Business as usual

Below is the copy of an email I sent my team on June 30, 2015:

On Friday afternoon, I sat down to be interviewed by a high school student interning at my company this summer.

She had prepared a number of thoughtful questions about the path that led me from the classroom to running a company, including this one: what's the best part, and the hardest part, about being CEO?

I explained that, for me, the answer was the same for both questions - what I enjoy most about my role is being in charge - setting the vision, charting the path towards that vision, inspiring others to join me on that path, deciding when and how to adjust course in highly ambiguous situations. And what is most difficult is the fact that no one is telling me what to do, advice is often conflicting, and there are many people relying on me to make decisions in situations where there is often no "right" answer. 

Yet, as I've been reflecting this weekend, there's more to it.

When you're the CEO, your words and actions carry more weight than the average person's. The feedback you give to employees, the questions you ask in meetings, the topics you choose to discuss - and those you gloss over - send a message about what matters within your company.

That weight has felt heavier than ever to carry in the past two weeks.

I woke up two Thursdays ago to the news of the shooting in Charleston, and started my work day by leading my company's Board meeting - without stopping to acknowledge the terrible news.

In the emails and meetings and Hangouts and Skype calls with colleagues since then, I've continued to skip over current events like the tragedy in Charleston, the history-making Supreme Court decision about marriage equality, terrorist attacks abroad, instead choosing to proceed like it's business as usual.

All the while, I'm beating myself up on the inside for not knowing what to say, for being afraid to say the "wrong" thing, for wondering what good it will do to invite dialogue about inequality and injustice in a work environment, for knowing that it will require us to own our struggle to build a truly diverse team and acknowledge that we're far from perfect.

For feeling like talking about prejudice and inequality isn't enough. And simultaneously feeling that, as a mission-driven company, we're already working to address injustice in our country's education system; what more can we do?

As Gabrielle Blair writes:

"There are deeply smart, endlessly eloquent people that have written, and continue to write, thousands of good, moving words on the subject of race in America, and specifically the brutal killings in Charleston. What can I possibly add to the conversation? Well, probably nothing. But that’s not the point. The point is to have the conversation. To talk about this. To not just read and click “like” and move on. But to actually talk about this, to discuss it, to communicate about it. To share an opinion, and to be open to having that opinion change if necessary. I can read something or follow a hashtag and shake my head in disbelief and shame, but if I don’t speak up and talk about this with everyone that falls within the sound of my voice, then I’m adding to the problem, not helping."

As hard as it is to admit, adding to the problem means that when I, the CEO, keep my mouth shut about current events, I'm sending a message to my team that these topics aren't important, that you shouldn't be talking about them at work, that we're too busy or have more important things to do. 

So here's what I want to say to my team: That's not true. We can't show up to work acting as if it's business as usual when it's not. We need to be able to acknowledge current events happening beyond our corporate walls, even if we don't know what to do about them. Because talking about it isn't enough, but that doesn't make it ok to ignore the conversation all together.

Crowdfunding school lunch

A couple weeks ago, Neerav Kingsland asked, "why aren't more people crowdfunding schools?" The argument was primarily financial in nature; using back-of-the-envelope math, he estimated that a family considering private school could save $150k over a child's lifetime by financing the startup costs of a public charter school.

It's been a busy September. Here are my belated thoughts -

Call me pessimistic, but I see ideas like this potentially widening the achievement gap, not closing it. I'll let Matt Candler take the "yes, and" approach. I'm feeling very "hey, wait a second" about this question.

For starters, it makes me think a LOT about whose money we're taking at the charter school whose board I sit on, the inevitable influence of those donors, and the power dynamics between those who give financially and those who give in other ways or not at all. I agree with Neerav's premise that we should be innovating with respect to the way schools are funded, but also need to be mindful of how direct/crowd funding can unlevel the playing field. 

A friend who runs a charter school mused, "What if we did a 100% anonymous crowdfunding (anonymous even to us at the school site)?  Might that be able to get at the ends that Neerav and Matt suggest while still side-stepping the implied consequences of money as influence?"

To which I replied, "Would seem to me that in order to make philanthropic contributions completely anonymous, you'd have to set up a separate 'holding' 501c3/fund, that takes in individual contributions, documents them for tax purposes, and then allocates the aggregate funding to the school in one lump sum. I really like the idea of making all contributions - from a parent's $10 donation to a Walton grant - anonymous, so that no one donor gets special privileges like information rights, etc. Except how realistic is this? Seems pretty idealistic. Would Walton ever agree? Worth thinking through further though."

Ok, so whether this is even a good idea aside, to Neerav's main question of why aren't more families doing this? A couple quick thoughts.

Startups are risky, most parents don't want to experiment with their child, even if the financial cost is lower than private school tuition, there are indirect and non-financial costs associated with finding a school leader worth "investing in." Not to mention the argument that private school families are paying for access to an exclusive network, not just a good education.

All that to say, allow me to riff on Neerav's question for a moment. As back-to-school season is now in full swing, I'm noticing how involved the process of packing your child's school lunch has become. I can't help but ask, why aren't more people crowd funding better school lunch programs? The ROI on paying a local caterer (or here in New Orleans, a program like Liberty's Kitchen) to provide an alternative to the cafeteria-provided mystery meat surely has to be worth all the time spent packing those trendy kid-sized bento boxes.

P.S. In the "also came across this post around the time of writing" category: DesignMom on choosing to send her children to the local public high school in Oakland, CA. Good food for thought.

Optimizing for startup skill acquisition

Some of you have heard the story of Monique's first sales call. I love telling this story and this is me finally writing it down. For those who haven't heard it, some context first -

Whenever I meet someone just starting their entrepreneurial journey, they'll inevitably ask me to share my own story. I've found this to be a highly inefficient activity for both parties. Instead of launching into a story about my "lightbulb" moment and rollercoaster ride, I try to ask them about their company's next milestone. 

When they share, it's so, so tempting to say "oh! here what's you should do next" or "yes yes, here's what I did in that situation." I've been training myself not to do that, to remind myself it's actually counter-productive if I want to be helpful.  

Instead, I think about optimizing for startup skill acquisition over well-intentioned but misguided advice.

Enter the roleplay. Why tell someone what they should do, when you could help them actually practice the skill they'll need to reach the next milestone? Teach an entrepreneur to fish, as the saying goes, you know?

The value of my own experience is not found inside my stories of success and failure and perseverance. Rather, my experience affords me an ability to recognize the skills and mindset a founder will need to reach their very next milestone, because there's a good chance I had to develop the same skills to reach a similar milestone. 

The most memorable company milestones are the "firsts" because going from 0 to 1 is always more exhilarating (read: scary) than going from 1 to n. The most memorable of the memorable, of course, is closing your first sale.

Especially if you're a first-time businessperson coming directly out of the classroom, like me.

And like Monique, who I had the good fortune to meet this summer. Monique is a former teacher and business school graduate who is passionate about equipping parents with high-quality resources to help their children become great readers. Her company, Parents as Partners, provides annotated leveled books to schools. By annotated, I mean the books include questions that parents can ask their children as they read together, to encourage and model good reading habits.

The day that Monique had scheduled her first in-person sales presentation, she asked my advice. 

Instead, we sat down to role-play. 

The mock conversation started out as you'd expect: intro to the company, its value proposition, a couple pilot success stories. Fast forward to the ask -

Me, playing the role of a school district's Director of Family Engagement, "It definitely sounds like your product could help us reach our parent engagement goals, but you know, budgets are really tight right now, so tell me how much this will cost."

Monique paused, but only slightly.

"Well, each book is $5.00," she responded confidently.

"Time out, time out, time out," I said. "You're asking the customer to do the math. Don't be afraid to ask for the sale. Let's walk through this with some back-of-the-envelope math. How many different book titles do you recommend having in each classroom?"

"Well, average class size in early elementary classrooms is 25, so a classroom set would be 25."

"And how many copies of a title do you recommend in a classroom?"

"At least 3 to form a guided reading group."

"Ok, so 75 individual books per classroom, times 3 classrooms per grade level, times 3 grades (K - 2), times $5/book means you're basically asking for an $3,400 order."

Monique's mouth dropped open. She looked visibly surprised.

"Monique," I said, "Don't take this the wrong way. But $3,400 is a drop in the bucket for a district school. They can afford this, your role is to make them see the value."

"Got it. Let's rewind and play it again," she said.

Couple more rounds of tweaking the phraseology and tone, and Monique was out the door to make her appointment.

The next morning, Monique comes bounding into the office. "So???" we all ask.

"We got to the part about pricing and I explained what was included in the $3,400 package. The Family Coordinator - she didn't even blink! In fact, she responded with 'That sounds great. We'll also want some professional development, so that our teachers know how to roll this out and invest their families. Talk to me about your PD options.'"

"Annnnd?" we all chorused, literally sitting on the edges of our seats.

"Well, I said I'd have to check with my team of course, but we, meaning the Royal We, could probably deliver a half-day session for around $50."

I smiled. I cringed. "Oh, Monique, you didn't! Industry standard rate for PD is $2500/day! But hey, you got the sale!"

Moral of the story? Roleplay is a great way to build skill and confidence. But just remember, you can't rehearse everything - there's no better way to learn than getting out there and making it happen.

Kudos to Monique on her first sale, and many thanks for allowing me to share this story.

Next time, I'll continue the theme of recognizing the skills and mindset needed to reach your next milestone with a story about embracing the CEO identity as a first-time founder...

can we please stop claiming that arrogance is a prerequisite for startup founders?

This week, more than a few people have sent me a link to BusinessWeek's current cover story, the title of which attempts to claim that tech arrogance is a good thing.

Friends, can we please call this what it is? Complete and utter nonsense, if you're building a company that seeks to have a sustaining impact. It's also, as the BW article points out, a front - mostly surface-level showmanship and fear of vulnerability.

This was top of mind for me this morning, after my colleague and Head of our Professional Services team sent the following note to our team of Implementation Coaches and Coordinators:

Dear Team,

I was reflecting on my time spend in schools over the past week. It was a privilege to be invited to join the opening session of school at Washington High School yesterday. As I listened to the hopes that the visionary principal shared with her teachers, some their first day and one teacher who is in his last year before retiring, I was taken back to so many "first days of school" I have had in the past.

As a former administrator, I know how hard it is to make the decisions about how to spend this precious professional development time. I just want to thank all of our partners who are trusting us with this time. Enjoy it with your new friends - our clients - and make it a great day! I am humbled by this opportunity.

Building a company is all about the privilege of serving customers, about being vulnerable and humble enough to openly admit that we may not always "know best," about listening to and learning from our customers as they learn from us - as partners, and equals.


P.S. Was also reading Venture For America CEO Andrew Yang's article about learning to embrace failure around the time of this post. This quote resonated as the antidote to the "arrogance is good" movement by addressing the very real behind-the-scenes mental health issues that founders face:

Within the entrepreneurial path, there is a culture of "faking it till you make it." You pump your company up and say "everything is up and to the right" whenever someone asks. Meanwhile, you're stressed out and wondering how to take the next step. There has recently been a growing acknowledgment of mental health issues being very much part of the entrepreneurship culture in part because, even in the world of startups, people are afraid to fail in an excruciatingly public manner.

The Art of the E-intro

Coming off a week of working out of 4.0 Schools as an Entrepreneur-in-Residence, I am struck by how much I have learned about operating a business over the past five years since leaving the classroom. 

Been reflecting on this and asking myself: 

Given all that a first-time founder with zero business background needs to learn in order to be successful, how might we condense all of this and explicitly front-load it in order to rapidly accelerate someone's development as a business person, instead of hoping they'll just figure it out because that's what we all had to do?

Here's a first stab at explicitly modeling and coaching one minor but important technique critical for success in early stage entrepreneurship: the art of the e-intro. I'm writing this from the perspective of the coach, not the entrepreneur, because I want to highlight how important it is not to assume first-time founders know how to maneuver through the implicit social norms of startup culture. 

Note my deliberate effort to follow up and "check for understanding" (yes, you can take the teacher out of the classroom but I'm still forever a teacher) - this is admittedly tough to do, because you run the risk of being patronizing or overbearing. Even writing this post feels a bit patronizing, but I ran it by the people who are a part of this story, and they assured me that they would have benefitted from reading this to learn, hence, I write on.

The Three B's: Blurb, BCC, Boomerang

One of the companies I worked with last week, Vidcode, is building a business to address the pipeline problem in software development. I had a contact at Google to whom I wanted to make an intro. I asked the co-founders to send me a blurb (3-4 sentences that summarized their company and what they were hoping to get out of the connection) that I could pass along in my e-intro, and used it as an opportunity to recommend that next time they wanted an intro, they could proactively offer to share a blurb with the connector, in order to increase the likelihood that said connector would follow through.

I then explained that sometime in the past couple years, "moving you to bcc" has become an industry standard in responding to e-intros, and that not adhering to this convention may subtly indicate you're new to the game and make it less likely to be taken seriously. It took me a few email exchanges with VCs to pick up on this back when I started, and because this convention does not exist in the education realm, it's especially important for first-time education entrepreneurs to be aware of the "accepted" way to address a new connection from the get-go.

Lastly, Boomerang (or similar email plugin). I basically proselytize Boomerang by explaining that most likely the person to whom you have just been introduced is very, very busy. Making sure that first-time entrepreneurs don't interpret radio silence as lack of interest is key. If there was one takeaway I left with the 4.0 Launch cohort, I hope it was "Boomerang every outbound email" and if no initial response, always followup.

The Check for Understanding

It's one thing to explain these techniques. It's quite another to followup and make sure that what you taught is actually sticking. Here's exactly how I did this:

To: Alex, Vidcode co-founder
From: Me
Subject: another lead


Spoke with the head of [local school board] the other day - he mentioned that one of his schools would be interested in learning about Vidcode. Wanted to double check that you'd welcome the intro and sales opportunity before I made it. Please let me know.

Also, were you able to connect with Tara [original person I e-intro'ed them to last week]?


The reply:

To: Me
From: Alex
Re: another lead
We haven't heard back from Tara yet.  I'll shoot her another email tomorrow AM to touch base?

Friends, let's zero-in on that very last question mark. This is exactly why, if you're coaching first-time entrepreneurs, the follow-up CFU is such a critical step to reinforce what entrepreneurs are "supposed to do." My response back to Alex was simply to go ask another cohort member about Boomerang :) And I'll probably follow up (reminded by my own Boomerang) in another week to see where the connection stands, as there are a whole host of other techniques to learn once you actually schedule a meeting with a potential advisor/partner/etc.


School dog, pony rides, a fablab, art everywhere, and oh yeah, some iPads at Baltimore elementary school

I've followed Joe Manko, Principal of Liberty Elementary School in Baltimore, on Twitter for a few years now. So I was pretty pumped when I found him live-tweeting the same session at a conference I attended recently and got to meet him in person.

Fast forward a couple weeks, and I just had the pleasure of visiting his school.

Some observations -

1. The average number of years of teaching experience at Liberty is 14. Two teachers just celebrated their 42nd year of teaching. (!!!) Seeing them in action (the summer program was in session during my visit), it is immediately apparent how much we grossly undervalue the power of experience in the public discourse on education reform.  

2. Because of the experience level of the teaching staff, and the leadership responsibilities they take on, Joe is the only administrator. No APs, no deans. This frees up budget for 5 full time interventionists, a social worker, and a speech pathologist. Note that the school is a 90-90-90 public district school (no admissions requirements). That means 90% of the students are performing on grade-level, 90% are students of color, and 90% qualify for free and reduced price lunch.

3. The tour of the building was quite a dog and pony show. Literally. Joe actively builds partnerships with community organizations to bring resources into the school. Liberty has a school dog as part of a pet therapy program, and the students have been training service dogs for several years. They also work with a local farm to bring horses to campus once a month (and daily during the summer!). Students use their "behavior bucks" to purchase pony rides (5 Liberty bucks). Or the full pony package (20 Liberty bucks) gets them a ride and the opportunity to feed, groom, and generally learn how to take care of the animal. An interventionist on our tour referred to this as the humane education movement, something I wasn't previously familiar with.

4. The children's art was EVERYWHERE. Walls. Ceilings. Windows. Pretty much every inch of space that wasn't covered with student writing samples was covered with art. They'd even wrapped colored ribbons around the railings in the stairwell just because. Metal trash cans had become painted masterpieces. The net result - you couldn't help but feel the joy and love and warmth in the building.

5. Best (and easy to implement!) display of data to demonstrate student growth in writing: outside of one 2nd grade classroom, each student had three pieces of writing posted side-by-side: from beginning, middle, and end of year. The growth in word choice, sentence structure, penmanship was a powerful visual display.

6. Yes, there was technology - in several classrooms, students were on individual iPads researching animals for their reports. I was struck by how unremarkable this was (in a good way) - the iPad was just another tool along side the construction paper, glue, and scissors. A few bulletin boards featured QR codes that linked to students' writeups on volcanos - again, I noted how subtle this use of technology was.

7. They're building a fablab in the library and have raised money for 3D printers and the like. Kids are already making things with Raspberry Pi, Arduino, and Makey Makey, and learning Scratch.

Biggest takeaway was the school's obvious commitment to the whole child, and the balanced investment in experienced staff, community partnerships, and the mix of modern and old-fashioned tools for kids to be creators. Far too often in the debate about education reform, we're pitting teachers against technology, or dangerously narrowing our definition of education to academic content mastery as demonstrated by standardized test performance. Liberty was as refreshing reminder that is in fact possible to be a neighborhood public school that takes a wider, holistic view.

Social Rules from the Hacker School User Manual

Came across Hacker School's User Manual last night. For those unfamiliar, 

Hacker School is a free, full-time, immersive school in New York for becoming a better programmer. We're like a writers' retreat for programmers. People come from around the world to write code and grow as programmers.

Take three minutes and go read the part about Social Rules. I'll still be here when you get back.

So many things I appreciate about this post. Let's start with simplicity of naming behaviors to make the implicit explicit. For the edu folks reading this, it's like Doug Lemov Teach Like a Champion techniques but for coders. Brilliant.

If I had a nickel for every "Feigned Surprise" and "Well Actually" that found its way into the late night discussions we'd have in the computer lab as we worked to get our programs to compile during my undergrad years, I'd be pretty rich. And Hacker School's not the first to call attention to this; Dr. Maria Klawe, President of Harvey Mudd College, also speaks about counteracting these social forces (in order to create a more inclusive environment) in a university setting (see here, here, and here).

I'm especially jazzed about the fourth rule's use of the term subtle-isms, as opposed to the increasingly popular term micro-aggressions. I find this choice (whether intentional or not) to be a much more welcoming way to describe - and thus discuss - behavior that is often not intentional.

Subtle -isms are small things that make others feel uncomfortable, things that we all sometimes do by mistake. For example, saying "It's so easy my grandmother could do it" is a subtle -ism. Like the other three social rules, this one is often accidentally broken. Like the other three, it's not a big deal to mess up – you just apologize and move on ... If you are a third party, and you don't see what could be biased about the comment that was made, feel free to talk to faculty. Please don't say, "Comment X wasn't homophobic!" Similarly, please don't pile on to someone who made a mistake. The "subtle" in "subtle -isms" means that it's probably not obvious to everyone right away what was wrong with the comment.

Yes. This. Normalizing it because it's true; pretty much everyone does make these mistakes and we benefit when others help us recognize when we do.

Update: Yes, even famous people, like Stephen Colbert, make the mistake of subtle-isms :) See 3:46 into his "Ask a Grown" on Rookie Mag. The fact that I picked up on this is a testament to the naming of subtle behaviors - I otherwise would have probably overlooked it.

The Hacker School faculty recognized that most subtle-isms are inherently not obvious, and Allison Kaptur recently wrote a good followup post that acknowledges it's more difficult to follow this rule (as compared to No Feigning Surprise, No Well-Actually's, and No Backseat Driving).

Breaking the fourth social rule, like breaking any other social rule, is an accident and a small thing. In theory, someone should be able to say "Hey, that was subtly sexist," get the response "Oops, sorry!" and move on just as easily as if they'd well-actually'ed. In practice, people are less likely to point out when this rule is broken, and more likely to be defensive if they were the rule-breaker. We'd like to change this.

For the last year, the "No subtle -isms" rule has carried some implementation guidelines. One of these is asking people not to debate whether or not something is an -ism. When we introduced this policy, many women in our community responded positively. At the same time, some men described their process of discovering what their female friends were going through, and worried that other men would miss out on this opportunity to become allies. That's a genuine cost of having this policy. Nevertheless, we believe that this cost is outweighed by two benefits. First, we want marginalized people to feel welcome, not like they have to defend their presence. Second, we don't want marginalized people to have to spend time educating non-marginalized people who might be coming to these ideas for the first time. Faculty - not other Hacker Schoolers - are happy to help people discover resources for learning about anti-oppression.

What a pragmatic way to make the case for "not wanting marginalized people to have to spend time educating others" because of the obvious reason that said people enrolled this school to become better programmers, and these conversations can be one huge distracting time suck.



Connecting the dots:

In response to Audrey Watters' post on sexism at ISTE earlier this year, I (privately) mused that changing a conference's code of conduct (edtech events like ISTE and in general) would not substantially address the unwelcoming experiences many attendees have. I didn't have the words to explain why at the time, but now I do -
We often say that the Hacker School social rules are intended to be lightweight. Another way to put this is that we expect that Hacker Schoolers will occasionally break one of the social rules. When this happens, another Hacker Schooler will say, "Hey, that was a well-actually," and the first Hacker Schooler will say "Oops, sorry!" That's it – accidentally breaking social rules is common, expected, and readily forgiven. Even Hacker School founders sometimes slip up. Hacker School social rules are much lighter than a code of conduct. Someone who violates a conference's code of conduct could get written up, warned, or ejected from the conference. Violating a code of conduct is a big deal, and it usually isn't hard to avoid doing so. By contrast, it's much harder to avoid breaking the Hacker School social rules, and people often make mistakes.
Emphasis in that last line is mine - this is exactly what I wanted to articulate in the dialogue about ISTE policies. I'd love to see conferences, meetups, barcamps, etc. adopt Social Rules in addition to a Code of Conduct, because the behaviors that contribute to an unwelcome environment are often so subtle (and often unintentional) that applying a Code of Conduct in those situations seems like overkill. This desire not to blow something out of proportion often discourages people from addressing the subtle-ism at all.

Essentially, make it ok for everyone to sweat the small stuff so that the big stuff is less likely to happen (and certainly, when the big stuff happens, you are prepared).

Lastly, I'm going to start pulling this User Manual out in casual conversation as a means of broaching the topic of implicit social norms. Feels like it would be far less intimidating (and thus far more productive) then to ask "Hey, so how do we solve sexism in tech?" ya know? So holler if you want to grab a beer and chat.


P.S. Related posts I read as I fell through the rabbit hole that is the Internet: