Relearning Learning

I was proud of that first uniform.  Neatly attired from head to toe in navy blue with gold trim, topped by a baseball cap with the scout insignia, I was an optimistic eight year old cub setting foot in the neighborhood on a bright, sunny Saturday determined to lead my pack in thin mint sales.  Early that morning the neighbors on the block who knew the McCarley boy at least acted more than happy to purchase a box or two which could be had for four bits or so back in those days.  As I gravitated farther from the safe and known vicinity of the 2300 block of Stanley Ave, however, successful sales of the mints began to...thin. The kinder rejections ranged from, "I promised my grandson I would buy from him this year," to "I already got some from a nice young man who came calling earlier."  Although cars were parked in driveways next to other houses and a passing glance revealed lights and televisions were on, several from those residences did not bother coming to the do

This past week marked the tenth rendition of my annual bike trek across the state of Iowa as provided by the Register's Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa (RAGBRAI).  Each of these journeys have given opportunity to enjoy the heartland of America up close through farm fields, grain elevators, small towns, and the people of this surprisingly diverse region.  The ride, which some might describe as "summer camp for adults," also provides "decompression" time, a chance to interact with fellow cyclists, have contemplative time alone, and visit somewhat obscure and out of the way landmarks.  Most importantly while I always find myself returning home physically exhausted and sun baked, mentally there is somewhat of a recharge, refocus, rejuvenation. The mind-body connection is remarkable.  If you are like me, I can recall days where I would sit at the desk for prolonged periods dumbfounded for the right words for a report or an appropriate solution or recommendation

We all crave acceptance.  Even more so we yearn for understanding and respect.   Likewise, whether we are supervisors or employees, spouses or parents, caretakers or dependents, most of us dread delivering bad news.  One approach that I've always relied on as a "go to" is to communicate rejection or denial without the use of a negative word.  That's right, no negative words!  Excluded from the lexicon are won't, don't, can't, no, but, is not, sorry, etc.  Some would say this is not possible. Although I've found favor in my career to have enjoyed gainful employment with several fine organizations I admit that for every acceptance there have been dozens, if not hundreds of rejections. The standard "reject" letter, if even provided, would often go something like: Dear Mr. McCarley: We have received your application for employment with our company.   Unfortunately you are not  one of the finalists for the position.  Your application will

From what I read on his application he was a recent parolee having spent at least seven years in the pen for armed robbery.  The initial conversation was positive, he was contrite and repentant for his past offences.  It was a surprise...and an alarm, when he again appeared in my office a few days later early in the evening after all other workers had gone home for the day.  His was a tangled eye look and disheveled pleading for, demanding a job.  Oh, and I should add that he proceeded to light up a marijuana joint in midstream discussion as well.   My classes in management had not prepared me at all for these encounters.  The first "real" job out of college was with what could best be described as a struggling, rag tag manufacturing operation--a machine shop area with the mist of cutting oil wafting through the air, another shop where forged metals were annealed (heat treated), and a final assembly and shipping department.  Douglas McGregor's Theor