This week, our director did something that was typical in any organization: He sent an email and asked us to list our own accomplishments so he could compile a list for the annual report he was writing. Now this is the first year I’ve been with this group, and I was a little unsure if I actually had any “accomplishments” that would qualify for an annual report. When I clicked on the link in the email, it took me to a Google form that fed into a spreadsheet behind the scenes.
This was just a little bit intimidating. “One accomplishment per submission.” What?? I was confused and asked around, but others in my general area either hadn’t looked at the link or were as uncertain as I was as to what they should enter. I’ll be honest; I waffled so long, I never got around to putting anything in here, because in my silo thinking, I figured he meant other people in the organization who had more face time with faculty than I did.
A week later, we got another email about accomplishments (insert guilt here), and while some people had indeed provided content, it seemed many more of us had not. This time, our director was probably frustrated with us and just linked directly to the accomplishments page–but what a difference it made! Suddenly I could see what others had included as their accomplishments, and I was able to see where I fit into the bigger picture, and how my list of presentations over the last year would easily fit into this nebulous category of “accomplishments.”
I find it interesting that I was asked for the same information twice, both times using the same technology I was very familiar with, but the two outcomes were very different from each other. When left to my own interpretation of “accomplishments”–and not having been through this annual routine in this organization–I was closed off from any additional input and couldn’t find my footing. However, when allowed to see how others responded, and what they considered to be “accomplishments” I could then use their answers as a metric for what I’d done over the same time. I didn’t have to ask anybody else how they responded; I could see it for myself.
This is a teachable moment for me. We need to remember that sometimes, when we ask people for input, we need to also provide them with some sort of metrics that allow them to gauge what we, in fact, are looking for. Sometimes its simply additional words in the form of an explanation. Sometimes it might be a couple of examples to get the general idea across. But I believe, if we are able to be transparent and see directly what others are sharing (clearly I mean non-confidential information), then the lightbulb turns on, and we feed each other with ideas. Looking at the list, I saw that someone who co-presented a workshop with me gave me that credit; I made sure to do the same. Still another coworker had put down a roundtable discussion we had been invited to participate in with another college; I had totally forgotten to even include that in my list. There was all the help I needed, simply by being able to be reminded or nudged by things others had done around me. I love that.
So the next time I use a favorite technology for crowdsourcing (and I rely on Google Docs a lot), I am going to remember that it is important to give my users cues on how I’d like them to respond, and what information I am actually looking for. And if at all possible, I’m going to lead with transparency so that I’m really clear. Thanks Cole, for this teachable moment–and for letting me be a part of such a wicked awesome group.
Robin, I learned the same thing from that last week. I got the “flow” going once I saw what other people had put. In a related way, this confirms my belief in the “Project Management in the Open” style the team is attempting to get off the ground in the next few weeks. Oh boy…