Tag Archives: Success

Seeing A Future

Our work in Nicaragua has been made up of wins and losses over the years, just like in any enterprise.  I cheer the groups which seem to embrace the principles of transparency and participation and  holistic well-being and I mourn the groups that at first step up to that difficult model and then back away, whether through habit or urgency or seduction.  It’s hard for me to remember that the organizations with whom we work are not U.S. businesses, and that I can’t really look at them through the same lens that I might use to consider the workings of a company here.  But there is one need that seems to apply to developing organizations no matter what structure they may have and wherever they may be located.  That essential component is the ability to envision a future.

It’s important for you to note that I did not say the future, but a future.  The future implies whatever is destined to be, something beyond both our control and our ability to foresee.  A future suggests a point in time to come which is subject to our influence if not complete control.  An organization is subject to all of the laws of Nature which will shape the future, but it maintains a hold on many of the cultural, social and relationship elements of a future.  Good-to-great organizations around the world have come to recognize and embrace that difference.  A future is made up of elements beyond our control, but many are of our own making.

That truth applies equally to any of the four priority initiatives undertaken by Winds of Peace.  In order for women of Nicaragua to achieve an equal status with equal rights, they must first be able to envision a future where gender issues are not a hindrance to personal development, but rather an awareness of the enormous untapped resources within the country.  If Indigenous communities seek to regain their ancient cultural and property rights as the original inhabitants of their lands, they must first be able to envision a future where they are willing to truly speak from the ancestral voice, as one, in bridging past and future generations within the framework of cultural stewardship.  If the rural agricultural poor ever escape from the factors which isolate and oppress them, it may be a result of their ability to recognize their collaborative strengths and a future view of broad engagement and participation from peasants who are able to separate short-term relief from long-term transformation.  In order for education to lead Nicaragua into a future instead of the future, leaders throughout the country will need to see education not as a problem with few solutions, but as the solution to a great many problems facing the entire nation.  Those changes in perspective alone reshape a future in ways beyond measure.

But in each case, the change comes first from envisioning a future that is wanted and then from committing to that vision.  The visioning is more than unstructured dreaming; it consists of objective components that are refined to be specific, measurable, achievable, realistic and timely.  Only if the resulting vision is compelling enough, will it have the strength to garner the commitment from others that will be required, because that dedication forms the essential energy needed to swim against a tide of status quo.  Creating a future is neither automatic nor easy, but few worthwhile outcomes  ever are.  Just ask the members of countless enterprises that go out of business every year.

Whenever faced with a faltering initiative in Nicaragua, I ask myself whether there was a future in mind at its inception, or whether the request for partnership was born of short-term, immediate need.  I wonder whether an initial vision became somehow corrupted by circumstance or self.  It’s often difficult to discern where a group is in its thinking, and some folks have become very accomplished at telling a compelling story without a compelling vision behind it.  Our evaluations will never be perfect.  But the ones who stand to lose the most are not the members of Winds of Peace or the countless other funders who work in Nicaragua.  It’s the organizations themselves, and the individuals within, who run the risk of having to face the future, whatever unknowns that may bring….

 

 

Ownership Here and There

                                                                    
I’ve been involved in the notion of ownership quite a lot.  I helped construct an employee ownership plan for my company, I served as a Trustee for that plan for more than 20 years, I was a participant in the plan, I served two terms on the Board of Directors of The ESOP Association (a lobbying and education association serving the employee ownership community), I served on five corporate boards of employee owned companies, I have taught ownership basics domestically and outside the U.S., I’ve written articles for employee ownership periodicals, have touted the values and methodologies of successful ownership to cooperatives in Nicaragua and have delivered more than one hundred ownership addresses to employee ownership audiences over the past twenty-seven years.  You might say that I like the notion of employee ownership.

In the wake of those activities, I continue to reflect on the importance of ownership to individual and collective development, both domestically and abroad.  When I first began working in Nicaragua, I was struck by the similarities between Nicaraguan organizations seeking to strengthen themselves and the employee-owned entities with whom I had worked in the U.S.  It turns out that those elements of transparency, participation, engagement, and collaborative work are not only progressive management strategies, but also universal human needs.  But lately I’ve reawakened to another truth about ownership that is as certain in one society as it is in the other: successful ownership of anything requires commitment, attention and buy-in.

I’ve recounted here the moving testimony from some Nicaraguan coop members who describe actually owning something for the first time in their lives.  I’ve heard tearful stories about how belonging to a group of fellow producers has fundamentally changed families and lives.  We’ve witnessed in wonder at the development of rural peasants who, with no prior experience, have ambitiously taken on the formation and registration of a coop , organized its members, dodged the many political and economic obstacles along the way, and improved their prospects.  The opportunity of ownership is encouraging stuff for the most part, and it’s why we continue working with such people.

But we’ve also seen the “other” side of the ownership equation, the risks and responsibilities.  Recently we learned of an embezzlement perpetrated within one of the coops we have most admired; the discovery was not only disappointing because of the trust broken on the part of the manager involved, but also the realization that the coop members had not been as attentive to their business as they could/should have been.  There is a deeply held hope that the plan for restoration of coop members’ funds as well as WPF assistance can be carried out timely and fully, but there is the nagging question of whether they can accomplish firm footing after such a blow.  There are also the several coops who simply did not repay their obligation, for a variety of stated reasons.

I know that there can be a tendency in the case of U.S. Employee Stock Ownership Plan (ESOP) companies to see the establishment of an ownership plan as a gift, as a transfer of rights and privileges to be enjoyed by the new owners at their leisure.  Of course, that perception is a false and dangerous one, since the value of the ownership is only as strong as the work being put into it.  Ownership is not a gift, only an opportunity.  But it’s the same opportunity that successful entrepreneurs have embraced and leveraged in development of enterprises which others admire and wonder how to emulate.  There is no magic formula, nothing in the genetics to favor such owners over others.  There is only the hard work applied to the opportunity.  Do all opportunities pan out successfully?  No.  But without the commitment element, even the most favorable opportunity cannot succeed.  It’s a lesson that U.S. ESOP companies preach and teach in consistent cadence.

The lesson is no less true in Nicaragua.  Ownership is a tremendous opportunity, but one which requires the diligence, self-honesty and fundamental skills to give life to that chance.  Aspiring Nicaraguans- as well as North American employee owners- might hear about fortunes made overnight, but such wealth is often, in fact, made in the darkness of deceit and manipulation, where the light of integrity and collaboration does not shine and where lasting advantages cannot survive.  It leads to impoverishment far deeper than money can define. Just ask guys with names like Madoff or Skilling or Lay.

In trying to leverage the opportunities of ownership, there are lots of models from which to learn.  The ones which hold the greatest promise are those which reject notions of secrecy, political influence or personal gain. Because in the long run, secrets become told, political influence changes parties and personal gain, in fact, means that you most often end up alone.

Maybe we all speak the same language, after all….

 

 

 

 


‘Tis a Gift

‘Tis a gift to be simple, ’tis a gift to be free,

‘Tis a gift to come ’round where we ought to be.

And when we have found the place that’s just right,

It will be in the valley of love and delight.

You may remember that little song from childhood or perhaps singing it to your own children, but it always struck me as a comforting little tune that told of a special place in our lives, a spot that was made just for us, one that would ultimately be the definition of “home.”  Even if many of us never reached the elusive place, the song gave us hope that such a spot did exist and that it was simply a matter of time before we would encounter it.  And that was reason enough to make a bad day become more hopeful.

The other message contained in the rhyme, of course, is that the place we seek so diligently is probably a lot closer than we may think, that the simpler elements of our lives are where we will discover the real gifts of peace and contentment.  I met a guy in Nicaragua last month who has done just that, at an age that I’m guessing is still shy of 30.  His name is Wilmer, and he says, “I was born here and I want to die here.” And he says it not from a sense of resignation, but from a posture of gratitude and good fortune.

Mark and I had taken a break from the workshop we were attending as the cooperative participants took some time to work on innovations specific to their own needs.  Once again, the workshop setting was the awe-inspiring setting of Peñas Blancas, the “white cliffs” area surrounded by deep forest and reborn ancient habitat.  We decided to walk the narrow road which leads into the forest and beyond, but after a short distance we noticed the unfinished wet mill for coffee processing, owned by the cooperative GARBO.  As both participants in and hosts for the workshop, members of GARBO had referenced the  unfinished mill and their need for its completion.  So Mark and I looked it over, trying to discern the eventual flow of the coffee beans and residue water.  We had circled around the back of the mill to complete the vista when a young man wielding a healthy-sized machete emerged from the tall grass of the hillside.  I suppose two unescorted gringos nosing around the mill raised more than a little curiosity and maybe even suspicion.  But Mark explained our purpose and presence with the workshop to allay any concerns.  The young fellow introduced himself as Wilmer.

It turns out that Wilmer had his own coffee plat just down the hill from the wet mill, so we discussed how important its completion would be for him and others in the cooperative.  He explained all the mill nuances that Mark and I couldn’t discern for ourselves and we gained some pretty good insights into the process from a first-hand source.  Eventually, Wilmer asked whether we might like to see his coffee area.  Naturally, we were curious to do so.  We hiked a short way, weaving ourselves deeper into the feel of the forest but not yet immersed in it.  Very soon, we emerged in a clearing, surrounded by a sea of white coffee blossoms.  It was the first time I had seen the plants in bloom, and the effect was stunning.

The coffee plants hung heavy with blooms, weighted by these white promises of harvest.  Between the pristine visual effect and the sweetness in the air, I might have been in some modern day Eden.  Wilmer gestured with a wide sweep of his arm to present the extent of his land and coffee; as much as we delighted at the sight, I think Wilmer did more so.  This was his land, his work, his life.  He didn’t need to say very much, as the landscape spoke volumes.

But he did mention bees.  We were talking about the pollination process in the coffee fields and he reported that he kept bees, small indian bees which did not sting.  Upon seeing our interest, he asked whether we might like to see some hives, so we were off on a new fact-finding leg of our hike.

The hives were small boxes that hung under the eaves of Wilmer’s simple home.  He carefully pried open the side of one and let us examine the busy spaces inside.  Hundreds of tiny bees, no larger than some voracious Minnesota mosquitoes, buzzed around us without anger, just waiting for whatever interruption this was to pass.  Before they could return to work, Wilmer offered for us to scoop out some of the purest honey either of us will ever taste.  He carefully reconstructed the side of the hive and then hung it outside the door to his home, along with the four other hives circling the house.

Our fascination with the bees led Wilmer to invite us to see the other hives, made up of “other bees.”  He was quick to state that these bees were a little bigger than the others, but that they did not sting, either.  Mark and I felt as though we were on a tourist roll, so we readily accepted. Away from the house, near the edge of the woods, a larger hive was tapped and opened.  Now, it so happens that as Wilmer opened the hive, he referred to the producers as “angry bees.”  That, in turn, prompted an immediate inquiry from us as to whether these little guys were of the stinging variety, to which Wilmer replied, “Oh, yes.”  To this day we’re not sure whether he was taking an opportunity to prank a couple of visitors or whether he had misspoken, but it didn’t really matter.  We moved away from the hive quickly, shooing bees away as well as we could, while Wilmer walked with us, covered in tiny bees and oblivious to their bites.  A collected and contented man.

A generous man, too.  Wilmer asked whether we might want to see hives on another family member’s dwelling, but by now our afternoon encounter had eclipsed 45 minutes.  We needed to return to the workshop, where the participants would have been spending the time constructing plans and finding ways to “think outside the box.”  Organizations need to do such work to anticipate and manage the complexities of multiple demands and interests; maybe individuals need to, as well.   But on this one afternoon, I was refreshed to meet a man who possessed absolute clarity about his place, his calling, his life.  His past and his future had already been written in his certainty about birth and death and the days between.

And be a simple kind of man,

Oh, be something you love and understand.

 Be a simple kind of man,

 Oh, won’t you do this for me son, if you can….        “Simple Man”  by Lynyrd Skynyrd

Sometimes the gifts we strive so hard to find, to “earn” for ourselves, are to be found in entirely different forms and places, and are there simply for the claiming….


 

 

Banking On It

In light of the current status of banks and banking in the U.S. (wretched), I suppose the last institution with which I’d like to be affiliated is a bank.  Central banks and those deemed “too big to fail” contributed mightily to the near-collapse of the U.S. economy several years ago, and their persistent breaches of integrity place them firmly at the lowest end of the scale of trustworthiness.  It’s a bad place for banks to be, when they represent an institution that really should thrive on their customers’ trust.  (Just this week I was prompted to contact one well-known national bank to inquire about when they might be predisposed to distribute a small remainder of my parents’ estate, the bulk of which was settled months ago.  Oh yeah, they replied, we probably can release those funds now.  Hm.  Who knows how long they might have elected to hold onto the funds if I had not inquired.)

Last week, however, I had an entirely different experience with a banking operation in Nicaragua.  I visited again with The Nicaraguan Association for Sustainable Development (ANIDES) and its visionary leader, Gloria Elena Ordoñez Vargas.  This is an individual and an organization that understands what banking is supposed to be like, and it puts to shame most of the other organizations I know that go by the name “bank.”

Winds of Peace has funded ANIDES previously, in an effort to assist the organization with the establishment of five communal banks.  These are small, local banking offices to promote the economic and organizational autonomy of more than 200 women who live in extreme poverty in very rural locations.  Indeed, the offices more often than not are simply the homes of the local leaders.  But what these banks have been able to do, what they have represented for the women members is nothing short of remarkable.

With a very modest funding by Winds of Peace, in a little more than a year ANIDES has been able to establish a revolving credit fund for the 220+ members, establish two business groups to coordinate independent “home” businesses, provide training in the creation of a savings culture, nurture a positive capital growth in each of the small banks established, offer education and assistance to women victims of domestic violence, enhance the access to basic food needs and boost the local economies of the communities served.  This is banking in its most holistic form, integrating elements that are social, organizational, cultural, economic, human, spiritual and environmental in scope.  When was the last time your bank inquired about your social, human or spiritual needs?

What is even more remarkable about this initiative’s success is that it is being achieved with women members who have almost no previous economic experience or training.  Meeting with the women for the first time last September, I was struck by their shyness and humility, but also with their tenacity (many came from miles away on foot) and their outright success: only one of the small community banks was showing deficits by its neophyte members.  Members themselves were providing the tracking, the follow-up and the solidarity with one another to make sure that their borrowing was matched by their repayments.  In other words, the bank existed to facilitate both the needs and the strengths of its members, not to impose onerous conditions that would encourage failure.  What a novel concept for banking.  What an amazing impact on the lives of some very poor people.

The intended extension of this banking project is that the women, who now have softened some of their previous fears about borrowing money, might be encouraged to invest in the improvement of their rudimentary homes and living conditions, including the installation of ecological toilets (some of the best composting toilet are being introduced into the market, recent upgrades in the technology make it easier to consider the option). This amenity- sounding so essential to so many of us- has been considered an absolute luxury by many rural residents.  With the presence of the communal banks to accompany them, such an amenity now seems within reach, and along with it rises the self-esteem of the women who can provide it.  The existence of a small bank can allow these women to take control of their lives in ways they previously could not.

What can a bank do?  Merely channel the empowerment of its members, provide access to credit and tools for investment, facilitate education to recognize and respond to gender oppression, encourage healthy habitat conditions, grow self-esteem, foster economic autonomy and teach people how to take more control of their own lives.  In a world where the future for many banking institutions seems to include implosion, we could learn a great many lessons from these communal banks in Nicaragua.  It might even beg the question, “Who really is the more developed….?”