Workswell Note #3

Prepared, not Heroic 

Hi Friends,

We’re wrapping up the First Seating of The Chair Project this week. Whenever I close out an experiment, I find myself asking the usual questions: What worked? What didn’t? What surprised me? What’s next?

But this time I’ve been thinking about something bigger.

How much of the human condition boils down to caring deeply about outcomes that are only partly within our control?

A lot of adulting seems to involve finding ourselves in situations where we’re “in charge” of unmanageable/unreasonable situations. We may imagine ourselves acting heroically in the movies we play in our head, but it almost always turns out that taking responsibility involves working well with other humans and being at least somewhat prepared.

Heroism, such as it is, turns out to be kind of mind-blowingly un-sexy.  Also, maybe a bit of a myth. At least to the extent that willingness is underestimated as a key ingredient.

Responsibility without full control
Governance is structured around this truth. Boards are shared by design. Authority is distributed. No one gets to steer alone. And yet we often talk as if the goal is efficiency: fewer voices, faster decisions, less friction.

But shared responsibility creates friction. It slows things down. It requires conversation and compromise. It can feel inefficient.

We’re living in a moment that glorifies speed and certainty. But responsibility is relational. And relational work is rarely efficient.

Almost six years ago, my father-in-law had a heart attack while out on a walk. He was saved by a middle school science teacher who happened to be running by - not even on his usual route. He knew CPR. He acted. EMTs arrived. And while the doctor said that less than 5% with his particular blockage generally survive, my father-in-law staged a full recovery.

It still feels like a miracle.

But what really happened is simpler: a person who was prepared stepped in.

Every January since, I’ve renewed my Red Cross CPR/First Aid training. Not out of obligation, but more in an “oh, this is how it works” way. Someone else took responsibility for someone I love. That’s how the chain continues. (Though I will admit that the thought of actually needing to use my CPR training mildly terrifies me.)

Chairs (and the quiet kind of leadership)
The gift of the Chair Project so far has been spending time with people who have said yes to an extra layer of responsibility. No one forced them. None of them are chasing glory. At some point, they just had their own version of “Oh. This is how it works.”

I was having coffee with my friend Paul Jansen from UC Berkeley Haas the other day and Paul, who studies governance, shared something that really stopped me: he believes that nonprofit boards should aspire to have at least 25% of members imagining themselves as future Board Chairs.

His logic is simple. When people see themselves as potential leaders, they behave differently. They don’t sit back waiting to be directed. They lean in.
It may be aspirational. But what would shift if boards named that expectation out loud?
What would change if more of us assumed responsibility for the health of the systems we’re part of; not as heroes, but as steady partners?

The Gift of a Hard Conversation
A few weeks ago I facilitated a staff conversation for a client about their external partners. On the surface, it was about partnerships. Underneath, it was about values.

Some staff were feeling uneasy about the ethics of a few partnerships - worried about the possibility of greenwashing and wanting more clarity about how partners were selected. They weren’t naïve about the organization’s financial realities. They understood that leadership has to make hard decisions to keep the work funded. But they wanted to understand the process. They wanted to know where their voices fit.

What was striking wasn’t the tension. It was the tone.

The conversation was civil. Generous. Thoughtful. Staff acknowledged the constraints leadership operates under. Leadership listened without defensiveness. They were transparent about trade-offs and open to exploring ways to involve staff in future decisions.

No heroes. No villains. Just humans trying to steward something they care about.
It reminded me that responsibility gets complicated precisely when values and viability intersect. Someone has to weigh mission against money. Someone has to protect integrity. And rarely is that weight carried by one person alone. Or, at least, it shouldn’t be.

When responsibility is shared, and the process is visible, trust has a chance to grow.

A couple of invitations
In the midst of all this reflecting on responsibility, I’m preparing to moderate a conversation at the Commonwealth Club with my friend and Holocaust survivor Marion Fredman about her nonfiction children’s book A Time to Hide. Marion has been a source of counsel and love since the early days of launching the Museum of Children’s Art (mocha), and I’m genuinely honored to share the stage with her. Her family’s story is one of endurance and moral courage - not cinematic heroism, but ordinary people making hard, relational decisions in impossible circumstances. If you’re interested in attending - either virtually or in person, the link to tickets can be found here.

And one more invitation, of a very different sort: many of you know I host a monthly gathering informally known as Community (Not Necessarily) Lunch. In April, instead of conversation over sandwiches, we’ll be running a live simulation using the Operation Outbreak platform at the Playworks offices in Oakland on April 1 at noon. It’ll be hands-on, slightly chaotic, and a fascinating way to experience how systems behave under pressure. If you’re curious and want to join, just send me an email.

For a little inspiration on the power of gathering with others, check out Ezra Klein’s interview with Priya Parker. I really appreciate the idea that the antidote to authoritarianism is connection.

What’s Next
In March we’ll be launching the next iteration of the Chair Project: a three-month pilot supporting pairs of Chairs. A bit of structure. Monthly prompts. A commitment to reflect. Nothing heavy, just steady practice. #ChairPair

My guess is that the hardest part won’t be the structure - it will be finding a partner. While we’re not going to be matchmaking, we will be encouraging/supporting folks in reaching out through their networks (asking their EDs for possible referrals, posting on their LinkedIn pages, posting on the Workswell LinkedIn page). Keep an eye out for the launch announcement - as is my nature, I’m guardedly optimistic.

That’s what I’ve got for this edition of the Workswell Notes - thanks for reading.
#jill
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P.S. There’s no metaphor here - I just think everyone should see Victor Wembanyama casually kicking basketballs out of the net. It’s astonishing. Seriously, he’s barely jumping.
P.P.S. Yes, of course there are new t-shirts (including multiple versions of The Chair Project tee). Check them out here.