Request for Herocrats (RFH)

Photo Credit: Courtesy of Edith Valle, Daily Texan Staff

Photo Credit: Courtesy of Edith Valle, Daily Texan Staff

Are you a government employee who is fighting for a more just system?

Do you use your influence to do right by the community?

Do you collaborate with community members and organizations to advance equity?

If so, you are probably a Herocrat! Herocrats are government employees who collaborate with community members, co-workers, and others to advance justice. That often means they are changing policies, programs or the workplace culture to be more equitable. Herocrats are creative, bold and connected to the people they serve.

If this sounds like you, or someone you know, please read on and consider responding to this opportunity.

I put out this RFH to hear your stories and find out what lessons you’ve learned. This research is for a book that will inspire and empower government employees to be Herocrats in their own jobs. I’ll also be blogging about them on LinkedIn and on my website, www.bellwethermn.com.  

To be clear: Herocrats aren’t the top executives, nor do they always have a big, dramatic story to tell. They are simply people who care about justice and lead from where they are. Even if they aren’t in leadership positions, they use their influence in creative ways to benefit the community. For example, a Herocrat might be:

  • A maintenance worker at a transit agency who used buses as traveling job recruiters in low-income neighborhoods.

  • A budget analyst in city government who shared information in new, engaging ways, getting community members involved earlier and more deeply in the budget process.

  • A training supervisor who changed the department’s culture through courageous leadership, which helped them to serve their community better.  

These are just a few examples of Herocrats I’ve met. What’s your story?  

I hope to speak with at least 15 people and hear how they sparked a step toward justice. It could be a big policy change that affects thousands of people and millions of dollars or it could a modest change in practice that deeply impacted the lives of a handful of people. The scale is less important than the story.

I’ll choose the people to interview based on the following criteria:

  • Creativity. They have approached an old problem in new ways.

  • Justice. They are in their job to create a more just world.

  • Results. Their work created positive results (but note it does not need to be quantitatively “proven.”)

  • Story. They have stories that are inspiring, relatable and maybe even funny.

  • Diverse voices. People of Color and women are strongly encouraged.

  • Type of agency. They are from a variety of organizations: cities, counties, school districts, police departments, transit agencies, park districts, state agencies and others.

  • Geographic spread. They are from all corners of the U.S. and different sizes of communities.

There are inspiring people working for justice from all angles and using all methods, but Herocrats is focused on a specific type of person described above. We will not be including:

  • Elected officials or top executives.

  • People who have already gotten a lot of public attention and awards for their work.

  • People whose examples are more than 10 years old.

  • People who have pushed through changes unilaterally.

Self-nominations are encouraged, as are nominations of friends and colleagues. If you nominate someone else, please make sure they’re willing to participate. There is no monetary compensation, nor is there any guarantee that your story will be featured.

The nomination form is here.

The deadline is August 30, 2019. Please contact me with your questions: allison@bellwethermn.com.

Thank you!

Pain Points in Government Innovation

Photo by Aarón Blanco Tejedor 

One way or another, you’ve identified a shortcoming in a policy, program or practice at your agency, or in the larger system in which you operate. Perhaps you’ve been listening to community members, who have been saying it’s not working. Maybe the data show poor outcomes. Or maybe it’s just something that you’ve observed over time.

Every situation is unique. You may or may not be explicitly tasked with addressing the issue. The solution could be anything from a small tweak in how a service is delivered to a large policy change. In some cases, your colleagues may see and fully understand the issue, in others they may not.

The following is a list of potential problems that government innovators commonly face as they try to change the way we do business. Thankfully, it is unlikely that one person will experience all these pain points on the same project. The purpose of this list is to spark discussion and identify the most common –and difficult-- challenges.

Which ones vex you the most? What is no big deal? What’s missing from the list altogether? Please share your thoughts in the comments!

1.      Understanding how the system works so you can affect it.

2.      Establishing the authority to take on the issue.

3.      Finding the time to take on the issue.

4.      Connecting the effort with the people being served.

5.      Recognizing and dealing with bias (your own and others’).

6.      Communicating about the problem or potential solution to a broad audience.

7.      Getting the leadership to support and elevate the issue.

8.      Establishing a shared belief that better outcomes are possible.

9.      Building internal and external champions.

10.   Getting access to elected officials so they can champion the work.

11.   Getting financial support for planning and/or implementation.

12.   Keeping focus on the issue after leadership turnover.

13.   Getting the information you need amidst organizational silos and information hoarding.

14.   Creating and implementing a plan.

15.   Choosing from among a set of solutions.

16.   Collaborating with co-workers.

17.   Collaborating with community partners.

18.   Staying healthy and positive despite the slow, difficult work.

Herocrats in Action: Marcq Sung

Marcq Sung is the Director of Business Development for the City of Saint Paul. He shared his thoughts about what it means to be creative in his job, as well as what inspires and emboldens him.  

What do you do?

I work in business retention, expansion, and attraction space and am the conduit so that relationships get built quicker. The City’s resources are rather finite, but we know who might be more well-connected and then we can speak those connections to either remove barriers or have access to more opportunities.

You mentioned building relationships quicker. How does speed play into your job?

In government, speed is one thing that we are not good at. I've always looked at our roles as project managers or in economic development to be the lubricant to doing business in the City of Saint Paul. And most often what businesses face is this huge unknown of what the bureaucracy looks like or in certain times what the sector looks like. And we can say, "Here's some of the pitfalls that you want to try to avoid so you can get to your end goal much faster." And so we're like guardrails in bowling. It's like you can still do what you need to do, but we're just going to kind of keep you in your lane, and you're going to hit the pins faster than just going without any sort of guidance.

So you're providing speed, clarity and connections. Are you also trying to change the system in which you're working? Or are you working within the system to serve people the best that you can?

More than anything else, no matter what system you operate in, there are people who know how to operate within that system, because systems change takes a very long time. And I don't think an individual can do it. Like I don't believe in this Fountainhead-sort of person that rises above through his or her own genius and then just shapes the model of the future. That's romantic and foolish and Randian and I don't subscribe to that.

I think what you want to do is find other people who are interested in making change and connect with each other and then you can sort of figure it out how to get around the system or through the system or manipulate with the system to make it work for you because, let's not be too ideal and say that each step needs to be subscribed to in a different way.

What does creativity look like in your job?

Creativity in our job is knowing what all the barriers are and dancing around them. And we know the limitations of our tools better than most other folks. And so we help people navigate around those limitations. And at the same time, we share those limitations with those who can affect change and reiterate why they need to be changed so that we can do more good, better. And I think creativity is just like looking at our systems and saying, "Wow, that's just dumb. How do we just fix that or get around that?" And then we sort of kibbutz with each other and say, "Okay, I ran into that same issue. This is how I got around this. The bureaucratic process it is red tape. And so who has the sharpest scissors to get through it?

I mean there is a certain entrepreneurial element about the work that we do. For every “no” you encounter, you sort of persist and say, “well, how do you get around that? Like some people don't even ask bother to ask that question. It's like the seven whys. Keep asking why. Why is it that way?

What keeps you going? How do you stay in your creative problem-solving mode?

I think part of it is just working with great partners in the community. That is a blessing, and I don't think we would be as strong or as capable were it not for so many of the partners and the dedicated individuals in our community who do the work on a day-to-day basis. I think they get re-energized when they see people in government that say "yes" more than “no.” And then it re-emboldens them. And really they're the ones who execute the work and come up with the vision. And all we're trying to do is blunt the trauma of bureaucracy. Kudos to them. How can you not support that?

Does it take courage to practice the creativity you are describing?

I don't think there's much courage necessary in the work that we do. I tell new project managers that we’re placed in a unique opportunity where we have several supportive individuals in the work that we do. And because we're union, we can take calculated risk, not in an egregious or nefarious way. But in a way where we can try bold things that will help the people that we want to help – those who are marginalized and disaffected by the system. And there are measures to ensure that we don’t cause undue harm through corrective mechanisms.

But, I mean, let's use the luxury of being in these government positions to try bold, audacious things to advance and help the people that we work with. And we can connect with a bunch of people just by the sheer fact to say were with the City of Saint Paul, how can we collaborate and work together and find a solution set? And not to say that will succeed in every chance that we have, but, I don't think that's courageous at all. I think we're just afforded a lot of opportunity that it'd be silly to waste.

 

Herocrats in Action: Joy Marsh

 We need people to save the babies who are drowning, but also people to fix it so that fewer babies are falling in the water.

As Director of the Division of Race and Equity at the City of Minneapolis, Joy builds infrastructure to advance racial and transgender equity in the city’s policies, programs and practices. She and her team work with elected policy makers, staff, and residents to accomplish these objectives. She also oversees a federally funded grant program to address trauma related to systemic oppression in all its intersectional forms.

In our conversation, Joy reflects on the nature of her work and the personal qualities needed to be a system changer.   

What brings you to the work and keeps you there?

A lot of my motivation around the work is deeply personal, deeply tied to my own faith, and my own faith expression in the world, and what it means for me to live out my faith. I fundamentally believe that we are in a world where there are more than enough resources to go around, and to meet all of the needs of the people who are in the world, but that we also wrestle against systems that withhold resources from those who need it in order to benefit the few.

This is how I show up and model my commitment to that vision of abundance in the world. It means working to dismantle the systems of oppression that actively operate and recognizing that my own position is also intricately tied to that of the person next to me. I can't be my very best unless everyone is their very best.

I’m working to create a world that allows for everyone to be their best, so everyone has access to whatever it is that they need to live that life. I feel like that's part of why I'm here, part of the charge that I have as an individual in the world. So that's why I show up every day.

What does success look like? What would be different in Minneapolis?

I'm a very deeply systems person. I view community as more than just the residents that we serve, but also our staff and our elected leaders in the City of Minneapolis. So it's really important to be equipping those individuals with the tools that they need to think critically about the impacts of their decisions on Black, Indigenous, other POC, and Transgender people that we're serving. And I believe that if we're successful in this work, that the residents that we serve locally, and those that are connected to us both in the region and beyond, will benefit from this work.

I see success as seeing racial disparity trends being reversed. It’s also about marginalized communities having the ability to exercise greater agency to inform the ways in which governing systems are operating. So the decision making within City Hall is going to be more collaborative, and those who are most impacted by decisions are going to have a place in shaping those decisions.

What are you most proud of in your time at the City?

There's a lot that I'm excited about. I think ultimately the biggest point of pride that I have -- and I struggle with that word, pride -- is that when I started in this role in September 2015, I was the only person. There was no real vision in the city for this work, to include anybody other than me. And now, here we are, almost four years later, and not only do I have a team of people who are working in this work, but that structure has become normative inside of the city, and expected. And we even have other departments imagining what it would look like for them to also have dedicated staff to do the work.

That to me is a tremendous growth for the city to be in that place, and I believe that a lot of that is informed by the fact that we've been able to demonstrate the relevance and the importance of having staff. Just so few jurisdictions across the nations have a dedicated office with this amount of staff in it. That's exceptional.

What challenges do you face in this work?

Minneapolis shares the same sorts of challenges that any jurisdiction or organization faces when they're trying to be bold in advancing racial equity. There's always going to be intraction and people who are fearful of the change. There's going to be white fragility popping up. There are going to be individuals, even People of Color, who have internalized racism that they're dealing with, and all of those are going to create barriers to progress.

What I think is unique to Minneapolis, and can sometimes be problematic for us, is that we enjoy a significant reputation for being really progressive. I think that fundamentally, it's a well-earned reputation. But at the same time, it can lull people into a sense of complacency when it comes to being bold in our thinking. We have historically rested on that reputation and our belief that because our intentions are good we haven’t pushed as hard historically as we should to ensure our solutions actually reversed disparity trends. Since we are good people doing good work, the outcome is always good. This mindset is changing under our current administration that is pushing for metrics and outcomes tied to racial equity goals. This means thinking critically about race in the decision-making process and being willing to be held accountable, and hold ourselves accountable, to meet those goals.

It also means shifting the culture of the City so that staff who implement policies and execute the support processes do so with full awareness of how matters of bias can show up. It’s about deepening our language around anti-racist work entirely and creating the mechanisms by which we can all be successful in reaching the goals regardless of where we are situated in the enterprise.

Things don’t always land in the way that we want them to, despite all our good intentions. Applying tools like racial equity analysis have not historically been normative for the City. We don't have a good track record, necessarily, of doing that in any sort of enterprise fashion. Which isn’t to say that people don't think about race, or that people don't use racially disaggregated data. But getting us to the point that that's an enterprise value that we exercise all the time, that's the mindset shift. Through our strategic and racial equity planning process we are centering this type of analysis. Our administration is asking for it regularly from staff to support the decision-making process. That form of leadership is paving the way for the internal culture shift we need for long term systems change to happen.

What qualities does a public servant need to overcome these challenges?

Ultimately, I feel as though systems work is not the type of work for people who are looking for either immediate impact or seismic change. Systems work is slow and incremental, and there are lots of fits and starts, and lots of effort goes into moving the dial even the smallest possible amount. Systems change is for those who are committed to working for future generations. It's not going to be for me. I'm not going to eradicate racial inequity in the city of Minneapolis in my lifetime. I'm not going to eradicate transgender inequity in my lifetime.

That's just not possible, and it's not the expectation I should put on myself every single day. Nor is it the expectation that I should put on people that I'm working with. This change, while it's urgent, while the impact of not acting is literally life and death for so many people, it's also still going to be slow.

We have to continue to stick with it while also creating space for people to move at the pace in which they're going to move. I think it's really, really hard to be a systems-oriented person who's focused on future generations and still be able to live in a period of time where you literally see people dying in the streets. It doesn’t mean we don’t charge people with stretching or that we are complacent when fear stops movement, but it does mean we never lose sight that we are all on a journey. We have to find creative ways to come to a shared understanding and set of values upon which we can build a path forward. That takes time and the humility to know that we can’t get to the desired end state simply by moving everyone out of the way who you feel doesn’t believe what you believe. At our base, we are often more alike than we are different in what we value. When we start with those shared values, we can change the world.

We need to have people in our society who do both. We need people to save the babies who are drowning, but also people to fix it so that fewer babies are falling in the water. And attempting to do both is not sustainable. Trying to be the person who is saving babies from drowning -- within this government structure, which doesn't do direct service outside of the rare exception -- is going to be very, very frustrating. Because it's not a role, and there really isn't the space to do that in any long-term sustainable way. But if that's how you're oriented, this is a space for you to be super, super frustrated every single day.

It’s particularly difficult for people who are trying to dismantle these systems, while also experiencing daily the impact of inequitable systems. That's a very, very, very difficult place to stay in, and it can be overwhelming, and it can be traumatizing when you see people who look like you being impacted. So it’s important to have a pretty intense and deliberate practice around self-care. I don't know if this is a sustainable place for Black, Indigenous, or People of Color to really stay in for the long term.

You may have to cycle out. You may have to cycle out to a place of doing just something entirely different. Like walking dogs for a living, whatever it is. Or shifting to direct service, or something to feel like you're doing something that's more tangible for today. But ultimately, being aware of where you are in your season, and what work you can do, is important.

And be honest with yourself. Stop and pause and say, "Is this still the space for me?" Because again, these are not your problems independently to solve, and just because you step away from doing systems-based work doesn't mean that nothing else happens. It doesn't mean that somehow, you've given up. There are many expressions and approaches to how we dismantle systemic oppression and by stepping aside, you are also making room for someone else to step up and bring their perspective to the equation. We all have a responsibility, I feel, collectively, to address these issues, in whatever way we address them. But sometimes it’s my turn to be at bat, and sometimes it’s my time to sit on the bench. And that's really okay.

Last question: what’s your superpower?

I think my superpower is the fact that I’ve led large scale systems change work in a lot of different types of organizations – private, public and non-profit. I’ve managed projects that impact people across continents and those that only impact small departments. This experience allows me to understand a lot of different motivations people bring to challenges. It has also taught me immense patience and just how much I need to rely on other people to make any sort of meaningful change happen. I’m old enough and discerning enough to know what work is my work to get done and what isn’t. I’m past the point in my career where I’m swinging at windmills and I’m able to be more strategic in my approach. I’ve learned the importance of developing the leadership of others because I also know this fight continues on long after me.

Shall We Mix Government and Pleasure?

I’m currently reading Adrienne Maree Brown’s new book, Pleasure Activism: The Politics of Feeling Good and thinking about how it applies to government. Although her core audience is people pushing for change from the outside of the system, I think her book has lessons for public sector changemakers as well.

As in Brown’s earlier book, Emergent Strategy, Pleasure Activism explores the connections between individual and societal change; her mantra is “transform yourself to transform the world.” Her new book focuses on how pleasure – defined broadly as “a feeling of happy satisfaction and enjoyment” – is a measure of freedom and a tool for social change. She describes pleasure activism as “the work we do to reclaim our whole, happy and satisfiable selves from the impacts, delusions, and limitations of oppression and/or supremacy.”

So what lessons can people working in government take from it? It’s a thick volume and there’s a lot to unpack, so I will start in the place where Brown herself begin thinking about the relationships between pleasure and change: her early career experiences in community organizing. As she grew her career, she observed:

“There’s this concept of suffering central to so many of us as whatever, activists, organizers, anyone trying to change the world . . . so much of how we get pulled into community and kept in community is a solidarity built around our suffering. . . which is not liberatory. That’s just not it. It’s not us. The suffering is not what we’re called to attend to. That’s happening all the time. What does it mean to transcend it and make it so that: I can’t settle for this? This has nothing to do with me. This doesn’t have anything to do with us. I think about that a lot: what does it take to actually shift the feel of organizing? The way we feel our existence? We’re not meant to suffer alone. We’re meant to experience pleasure and togetherness.” (page 48)

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The public sector version of suffering comes in a different flavor, which varies across agencies, geographies and levels of government. But it is no less stifling. In general, public sector culture often says that as government employees, we can’t have too much fun or take too much pleasure in our jobs because we are using public resources. If we shine too bright, if we are too colorful or creative, someone might notice and lodge a complaint – or worse, seek to cut the budget! We should just do the job, robotically, efficiently and preferably in a gray cubicle.

Although I’m relatively new to the Adrienne Maree Brown fan club, I have rejected anti-pleasure culture for a long time. One story shows what has happened when I’ve challenged it.

In a previous job I led the regional transit agency’s equity team, a group of bus drivers, financial analysts, janitors, managers and others who were charged with leading the agency towards a more equitable future for its employees, customers and community. The team, the second of its kind, had come together a few months prior. The members had a wide range of backgrounds, vast lived experiences with racism and a full understanding of how it operates in our institutions. But we lacked shared language and consensus on our role in leading change, and tensions had surfaced between the members. It was clear that we needed to spend some time learning together, having fun and building a shared vision for our work.

Prior to our weekly meeting I came across an advertisement for a new photographic exhibit at a local art museum that “connected the protest movements of the 20th century to today’s political, social, and racial conflicts.” I saw this as one small opportunity to bring the team closer together while learning about the history of movements that, like our team, fought against white supremacy and other forms of oppression.

I announced that our next meeting would be at the art museum instead of our regular location. After viewing the exhibit we would then discuss its relevance to our agency and community. Admission to the museum was free, and it is on a bus line, so field trip would be no cost to the agency. I let my supervisor know of our plans, asking if he had any questions or concerns. I also shared the information with a group of senior leaders charged with guiding and supporting our team.

No one directly told us that we could not meet at the museum – that would be un-Minnesotan! Instead, through a series of meetings, microaggressions and second-hand comments, we faced pressure to call it off. Although a small handful of managers supported the trip, the majority opinion was this: with the legislature in session, it’s not worth the risk. With our agency in a battle for its financial future, what if the news media found out that a group of employees was going to an ART MUSEUM? To learn about BLACK LIVES MATTER? Clearly this would be exactly the fodder that the anti-transit lobby would need to slash the budget.

But digging deeper, under this concern were implicit messages: “Art is trivial and has little place in the business of government.” “Learning and team building are not essential to our jobs.” “Fun and pleasure do not belong here.” And, “Advancing racial equity will have to wait. It’s too risky.

I spent several days running scenarios in my head and consulting with others. At times, the paranoia was contagious, and I began to believe that a team-building field trip to experience art could undermine the agency’s success. Ultimately we went ahead. As we rode the bus to the museum that day, we checked out the other passengers, hoping they weren’t reporters. As silly as this sounds, it demonstrates how deeply the explicit and implicit messages had affected our team’s collective psyche.

We made it to the museum, learned a ton, had fun, got inspired, and bonded as a team. We had an insightful discussion about our team’s role in advancing racial equity. Afterwards we even went out to lunch together – on our own dime, of course.

Certainly this story has as much to do with white supremacy culture as it does with an anti-pleasure mindset. But if I read Brown correctly, I believe she would say the two go hand in hand: Just as white supremacy culture discourages many of us from experiencing pleasure, pleasure can set us free from it.

And while this story focuses on the unspoken pleasure prohibition for government employees, let’s not miss the bigger issue: that the implications of this type of thinking are even more detrimental for the general public. It results in depressing public waiting rooms that you want to avoid at all costs. It accepts mediocre customer service and standards of cleanliness in facilities. And it decides that some communities are worthy of certain amenities – free WiFi, food and childcare at meetings, clean parks --while others are not. 

In government and elsewhere, rationales for greater equity (and pleasure for all) are often rooted in “the business case.” Investments in art programs in low-income neighborhoods create economic development and higher tax revenues. Employee wellness programs such as yoga improve productivity. These functional arguments are important, defensible, and play important roles in advancing an equity agenda. But what draws me to Pleasure Activism is that Brown’s perspective is based on justice, not capitalism.

So following her lead, I wonder: how could we shift the way it feels to work in government, and to access government services? What if those experiences were actually pleasurable? What ripple effects might that have in our communities and in our world?

The biggest barrier to this shift is a false dichotomy that pits responsible use of taxpayer dollars against pleasure. To be sure, government must be a careful steward of public resources. And, it is possible to do this while also creating a pleasurable environment. I’m not suggesting that government should replicate corporate levels of luxury in its offices and waiting rooms. It’s not even about the perks – although I never mind free coffee. Much more than money, pleasure activism requires a mindset change. It says that fair pay and full benefits are not enough; working for government can and should be enjoyable. And residents should not only receive the services they are entitled to, but they should have a feeling of happy satisfaction and enjoyment while accessing them.

How would your life change if this were true?