Making a website: The 'Deep Dive'

This is the second of two blogs about making a website to celebrate the launch of KellowLearning.com. The first blog is called ‘I made a website www.kellowlearning.com'

It took me more than six months to write the copy for my website KellowLearning.com. I don’t regret the time I spent because the act of writing about leadership and learning helped me to find out what I think. I also found out what I remember from the past two decades of working as a trainer, what I have learned, what I have achieved, what I care about most deeply, and what gives me joy. Writing about what I do, day after day, was a ‘deep dive’ into who I am, and what I do. And the benefit of the ‘deep dive’ is that I was able to make a far better website than I could ever have imagined. And, what’s more, I now know what to say when people ask me ‘what do you do?’.

Here is what I discovered, and how it has helped me to communicate what I do.

I wrote to find out what I think. How do I define leadership? What are the game-defining factors affecting sustainability leaders today?

The Benefit: Clients need to know that I know what I am talking about.

I wrote to find out what I do. What is my approach to learning and change, and what is special about what I do?

The Benefit: Clients need to know what I do, and why I am the right person to work with them / their organisation.

I wrote to find out what I remember. What do I still remember from two decades of delivering programme and projects? Why have some people and events stuck in my memory, and not others?

The Benefit: Identifying my most powerful learning experiences has helped me to connect with what I do well as a trainer, and to remind myself how I can re-create transformational learning experiences for others.

I wrote to find out what I have learned. What are my key learnings from designing and delivering training for different groups of people living and working in different contexts?

The Benefit: I can clearly describe my approach to training, facilitation and coaching, the principles I follow, and what informs the choices I make in the interest of helping people to have the best possible learning experience.

I wrote to find out what I have achieved. Recalling the people and the projects that I have worked on since the early 1990s, I became aware that the whole looks greater than the sum of the parts.

The Benefit: I am quietly proud of my achievements, and this gives me the confidence to be comfortable with risk and uncertainty. 

I wrote to find out what I care about most deeply. What are the most precious moments and experiences that I have shared with the people I have met, and why?

The Benefit: Telling stories about what I do, and why I do it, helps me to communicate what it is like to work with me.

I wrote to find out what makes me joyful How do I focus on what makes me healthy, happy, creative, and inspired? How can anyone working in a helping or enabling role if they do not look after themselves?

The Benefit: Paying attention to my physical and mental health helps me to be at my best when working with others.

Pathways to a sustainability career

Young people doing it for themselves

I’m collaborating on a leadership development workshop for recent graduates who are looking for their first job in sustainability. It took me twenty years to realise I wanted to work sustainability. Now, twenty years later, I’m piloting a workshop to help recent graduates find a quicker route into a sustainability career.

How a little philosophy can help you work in sustainability

I have a hunch that there are a lot of graduates like me, who took degrees in subjects like Fine Art, Philosophy, and French, and want to work in sustainability. And like me, when I was their age, they don’t know what kind of green jobs there are, where to look for them, or how to get through the recruitment process.

Mid-career, multi-lingual and multi-talented: the new global leaders

What if young people on Facebook knew how to create their own professional networks? What would happen if they used their power to help each other to grow and develop, the same way folks who are on Linkedin do? I was having a coffee with one of my students recently. Julia is mid-career, multi-lingual, and multi-talented. She is part of the Linkedin generation: people who can do business in at least three languages, and are accustomed to changing the company they work for, and the country where they live, about every three years. She met a bunch of guys on a sustainability leadership programme, and they stayed in touch. Why? Well, first of all, they like each other. They have become close friends, and they have fun together. The glue that keeps them together is one part shared values, and two parts a common desire to make a difference to world. They understand the need to live and work more sustainably, and they are excited about the opportunities, locally and globally, to change the way we do things.

Networks are good for individuals and organisations

They also help each other with their careers. The Linkedin generation do business together. The fact that they know each, and trust each other, is making it easier for corporations to talk to corporations. Nadia and her network are working together to measure and reduce corporate carbon footprints, locally and globally. None of this would be happening to the same degree, if Nadia and her friends had not met on a leadership programme, and formed a network that works for them at both a personal and professional level. If all networks worked like this, might we all become better connected, more creative, happy and contented?

Can’t young people get jobs through Facebook?

Why can't the pre-Linkedin generation have the same opportunities to motivate and support each other?  That’s what Facebook is for, I hear you say. Yes, and no. Facebook works very well as a means to share photos and stay connected with friends and family all over the world. It’s good for launching projects, promoting causes. I still think there is a need for something that allows you to do more than ‘Like’ what your friend had for breakfast. And I detect a kind of snobbery about Facebook, which means it may not be the best place to look for a job. Quite the opposite in fact. Employers use Facebook to eliminate job applicants.

The power of collaboration

This is why I am collaborating with friends on a leadership workshop for recent graduates. It’s a collaborative event because I believe it is important to walk the talk. I want to show the participants how a highly motivated team working together can create a transformational learning experience.

We want to share what we have learned from working in different areas of sustainability. We want to showcase different pathways to a sustainability career, and demonstrate how to build a self-sustaining network that will benefit participants, personally and professionally. Above all, we want the participants to leave ‘Pathways to a Sustainability Career’ feeling confident about their choice of career, and with an increased awareness of how to network and support each other in the future.

How to choose a name for your website

Open the champagne. It's a website!

What shall I call it?

No, I have not had a baby. The only thing I am going to give birth to, soon, is a website about me. And I am trying to choose a catchy name for the eponymous website that will tell the world what a wonderful trainer / facilitator / coach I am. You see the problem? I have now used three words to describe myself, and they don’t explain what I do, or why you should read any more about me.

A catchy strapline

My name is OK. There are not too many Edward Kellows in the world competing for the attention of a search engine. What I need is an elegant strapline that will tell people how creative, flexible and fun I am to work with: how I always deliver on outcomes; and how I help people to discover stuff that they never dreamt they could do, and later helped them to transform their company / relationship / life. And, despite, or because of, my success, I am totally authentic and trustworthy, thanks to my deeply held, and hard won personal values. I sound so good, I think I might even hire myself.

What do I do in one sentence?

How do I explain what I do in one sentence? I google a few trainers and coaches I know, and they use words like facilitate, learning, and change. That’s what I do! I facilitate learning and change. So I think I should definitely say ‘facilitate’ because ‘facilitate’ is a verb, and a verb spells action, and what all my potential clients want is someone who can make change happen.

“Words, words, words” Hamlet II.2

But wait a moment. Everyone who works in learning and development facilitates change. I need to tell people what’s special about me. So, I am creative, and I am fun. I give people space to work things out for themselves. And the reason I do that, is I genuinely believe that change only happens when people get comfortable with who they are, rather than trying to be someone else. I learned that from Mr. Beisser on my coaching course, though I think I knew it already. And the reason why I think THAT is important is that I believe change will only be sustainable if people are given a chance to work things out for themselves. When they do that people tend to take more responsibility for their actions, see?

 Edward Kellow: Fifty Shades of Learning (It was late, I was desperate, OK?)

So I invent some straplines that I think explain what I do, while hinting at my creativity, energy and dynamism:

Edward Kellow: making learning happen (dynamic!)

Edward Kellow: making it happen (sexier, but what do I make happen?)

Collaborative Learning: Steps towards sustainable futures (Too much ‘togetherness’?)

Curious Futures: facilitating learning and leadership (hmm, I like this one)

Collaborative Futures: facilitating sustainable futures (This has a ‘does what is says on the tin’ feel)

Edward Kellow: Leaning into learning (oh dear, no).

And I google them, and each and every one is taken by somebody else. Even ‘Curious Futures’, which is the one I like most, because I have done a lot of thinking about the value of curiosity (see my blog!), and I want my strapline to ‘Lean in’ to the future. Finally, when ‘Fifty Shades of Learning’ pops into my head, I give up.

What about “Edward Kellow: facilitating collaborative learning and leadership”?

Maybe it’s not so bad after all.

Becoming a coach: me and Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme

I’ve got a permanent sugar rush of thoughts and feelings about coaching and training. I’m like Monsieur Jourdain in Moliere’s ‘Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme’, who discovered that, all his life, he had been speaking prose without knowing it.

Fifteen months ago, I started a serious executive coaching programme. Two days ago, I attended a final assessment day. Soon I will find out whether or not I have met the standard.

To get to the assessment day, I had to notch up one induction day, four residential training modules, four tutorials, dozens of practice coaching sessions, much reading of coaching texts and articles, four required learning logs, two unplanned blogs, and one theoretical essay. Having gone through all of that, it’s no wonder I am having a rush of thoughts and feelings about learning and coaching. 

What lies beneath my training approach

I’ve made a connection between Gestalt based coaching and my approach to delivering leadership training. Like Monsieur Jourdain, I have discovered that, all my life, I have been using Gestalt methodology to underpin my training courses, without knowing it. 

Instinctively, I design training programmes as participative learning journeys. I encourage learners to:

• listen and observe
• notice what they are thinking and feeling
• gather and make sense of data
• keep an open mind, and
• work together to make sense of challenges and dilemmas.

From a Gestalt coaching perspective, this is about being and learning in the moment, and noticing patterns and connections. It’s about raising awareness of real needs, and mobilising energy towards appropriate action. 

I’m still processing what I have learned. I can’t wait to review my training practice through a Gestalt lens. Meanwhile, here is the 'before' and 'after' of my approach to coaching.

How I coached before the course	How I coach now
Took responsibility for solving the client’s dilemmas and problems	I work in partnership with the client
Analysed what the client was telling me	Observe, reflect, summarise
Tried very hard to be nice	Not afraid to challenge appropriately
Asked lots of unhelpful (dissonant) questions	Comfortable with silence
Talked about my experiences	Appropriately disclose if the client is interested in hearing about my experience
Believed I must have the answers	Not afraid to say ‘I don’t know what to do with this’
Pushed the client into action	Create space for the client to discover what they want to do
Made assumptions about what the client was telling me	Form working hypotheses AND keep an open mind
Thought ahead constantly which affected my ability to be present	Stay fully present with the client
Relied on listening and questioning	Invite the client to experiment Gestalt and Cognitive Behavioural methodologies
Felt awkward contracting and closing	Am more confident when contracting and helping client to identify what they have learned

It’s been quite a journey. I really must apologise to all my friends who volunteered to be coached by me, when I didn’t know what I know now.

16 March 2013

Thanks for reading my blog. If you liked this page, you might like to check out my business website which has more content on leadership and learning.

www.kellowlearning.com

A time and a place for learning

Time

My Dad used to say “There’s a time and a place for everything”. Usually, this meant that I was doing something that annoyed him. Time and place are critical factors in the kind of learning programmes that I design. I’ve always been interested in time and the impact that it has on people. When I was a student I was hooked on Anthony Powell’s ‘Dance to the Music of Time’, which follows the lives of a group of people who are changed by time. I also read Proust’s ‘A la Recherche du Temps Perdu’ in its entirety. I’m still not sure what ‘A la Recherche’ is about. But it seems to me that Proust is trying to make sense of what he has learned about himself, and the people he has known. He takes his time to explore the meaning of the loving, the dreaming and the cheating that preoccupy him. And learning, to me, is making sense of everything around us.

Place

I’ve always been sensitive to my surroundings, though you might not think so if you could see the state of my room. I work best if I feel comfortable, and I feel comfortable if I have natural light, order, and quiet. Noel Coward’s ‘Room with a view' will do me nicely. Mallarmé’s vision of ‘Luxe, calme et beauté’ would be an upgrade too far. If I had all that, I would do no work at all, because I would be too comfortable. As a trainer, I know that the look and feel of the working space can make the difference between memorable and forgettable learning experiences. This is true whether the learning takes place face-to-face or virtually. As Steve Jobs said, people do judge books by the cover.

Learning and performing

For me, experiential learning is a lot like performance art. Any learning experience requires the trainer to be set designer, choreographer and conductor. Natural light, space to move and a constant temperature of about 20 degrees create the optimum conditions for learning, creativity and strong growth. Dark, cold and cramped spaces do not work. And timing, as the best comedians know, is everything. Too much time, and people get bored. Too little time, and people get frustrated. The timing of the day matters, too. Too early, and people are not ready to learn. Too late, and people are too tired to engage. I think people learn best when they feel comfortable and challenged. And there is a tension between feeling comfortable, and feeling challenged, which a trainer can regulate by managing the time.

Five Days Learning in Bulgaria

Last week in Sofia, I worked with a team of LEAD Associates on a leadership challenge to do with energy in Bulgaria. In addition to all the people we met, time and place were key players. We apportioned time to different activities: five minutes for each person to talk without interruption in the learning trios, six minutes 40 seconds for a Pecha Kucha, 30 minutes for each conversation at the World Café, one hour for meals.  Longer for drinking coffee, tea and wine, and less time for sleep. The compact nature of the city centre meant that we could walk almost everywhere. From the cosy Hotel Diter, we moved effortlessly from one space to another. Our base in the hotel garden was airy, and the sounds of the city were energising. We used the streets for intimate conversations in pairs. We performed in semi-public spaces like the British Council, The Ideas Factory and the Tea House, meeting local people and sharing what we had learned. During the short intervals between these performances, we used the outdoor cafes in the squares to download information, and plan for the next meeting. We continuously formed, performed, and then moved on. What I learned is that good timing, and imaginative use of space were key to helping our learners make sense of the complex energy challenges and opportunities in Bulgaria. And what I will try to remember is that groups that take responsibility for managing their time, and can adapt to different environments, are more resilient, and have better learning experiences.

As my Dad used to say, ‘There is a time and a place for everything’.

Learning from Barbara

Barbara, Daddy and friends Photo: Nadejda Loumbeva

The quick read

In April 2012, LEAD Europe Cohort 16 Fellows and friends set up home in a villa on the edge of Sintra, an historic town near Lisbon. Matias, our host, provided the local knowledge and took us to beautiful places. We lived in an eco-friendly, creatively decorated hostel, with a huge marble kitchen table at its heart. Everything about the building encouraged communal living, including the toilets that had no doors. We had no agenda, and no formal roles and responsibilities. Things emerged. No-one got food poisoning. We are planning the next reunion already.

Leadership and decision-making

In Sintra we talked, cooked, ate, drank, and walked. We visited palaces and gardens. Frank told us about the history of Sintra. Pedro sang for us at supper. Our biggest challenge was decision-making. Matias, our leader by common consent, tried to help us make up our minds. One evening when his wife called to ask when we were going to eat, Matias said “Things are taking a little time. When you have 20 people with 20 opinions...” In Sintra, which is a small town and easy to navigate, we acted as if we had some intention to live independently. Some adventurous souls even went to a restaurant without any help. When we decamped to Lisbon, however, we became entirely dependent on Matias. “What can we see? How do we get there? How do we pay for the tram?”

Accepting oneself and other people

The person who made the biggest impression on me was Ralph’s daughter, Barbara, aged 3. Barbara showed me, aged 50 something, how to be. Barbara shared her bedroom with 5 snoring men most graciously. She got on with her sleeping, waking, washing, and dressing routines without a trace of self consciousness. The men complained about the snoring, the beds, and the toilets. I worried about fitting in, about being older in a younger group, and most of all I worried about getting caught in the toilet with no doors. Barbara just was.

Networking

Barbara navigated our cosmopolitan community with aplomb. She spoke fluent German and French. While Barbara was comfortable with adults she hardly knew, she was obviously delighted when Matias’ young daughter appeared. “C’est  ma copine”, she announced. When Barbara was pleased with me, she licked my hand. When I was annoying, Barbara gave me imaginary ‘coups de marteau’.

Gender Neutral

Barbara insisted on keeping her rag and her doll with her at all times. When I asked Barbara if her doll was a girl or a boy she told me firmly that it was neither a girl nor a boy. “C’est un bebe”.

Giving and receiving help

Barbara’s biggest day was on the Sunday when we went to the beach. Barbara had two falls, one on the cliff path when she got a bruise, and one in the sea when a wave knocked her over. When a child falls and cries, I freeze. I don’t know what to do or how to help. When she fell, Barbara was shocked and tearful. She had signs of bruising on her knee. After a while she recovered.

Barbara’s second fall happened when we were paddling in the sea. The waves seemed quite gentle. A few of us were knee deep in the water. Barbara was somewhere behind us. Then a larger wave came. I turned and Barbara was floating face down in the water. She didn’t get up. It took longer than I expected for 3 or 4 of us to run through the waves to pick her out of the water. 

Barbara’s clothes were soaked. Fortunately Ralph, her father, was carrying a complete change in his bag. One minute I was thinking how quickly a family outing could turn into something else. The next I was watching a protective team of adults getting Barbara out of her wet things, drying her, and dressing her. Barbara accepted the towelling and changing exercise as if she were Marilyn Monroe between takes. Her face was beatific. When Barbara fell into the water, we didn’t have any difficulty making decisions. We acted as a team.

Learning from Barbara

What I learned from Barbara was how to be myself in a group where previously I had been a leader. Being a leader can be a good way to hide. In Sintra, I was part of the group, and I felt OK. We were living in a different place, and people took on different roles. Cooks, food shoppers, and dish washers were self selecting. We managed the transition from single rooms in catered accommodation to shared rooms and self catering. We found purpose in being together without a schedule. I slept better in a room with 4 snoring men and a 3 year old girl than I do by myself at home. Barbara showed me how to cope with a toilet with no doors.