Michele Woodward

Powerful Coaching. Powerful Results.

brene brown

Worth Failing For

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Workshop and seminar leaders, Little League coaches and life coaches, parents and priests. What do they possibly have in common?

My guess is that at some point or the other they may have asked someone, “What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail?”

They ask this question in an attempt to figure out goals and dreams. To understand where someone might be holding themselves back out of fear of failing. To inspire.

All well and good.

The amazing, inspiring Brené Brown, though, asks the question in a powerful and different way.

She asks, “What’s worth failing for?”

I mean, really. Brené nails it. That is one piercing question.

So, let me ask you: What are you willing to stand up for? What are you willing to use your voice for?

Regardless of the consequences?

What do you love enough to risk everything for?

I ask it that way because I know myself and if my kids were ever threatened, I’d put myself between them and harm’s way in a nanosecond.

It comes down to this, then: Love is absolutely worth failing for.

Because I love so deeply and passionately about what’s happening in our world, I am conscious that I must my voice to say the things that need to be said. I am willing to put myself out there even if people disagree with me.

(And as an aside – disagreement doesn’t need to mean the end of a relationship. In fact, disagreement can bring people closer together as they grow to understand each other. Remember that next time you get in a Twitter war, will you?)

You may find this hard to believe, but there was a time in my life when I swallowed my words because I felt as though there was going to be a tough consequence if I spoke up. It was only after I was clear of this situation that I realized the toll silence took on me. And I felt the relief and coming-home-ness which came from learning to use my voice again.

When you look at things not from a vantage point of “how can I make sure I don’t lose?” but from the “what am I willing to lose for?” things change.

Even in the face of sure loss.

Even when things are tough.

Even when you know you are not going to win.

When you show up as yourself, put it out there, own it, love it…you’ve already won.

And whatever happens next doesn’t even matter.

When You Break All The Rules

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NYT

 

I have found myself spellbound by the story of Jill Abramson’s abrupt dismissal from the Executive Editor perch at The New York Times.

What the hell happened there? I’m like Nancy Drew on the Orient Express trying to figure out where Colonel Mustard was with the lead pipe on the day in question.

Was she a totally horrible boss? A bully, even? Was she breaking the glass ceiling in some weird way by succeeding at getting fired just the way a guy would have been? But then: Had she really been paid less than her male predecessor? Did she ruffle feathers when she asked for more?

As the story continued to unfold, I remembered my most popular blog post, The Roots Of Shame. That piece, at the moment, has more Facebook likes and links to Twitter and LinkedIn than anything I’ve ever written.

I guess I hit a nerve.

In the blog post, I refer to a viral TED talk from Brene Brown (actually, her second viral TED talk) which is what I thought about in terms of Abramson’s firing:

Now, allow me to pull in some other interesting data for your perusal. According to research at Boston College, the accepted societal norms for women are to be:

Nice. Thin. Modest. Use all available resources on her appearance.

Men are supposed to:

Be in emotional control. Put work first. Pursue status. Be violent.

It began to dawn on me that maybe the problem was that Jill Abramson was few of the things society thinks women should be and a lot of the things we think men should be.

I mean, her performance as Executive Editor was pretty amazing.  As Frida Ghitis wrote on CNN.com: “By objective standards, Abramson did a fine job. The paper won eight Pulitzer prizes during her brief tenure, with top-notch reporting and investigative journalism. Signups for digital access among readers increased. The company stock doubled during her tenure, performing better than the rest of the stock market.”

Not too shabby.

But then NYT Publisher Arthur Sulzberger, Jr. said this in a statement:

“I heard repeatedly from her newsroom colleagues, women and men, about a series of issues, including arbitrary decision-making, a failure to consult and bring colleagues with her, inadequate communication and the public mistreatment of colleagues. I discussed these issues with Jill … several times and warned her that … she risked losing the trust of both masthead and newsroom. She acknowledged that there were issues and agreed to try to overcome them. … It became clear, however, that the gap was too big to bridge and ultimately I concluded that she had lost the support of her masthead colleagues and could not win it back.”

As a woman, I realize I am supposed to be modest – but I just have to say: Someone should have gotten Jill Abramson an executive coach and I know just the person they should have hired.

Me.

Hold up. Does that immodesty make you uncomfortable? Me – a girl – claiming baldly that I am great at what I do and in the class of executive coaches who are qualified to coach executives at Jill Abramson’s level?

It’s kind of a dude thing to do, claiming status like that. How’s it feel to you?

Check right now – are  you surprised-startled-upset when someone behaves against type? When someone breaks “the rules”?

If you are, I completely understand and I’m proud of you for examining it. Hope your mind is opening.

Because every time a man behaves in a classically female way – let’s say he’s unexpectedly nice to someone and bestows credit elsewhere – he expands what it means to be a man.

Same thing for women. Any time one of us dares to stand up and claim our expertise, we make it a little easier for every other woman to do the same thing.

And maybe one of these days – hopefully in my lifetime – we’ll no longer penalize or ostracize a woman who’s too “masculine” or a man who’s too “feminine”.

We’ll just recognize people who are good at what they do and let them do their damn job.

 

“You’re Not Supposed To Have Ideas”

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light bulb idea

 

When I was in high school, I turned in the draft of a paper for some assignment or other. The teacher used one word repeatedly – written in blood-red ballpoint ink – “Citation?”

I asked her what she meant and she said, “You need to cite where you got these ideas, Michele.” To which I replied, “They’re my own ideas.”

She looked at me glaringly and said, “You’re not supposed to have ideas.”

As if every scholar who’s come down the pike for the last twenty-four hundred years is merely riffing on Plato.

If my memory is correct, I went ahead and gave the teacher what she wanted but have stubbornly and subversively continued to have my own ideas.

And it’s funny. I see this “you’re not supposed to have ideas” idea play out today in a million different ways.

On Facebook, for instance, there are scads of people who endlessly post inspiring quotes by famous people but nary a peep of their own thoughts. Now, I love me an inspirational quote as much as the next gal, but why do we invest the wisdom of Snoop Dog, er, I mean, Snoop Lion, with more meaning than something from our own heart?

This happens in real life, too, when the CEO is surrounded by Yes-men and Yes-women who play Whac-A-Mole with their peers only to produce banal, safe ideas which never move the dial or solve the real problem.

Oh, I understand the reluctance to speak up and say something. It’s hard to claim your own knowing. Especially for those of us who worry what other people will think – what if we say something that’s wrong? Or stupid? Or shows our innate lack of any intelligence, experience or capability? What if they find out we’re really an impostor and don’t know what the hell we’re doing?

So we keep our heads down, our mouths shut and post other people’s words.

You know exactly what I’m talking about.

Yet, over time, it gets harder and harder to be a blank slate. In Malcolm Gladwell’s terrific book Blink (hey, I just made a citation!), he suggests that based on sheer dint of having lived, you have expertise. And your knowledge and insight and instinct are almost always correct.

But owning our innate smarts and the viewpoint our own life has afforded… well, that is pretty hard to do. Maybe it smacks of arrogance, or is – using a phrase we threw around in high school – conceited to say, “Hey, I know this.”

Tell you what, though – that’s precisely what I want my brain surgeon to say someday when he opens up my noggin during surgery:  “Hey, I really know this.” That’s my kind of doc.

Yes, it takes bravery and belief in one’s own competence to say what you think. But it also takes the willingness to be vulnerable and open. Because knowing that what you’re offering is merely your perspective – standing in that place of claiming while at the same time recognizing someone else’s equal and valid right to share their own perspective, and then taking that information onboard and deciding which of it is true for you… that takes courage.

In her book (another citation!) Daring Greatly, writer Brene Brown talks about the courage it takes to live wholeheartedly and vulnerably while at the same time taking the risk to allow yourself to be known for who you are, warts and all. Brown says that it’s only by doing so that you can be fully yourself, and be fully loved in return.

And we all want to be loved, don’t we?

So, let me leave you with the universal truth Miley Cyrus shares in the neo-classic, existential anthem (see, Teacher? I can write citations) “We Can’t Stop”:

“To my home girls here with the big butts

Shaking it like we at a strip club

Remember only God can judge ya

Forget the haters

Cause somebody loves ya.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

 

The Roots of Shame

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Let me throw some stats at you:

The average American woman stands five foot four and weighs 164.7 pounds. She wears a size 14. Her waist measures 37 inches.

The average American man stands five foot nine and weighs 195 pounds. He wears a size 44. His waist measures nearly 40 inches. (CDC stats)

And,

The recent economic downturn hit men harder than women. Forbes says, “The share of men in the United States with a job is at its lowest point ever.” And forty percent of working wives are the family breadwinner according to the Chicago Tribune.

Now, allow me to pull in some other interesting data for your perusal. According to research at Boston College, the accepted societal norms for women are to be:

Nice.

Thin.

Modest.

Use all available resources on her appearance.

Men are supposed to:

Be in emotional control.

Put work first.

Pursue status.

Be violent.

I learned this from a powerful and straightforward new TED talk by Dr. Brene Brown on the subject of shame, and vulnerability.

What got me thinking while viewing Dr. Brown’s new talk is the wide gap between what we expect ourselves to be and who we really are.

Women should be thin – but the reality is that most of us are not a size zero.

Men should put work first, and pursue status, but the recent recession put more men out of work than ever before. Hard to put something first when you don’t have it, huh?

Women should be modest, which I figure means quiet, self-effacing and non-confrontational. Exactly the recipe for career success, don’t you think?

And speaking of time, what working mom has the time or energy to put all available resources on her appearance? I don’t know about you but I find it’s easy to spend money on my kids’ clothes, shoes, haircuts, dermatologists, orthodontists and dentists, and if there’s any money left maybe I’ll get myself a new t-shirt on sale at Target. Maybe.

Yes, the gap between who society says we should be and who we are is often quite large.

And it’s right in the gap that shame nestles.

Shame keeps us a far distance from feeling real happiness and fulfillment. Because it’s shame that says, “There is something profoundly, critically wrong with you. You should be different than you are.”

[There’s that word again – Should.] You all know I have no fondness for that particular word. Because The Word That Must Not Be Named usually comes from an external source, and often is in conflict with what’s truly best for us.

“You should be a doctor.” says your father, even if you have it in your heart and hands to be a glassblower.

“You should be thin if you ever want to catch a husband,” says your mother, even if she’s heavy herself. And her sisters are heavy. And her mother was heavy. [And they’re all married, btw.]

If shame has roots in the conflict between what’s expected and what’s real, then shoulds are its potting soil.

Now, here’s what I know – if you can break the Should Habit, you’ve got a shot at breaking the round-and-round shame circle.

And it’s easy. Stop shoulds by simply substituting a wonderful word – choose.

Without any shoulds in your life, you are free to choose to be that happy, outspoken size 14 bread-winning woman that you are.

Without any shoulds in your life, you are free to choose to be that fantastic at-home dad whose size 44 suits found a new home at Goodwill.

Without shoulds, you can be you. Finally. Without any shame.

That’s what I choose. How about you?

 

Connection and Imperfection

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Wow, last week’s story about Alice Sommers Herz was a huge hit.  In fact, reader Julie wrote: “I forwarded the link to the video on Alice to a dear friend of mine, who is engaged to an Israeli artist, and whose daughter is a wonderful pianist. Lo and behold a good friend of her stepfather knows Alice and her son Raffi! Small world!” Julie went on to forward me a note she’d received from Jerusalem from people who had attended Alice’s 100th birthday, and were thrilled to see the video of her.

My heart is happy. This makes me feel connected to people all around the world. Did I tell you? I found Alice’s story via Facebook.

I happen to love Facebook for the connection it gives me to old friends, new friends, soon-to-be friends and all of the things they’re reading, writing and watching.

Like Alice’s story.

And like this amazing presentation on overcoming shame from Dr. Brene Brown. I saw this short film earlier this week and had to watch it again and again. And send it to clients. And to my children. If I could have put it on a t-shirt and worn it around the block, I would have.

It’s that important. Want to watch it now?

Brene Brown Screenshot

Brown, a research professor at the University of Houston, has made her life’s work the study of shame and the impact of not feeling “good enough.”

Isn’t that something so many of us struggle with? Feeling “good enough”? Being sorta control freak perfectionists?

The underlying thought is, “If I’m perfect enough, then I’ll be worthy of the love and affection of others.” Of course, the flip side is, “If people see how imperfect I really am, they’ll know I’m not worthy of love and I’ll end up alone, an outcast living in a dilapidated shack in the woods hoarding tin cans, jelly jars and old newspapers, surrounded by 87 cats.” Hey, I know your nightmare.

So, to ward off the nightmare, all of life becomes this game of hide and seek – and what we’re hiding is our true selves.

But what Brown’s research shows is hopeful. There are people who live lives full of love and belonging. We all know them – they’re fun to be around. A breath of fresh air. Kind. And being this way comes down to whether or not you have the belief that you are worthy of love and belonging. Just a belief. It’s that simple.

How do you get that belief going in your own control freaky, perfection-seeking life?

Brown calls worthy-feeling, connected, loved and loving souls The Wholehearted. Her research shows that what The Wholehearted have in spades is courage – the courage to tell the story of who they are with their whole heart.

  • they have the grace to be imperfect
  • they are kind to themselves, even when imperfect
  • they are comfortable enough with themselves to be authentic, and forge relationships based on who they are – not who they “should” be

And they fully embrace their vulnerability.  The Wholehearted don’t for a minute think vulnerability is easy, but they believe that it’s totally necessary to be fully themselves. And to be beautiful.

Brown’s talk is so powerful. So many of us attempt to show an invulnerable, perfect, cool, jaded, hip-thing-du-jour kind of facade because we think that’s what people want to see. And, simultaneously, we desperately want people to like us.

But what the research shows – it’s pretty clear – is The Wholehearted are happy to be seen for who they really are. They know that the way to get the deep connection so many of us seek is to stop pretending to be something we’re not.

Be yourself, Dr. Brown says, imperfections and all, and you’ll have everything you want. You’ll be Wholehearted.