back from these trips on fire with creative and physical courage.

So why is this story in the chapter on hard places? In May of 2009, the executive director tendered her resignation, effective in October. SVP has seen a lot of executive director transitions over the years and offered the services of an executive search consultant to assist the board with the process. For the first round of the search, Passages recruited a diverse search committee of board members, staff, and community stakeholders. The search committee narrowed the field to two final candidates. The board and the staff strongly disagreed on the candidates. The search committee chair, who was a board member, dismissed the candidates and fired the community stakeholders and the staff from the search committee. Board members felt that the community members and staff were not asking the right questions and didn't know how to properly evaluate an executive.

At the same time, the board started making organizational changes. It let the development director go. The board also decided to eliminate the director tier, flattening the organization and demoting those who once served in that capacity. The board and staff not only disagreed on candidates, they also disagreed on how to interpret the organization's mission. Staff felt social justice should drive who could participate in programs, and the board just wanted to get as many girls in the program as possible. Where was SVP all this time? We were paying for the executive search and knew a successful hire would mean a continued successful relationship. We were so confident in the organization's past performance, we thought that stepping back and letting the board do its work was the best approach. We also shifted our lead partner onto another project. We ended up with an angry board driving the bus, a supportive SVP partner no longer involved, and disenchanted staff wondering what the heck was going on.

By the time the board hired a new executive director in October, everyone was burned out. The organization was in financial crisis. In the end, Passages Northwest had to close its doors. The good news is the YMCA picked up its programming, but regardless, a lot of opportunity to serve more girls had been lost.

That experience went in the failure column in my book. When you add it all up, lots of people own responsibility, but I sit here knowing SVP should have seen some of this coming. We are the ones with the experience in executive director transitions and all the things that can go wrong, but I somehow stood by and watched too many things going too wrong. Nonprofits are the experts at delivering their programs; SVP is the expert guide in building organizational capacity. We kept our mouths shut when we should have been speaking up. That hurts. Living in the hard place of feeling like you failed an organization is not a comfortable feeling. Sometimes in this work, you flat-out fail and you've just got to learn.

I share that short story in the spirit of openness and owning my failure and also to show, once more, that you can't make real change unless you get close enough to the real problem. In this case, I think we were a little too afraid to get close enough and the consequences were significant.

Finding Meaning in a Hard Place

That whole notion that you learn more from your failures and when times are tough is so true. It's just that it sucks when you are in the middle of the mess. But most surely, you cannot know what you are made of, how committed you are, what it is you can't not do unless you go find the hard places. Does it hurt yet? Can you viscerally feel the pain from what you are hoping to make better?

Recently, the Stanford Graduate School of Business did some research, published in the Journal of Positive Psychology, in which they talked to nearly 400 people to learn whether people thought their lives were meaningful or happy.⁵ They discovered a few related things:

• Satisfying your desires creates happiness, but it has nothing to do with a sense of meaning in life.
• Closer to the point, highly meaningful lives encounter lots of negative events and issues (hard places) that can cause reduced happiness.
• And about the end game—happiness is about getting what you want, meaningfulness is about expressing and defining yourself. A life of meaning is more deeply tied to a valued sense of self and one's purpose in life and community.

Being happy and living a life of meaning and purpose are not mutually exclusive. I'm just saying that creating real change, as in the cases of Eleuthera and Connie, may not always be about happiness. At times, it will be stressful and unhappy in the hard places of real change. Or as another friend, Paul Speer, told me “when given the choice of going down a path you know versus one you don't, pick the one you don't know. Because that puts you in uncomfortable and unfamiliar territory.…It's going to be an opportunity to do something that's really different with bigger impact.” Paul also told me, in his community work, he feels like he “doesn't have time to not make an impact.” More of that bad, sticky, double negative grammar.

It's about embracing that this social change work is hard, but in that experience, you are doing something of deep, meaningful purpose, what you are supposed to do. There are easier ways to do this and these regular heroes don't take that path. Going to the hard places creates a much deeper sense of identification and connection with what's really going on and with real people. And it will change you. There is deep purpose and profound meaning for the people willing to go there. As Amelia Earhart says:

The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity. The fears are paper tigers. You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change and control your life; and the procedure, the process is its own reward.