Gifts Great Leaders Give

Dion Flynn, Brenny Rabine, Melissa Delany Del Valle and Geoff Tarson

From our current Kopco newsletter, where you can also get recommendations for great books and talks, and a coupon for free presentation coaching, we offer you these thoughts on gifts great leaders give.

During the holiday season, giving gifts becomes a major task and preoccupation. For improvisers giving gifts is an everyday focus. We talk about viewing mistakes as gifts that allow us to create fresh and unexpected scenes and narratives. We talk about receiving our partners ideas as gifts and expressing whole-hearted  acceptance of them. We aim to "delight our partners" by thinking about what offers we can make that will delight and inspire them.

Leaders, too, can think about giving gifts to their people year-round, and improv practice offers a number of them. For your consideration at this time of year, some gifts we believe great leaders give:

• Attention - Many of us are starved for it. Simply feeling seen and heard can increase motivation and commitment. And leaders who pay attention - by walking around, talking to people, asking questions, listening rather than speaking - give themselves the gift of richer, more honest and useful information.
• "Yes, and" - This foundational improv principle simply means accept what is offered and build with it. Good and generous leaders give the gift of building with what they see and hear - with what exists, BECAUSE it exists.  By doing so, they develop deeper more trusting relationships, and have access to better more innovative solutions to issues.    
• Status - Face it, feeling respected and powerful is a fundamental human desire. Those in positions of authority can become blind to the privileges they have. We forget that others do not have the flexibility, attention, care-taking that we enjoy. By honoring others publicly, complimenting them authentically, and conferring real autonomy and authority, leaders can give the gift of status, one of the most valued gifts of all.  
• Room to Fail - Improvisers speak about celebrating failure because they know that it is only in a culture where failure is REALLY okay, not just tolerated as a cringe-worthy evil, that creativity and collaboration can thrive.  

By cultivating a mindset of delighting others and giving the gifts mentioned above, leaders become more effective, more influential, and more appreciated. 

When, where and to whom can you give more of these?

Committed Collaboration

Jay Roderick and Kat Koppett, overseen by Cathy Salit at CiBC

You know the old saw about the difference between contributing and committing? It goes: The chicken contributes to breakfast. The pig is committed.

Improvisers commit to collaboration. They live and die by it. Our mantra is "Make your partner look good." This means: Focus on your partner, not yourself. Delight them. No matter what brilliant idea you yourself have, let your partners offers guide you. Collaborate or die!

On stage,  this can be a challenging enough task. Especially when you have a "good" idea, and you are sure the audience will reward you with laughter and applause. But the best improvisers know that "Make your partner look good" is not just something nice to do when it's easy and convenient. The best improvisers know (often because they've learned it the hard way through many years of trying it the cheap way) that "Make your partner look good" is THE fundamental secret to creating rich, meaningful and yes, funny improv scenes. It is only by focusing on the people you are working with, by supporting their ideas, by looking for ways to inspire and engage them, that something sustainable and  truly creative can be built. The audience may, in fact, laugh at the individual funny gag made at the expense of your partner. But what happens after it has been proffered? Do you have an engaged partner working with you or a distracted, embarrassed or downright pissed Other? Do you have a scene that is moving forward or story shambles? Are you expending energy competing for status and control or really working together to build something better?

Even in formats such as the world-reknowned Theatresports (tm) in which teams of improvisers compete for the approval of Olympic-style judges, the improvisers realize that the "competition" is just a gimmick. As the Artistic Director of The Mop & Bucket Company, Michael Burns, like to say to his casts, "Remember people, Theatresports is not really a competition. It's a show ABOUT a competition. Help each other out." In Theatresports, that may mean a team decides to forgo performing their favorite game because the other team just did a similar one and the show needs something else. Or it may mean that a member of one team actually jumps in to the other team's scene to offer support.

In life we talk about collaboration a good deal, but we tend to be chickens rather than pigs. How many of us regularly put our own heads on the chopping block to support the interests of our partners? How deeply do we really believe that if we focus on supporting those around us, our own opportunities will grow and improve? Do any of us promote our direct competition?

Improvisers do. Even in our business lives. Not always, of course, but to a surprising degree. I was struck anew by this fact last month when I was working for Performance of A Lifetime.  Performance of A Lifetime (POAL) is theatre-based executive education firm based in New York City. Although there are style and content differences between Kopco and POAL's work that we as practitioners are aware of, tor all intents and purposes the are minor, and most clients would be hard-pressed to name them. We are direct competitors by any definition. It would have made great traditional business sense for us to be rivals. We could have chosen a performance of competition and proprietary "closed-door-ness" in which we made sure not to reveal our processes and content to each other. We could have made every contractor we worked with sign non-disclosure agreements and choose sides. Instead, (and I give POAL all the credit for initiating this) we have chosen to embrace each other. Regularly, they hire us. And we hired them. When onsite with a client of theirs,  POAL people promote our book and ideas. When working for them, we help with instruction design and client relationship building, knowing that the work will be better, and better is good for both organizations.
Last month, Cathy Salit, POAL's President and I, both presented at the Creativity In Business conference in D.C. We had our own individual sessions in which we offered up our own individual spins on using improv in organizations. We also said yes when Michelle James, the conference organizer, asked us to do a closing session together. I don't know how Cathy felt but for me that joint session was the highlight of the day. I know we got more positive feedback (and more business leads) from that session than from the other two.
POAL has influenced Kopco's work and deepened it in innumerable ways. They tell us that our involvement with them has made their work better (and more marketable) as well.
When the field of Applied Improv was growing up, we collectively wrestled with how much to share, how much to protect, how much to be a community. In the end, (or currently), a belief in the value of collaboration won out. The Applied Improv Network was born, and through that organization we share content and process tips, form partnerships and alliances,  and promote each other as a way to promote the field and ourselves. We understand that growing a field of high-quality and respected practitioners is good for us all - for our reputation, for the understanding of what we do, and for our own growth and pride in our work. Plus it's way more fun to play with others.
My book, Training to Imagine (due out in a new edition early 2012) lists dozens of improv exercises with facilitator guides. I set myself the task of attributing those exercises. But, of course, that was an impossible task. Virtually all of the games were created, appropriated, reinvented, and inspired by hoards of anonymous improvisers over the years. The best I could do was say, "I learned this here," or " I know this person influenced the work in this way." Ultimately, the bottom line is that Applied Improv is now an actual field - a rich, dynamic, growing one - because people shared their creativity rather than hiding it. We committed to collaboration. And now we are all bacon. What could be more delicious?
I know it may sound crazy but give it a try. Ask yourself:
 - Who are my competitors?
 - Is there any way I can support them? Make them look good? (Think "Miracle On 34th Street" when Santa sends a customer to Gimble's.)
 - Take stock: Spend just a moment assessing who has helped you, influenced your work, given you opportunities. As Elizabeth Warren has been saying, none of us did it on our own.
 - Be grateful. Pay it forward.
Then sit back and see what comes back to you. New learning, fresh perspectives, deeper relationships, unanticipated opportunities. And make sure to let us know.

Tips for Facilitating Improv (and Other Experiential Activities) in Organizations

At the Applied Improvisation Network's (appliedimprov.net) 2011 annual conference in Baltimore this month, a bunch of us got together to explore the nuts and bolts of choosing, running and debriefing improv activities in organizational settings.

"We want a Top -10 Tips list," one of the participants commented. Perhaps I should already have had such a thing, nicely designed and laminated, but I didn't. Still, an offer is an offer, and we're all improvisers, so we made one up as we went.

Here it is with a few embellishments based on conversations and musings since. Much of it comes down to practicing what you preach when you are teaching applied improv, and therefore link back to principles discussed here previously.  What resonates for you? What did we miss? We look forward to you comments and input. Then we promise to laminate.

1. Know your objective: Improv is no different from any other learning and development intervention. You must know what you are trying to accomplish. Ask yourself "What do I want the participants to DO differently when they leave here?" (See post 12/1/09 - Jolts etc. for more on identifying the types of activities and intentions.)
   
   
2. Focus on your partner  - The workshop participants are your partners. It is all about them. Keith Johnstone often criticized the emcees in his format, Theatresports, for competing for the limelight, instead of simply holding the space and providing a context for the performers to perform. Anything you do - including being charismatic or funny - should support your objective and add value for the learners, not just make you feel smart or attractive or important.
   
3. Acknowledge and celebrate failure. Things don't always go according to plan, or well for that matter. As we are encouraging our learners to take risks and try on new performances, , we must also be willing to try new things, adapt to the needs and styles of the learners in the room, and acknowledge and celebrate when activities don't work. San Francisco-based improviser and trainer, Diane Rache,  gave us a great example of saying, "Well, that didn't go the way I planned! Whoo hoo!" People notice, and are delighted when you demonstrate that you too are fallible and willing to grow.
   
4. Safe is different from comfortable. This is one of my personal favorites, and one that I credit my colleagues at Performance of a Lifetime with bringing home to me. I used to believe that creating a safe environment meant not requiring anyone to do anything that made them uncomfortable. Then it became clear that "comfortable" was the wrong goal. In some ways it is the opposite of the goal. Learning and growing is by definition about moving outside our "comfort zones". Creating safety means creating an environment (and a mindset) in which one can seek out, and sit with, discomfort in order to stretch and grow. Just like working out at they gym or doing yoga. Duh. Ask yourself: What can I do to support the participants in trying NEW performances and gathering NEW insights.
5. Yes, and the participants - Or as our guru, Thiagi (www.thiagi.com),  would say, "Let the inmates run the asylum." If you don't really want to know about participants' experience of an activity,  or their answers to your questions, don't ask! If you do ask, honor their input - even if it is not what you were expecting, or like, or wanted.  If we are really good we should be hugely prepared, and completely willing to throw away our plan if it turns out our agenda is not aligned with the needs of the learners.
6. Dare to be dull - As I was about to run the "Mirror" game as an example of a non-verbal leadership exercise,  to an audience of applied improv facilitators, I thought,  "Geez, everyone here is going to know this game. What do I have that's clever and original and impressive?"  As improvisers, many of us like new things and want to feel exciting and clever and original and innovative. But the good ol' staples are staples because they are great. They are simple and clear and foundational. AND... for many of your participants they are fresh, even revelatory. My father always used to talk about how orchestras like to play obscure modern pieces, but audiences want to hear Beethoven's 9th. Use the game that meets your objective best, not the one that is most exciting to you. (See Tips 1,2 and 5) Of course, new games can be good, too. The times to try new game are when you feel you need something that meets a specific need better than the material you have. Or when you need to do something fresh to keep yourself focused and developing.
7. Show, Don’t Tell. Experiential learning is valuable because it's experiential. Do not tell the participants - before or after the game - what their experience will or should be. Ask, listen, respect, build from. (See Tip 5 again - it's always all about yes, and, of course.)
   
8. Activity is just an excuse for a good debrief: Again quoting the incomparable Thiagi.   Tip 7 notwithstanding, we do not learn from our experience, we learn from examining our experience. Think about your objective and structure your debrief in service of it. Oh, and remember some of Thiagi's fabulous 6 Debrief questions - useful for any activity in any circumstance:
   • How do you feel?
   • What happened?
   • What did you learn?
   • How does this relate to the real world?
   • What if? (e.g. What if we played with strangers;  What if I told you you were wrong after every offer...)
   • What next?
9. Respect differences - Use activities that are varied. Respect different behavioral and learning styles. Improv, as much as we tout its value, is just one of many tools.  As attractive as our flashy hammer may be, not everything is a nail.
10. Improv is valuable – trust yourself. AND...Improv is a hugely valuable tool. It is not just a metaphor. We are all improvising all the time. Do not over-sell. Trust that if you thought about Tips 1 and 2, your participants WILL see value. You are NOT an imposter.

Thank you! What else?

Lessons from the Circus, Part 2 - Support

It is hardly news that it takes a lot of back-room planning, prep, attention and support from many many people to make the stars of the show shine. But this truth bears itself so nakedly at a circus that it is breathtaking. The support is so literal. At any given time, while an astonishing performer performs an astonishing feat, there are stage hands, announcers, musicians and other - sometimes just as astonishingly talented - performers working to make that feat succeed.

Moving beyond the cliche of remembering how necessary and important support staff is, I was struck by a couple of things as an improviser, performer and performance coach.

1. Support Shifts: In the circus, everyone works, and roles shift. Even the biggest star, has moments standing on the sidelines giving focus to other performers. And often, someone will be performing in the spotlight one moment and supporting the next. And it is as important for the success of the show that you commit to your support roles as that you do well when you're the star. Quite literally, it was the performers standing around "spotting" the star who were the different between a feat succeeding or failing. Improvisers follow the tenant, "Making your partner look good." No matter what task the circus performers are fulfilling, it seems they adhere to the same rule.

In improv, we take the ideas of shifting roles even further. We do not even know from moment to moment which role we will be called on to play. When a scene starts, there is no identified "star". We serve the scene. If we are endowed by our partners as the protagonist, then that's what we do. Perhaps we will be the straight man that night, perhaps the clown. Perhaps this time we sing the big number. Next time we dance in the chorus.

This does not mean, of course, that individuals don't have specialized skills or talents that are turned to at certain moments. It does mean, however, that we have broad opportunities and responsibilities. Rather than thinking, "What is my job description?" We ask,  "What is needed?" "What can I do to add value?" "How can I make my partner look good?"

2. Support is a Skill. We tend to think of the center stage performer as the one who has practiced obsessively and who has the special talent. But support skills require development, dedication and special abilities as well. The catcher has worked just as hard and honed just as many skills as the aerialist he is catching, of course. We know that. But the folks setting up the tent have also learned special skills and honed them over time and know and can do things we don't even think about. The people who sell cotton candy and whirly lights and pictures are not just your average retail personnel. They have polished a style and strategy that draws crowds and sells huge amounts of stuff, and their work supports the running of the circus as a whole.

In any group, certain skills are prized more highly than others, certain tasks and professions given more status and reward. That does not mean - as much as we might like it to mean - that those skills are the hardest, or even the most important. It simply means they are the highest status. Now, far be it from me to get into the economics of it all. I am not talking social policy or fairness here (though there are clearly important conversations to have in those arenas.) I am simply suggesting that when we equate the status of a skill set with its difficulty, we are making a mistake. I have a good friend who is a professor of theatre at a college in California. When her students complain that an assignment or activity is too difficult, she replies, "Really? THIS is difficult? Come on - it's just an acting exercise. Mining coal is difficult!"Coal miners may not have the highest status in our society, but could you do what they do?

So,

• What are the skills that are HARD and under appreciated in your world?
• What skills could you acquire with some time and effort that would benefit the group most - even if they are not the most glamorous ones?
• How can you and your community get better and recognizing and rewarding support activities, not simply in a "let's thank the little people" cursory way, but for real?

3. Support is Fun. What? Yes! In addition to be hard and under-appreciated and often invisible, support can be great fun. Supporting casts take as much pride in their work as the stars dancing out front. Being the magical force that sets the scene or saves the star right before disaster, or provides the opportunity for someone else to shine can be just as satisfying as the shining itself. Anyone who is a parent knows that.

Do yourself a favor and  find some new ways (and new people) to support.  And then let us know how it goes, eh?

We appreciate your support.

The Circus Bow and other Lessons From the Big Top, Part 1 - Celebrating Failure

The circus was in town this weekend, and I spent possibly the best Mother's Day ever accompanying my 7-year-old to her first circus experience. Her palpable delight ranks as the highlight. Here was a close second:

For years, my colleagues and I have been talking about the improviser's creed to "Celebrate Failure". The idea that failure is an integral part of doing anything new or creative, e.g. learning to play an instrument, inventing a light bulb, raising a child,  has finally tipped in business circles. This month alone it has been featured in pieces in the Harvard Business Review, on TED.com,  and in Seth Godin's blog. Godin sums things up nicely with this: "As soon as you say, 'Failure is not an option,' you've said, 'Innovation is not an option.'" (Seth Godin's Blog 4/28/11)

Improvisers, by the nature of what they do - making things up on the spot with no rehearsal or time to go back and fix things - have recognized for a long time that if you wish to grow and create, you must not just tolerate failure, you must celebrate it. In order to maintain the motivation and courage to continually try new things, take bigger risks, develop new strategies and techniques and performances, you must learn, in fact, to delight in failure.

So what does this have to do with the circus? Well, one of the ways we remind ourselves to take big risks and celebrate mistakes is by practicing (and teaching our students and clients) what we call The Circus Bow. Here's our spiel on it...

You know how when you go to the circus and you see the guy on the trapeze and the Ring Master says, "Ladies and Gentlemen, Children of All Ages.... now, for the moment you've all been waiting for! The Great Sandroni will now attempt the impossible QUADRUPLE flip! Drumroll, please" Then the Great Sandroni flies through the air and spins, once, twice, three and a half times and splat. Into the net, thankfully. Then what happens? He slinks away in embarrassment, mumbling that he's really good at a triple and should have stuck with that, right? No? Oh, he blames the catcher, right? No? What? Right! He takes a great big bow for attempting the impossible and the crowd goes wild!


In workshops, we then have the participants raise their hands above their head and say, "I failed" "I made a mistake!" "I feel silly!" to enthusiastic rounds of applause. Then, we charge them with trying new things. We encourage them to take risks and to dare to be silly, foolish, boring, obvious and simply bad at these new things they try. And when they fail, we tell me, simply take a Circus Bow and we'll give you your round of applause.  It's a lovely metaphor and really does help create a supportive and safe environment for growth.

That said, I wondered after all these years of repeating the story, if things really went down that way at the real circus. Well, guess what?! On Sunday afternoon, after completing amazing tricks on the trapeze, one of the star aerialist was introduced..."Ladies and Gentlemen, Children of All Ages.....the impossible... QUADRUPLE flip.....!" And... after a huge build up complete with drumroll, the aerialist took off into the air and... he missed! And... he took a great big bow. And.... the crowd went wild.
Fantastic!

Improvising the Permanent or Maybe Capturing the Improvised

A few months ago - okay about a year ago - I contacted the publisher of my 2001 book, Training to Imagine and suggested that perhaps it was time for a revised, updated edition. He enthusiastically (and to be honest, slightly surprisingly) agreed, adding that in addition to a print edition, we should discuss creating an e-book, videos and other supporting materials.
So, I dove into the project. It seemed straightforward enough. So much has happened in the fields of applied improv (I don't think the term even existed in 2000) and storytelling in the last decade, and I, myself, have 10 more years of experience to share. I was pretty sure I would be able to target and capture all that new "better" stuff. (And there were a few niggling mistakes I wanted to correct.)

I started gathering the latest books, research, and articles in the field. I compiled new additional activities to include. I spoke to colleagues about how they were using the book. And here's where the difficulties began. The sources were never ending. I speak all the time about the ever-increasing pace of our world, the need for flexibility and responsiveness, the diversity of our sources and colleagues and clients. But for some reason, I thought I would be able to gleen the texts, the studies, the examples that would be the perfect, comprehensive ones.

Not.

Every week a new article or study or TED talk that perfectly illustrated a point or supported an approach popped up. My notes and links grew and grew, but the writing had hardly begun. Finally, I gave up hope of being in any way comprehensive or "perfect", and gratefully realized the following:

1. The world is soo different from what it was a decade ago. I guess I should have know that, but the process of revisiting a work I created 11 years ago made me understand it viscerally. It is not only storytelling in business or applied improv that has exploded. It is creativity research, and best business practices and neurological research and cognitive and behavioral psychology that have uncovered vastly new ways of approaching human development and understanding. And our access to these new philosophies and approaches is unbounded. Every source and discover right at our fingertips. It is un-harness-able.

2. And it never stops. Even if I were able to capture just the right perfect examples and theories (which, of course is the goal) those examples and theories would be obsolete much sooner than I would like to think. We think of books as Permanent. In fact, they are just more unwieldy temporal expressions. Therefor, I realized, I must embrace the blog/e-book nature of the project with full force, using the book as a foundation, not a final whole, and relishing the ongoing opportunity to add, edit and converse about the content.

3. There is still plenty of relevant, useful stuff in that first edition. In some ways, as soon as I release myself from the pressure to do it all, I find I am having to change less than I expected. Though the examples and names and framing may change, the underlying philosophies and techniques hold up. This is a comfort. And the revision progresses.

So...

 - What are you working on that is more ephemeral than you may think (or wish) it were?
 - How can recognizing that you are creating something temporary help you create it?
 - What are the timeless gems that you need to highlight?

Till next time...
K

Embracing the Chance to Fail - 24 HR Theatre Festival Part IV

Best-selling author of "Tribes" and many other books, Seth Godin, entitled his blog post today, "How to Fail" (http://sethgodin.typepad.com/seths_blog/2011/04). He discusses the pitfalls of working too hard to avoid "failure" and offers some tips on setting yourself up to fail - which of course also allows you the opportunity to succeed at doing something big and worthwhile.
Improvisers, too, understand the concept of embracing, or "celebrating" failure as a path to succeeding at risky ventures, and our 24-Hr Theatre Festival reminded me anew how we can seize the adventure or play it safe.

At first glance, one could assume that simply producing or participating in the project constituted an embracing of the chance to fail. And I suppose that's fair enough. But it is also true that moment to moment, each individual had the opportunity to choose risk or safety - to raise the challenge bar or lower it. Here are some examples:

• The producers of the event could have cast only actors they knew. Or had auditions and included only the most experienced and "qualified." Instead they invited folks from schools and community theatres as well as well-known talent, mostly focusing on who expressed enthusiasm.
• They could have matched directors and playwrights based on what they knew of their styles and work histories. Instead they pulled names from a hat.
• The playwrights could, frankly, have drafted work before arriving that night - or taken an earlier project and tweaked it.
  
• The actors, when asked what they wanted to do, had choices to suggest something outside their normal comfort zone or within it.
• The designers could have set strict limits with us on what they would try. They instead embraced impossible challenges.

Some of the choices to risk failure rather than play it safe were visible and obvious. Others were subtle and private and may have never been detected one way or the other. And this is not to say that the riskier choices are always the better ones. I will tell you, though, that personally having done my best not to plan, not to have a safety net, to set the bar wildly high, the resulting experience was especially gratifying. Improvisers talk of going "into the cave". By this they mean, if there is danger present in a scene, move toward it, rather than away from it. That's where the drama (and hence the comedy) is, and of course, it is the dramatic that the audience yearns for. That is what makes the actor special - he goes toward those places that we mostly try to avoid in real life - the pain, the embarrassment, the choice to be vulnerable. As Tom Stoppard has the Player King say in "Rosencranz and Guildenstern" "Don't you see? We're Actors; we're the opposite of people." Although the life of an actor has plenty of failure inherent in it, it also has tremendous amounts of life!

So the next time you embark on an adventure ask yourself:How fully am I embracing this chance to risk?

• How much am I hedging my bet?
• What is a way I can stretch that may be invisible to others?
• What is a secret goal I can fulfill?
• What am I afraid of?
  
• How can I go there?