Love is a better master than duty

Yesterday, I attended the monthly professional development luncheon for the Public Relations Society of America. The speaker was Ron Smedley, whose consultancy Synergistic Resource Associates helps organizations wade through the muddy waters of Human Resources risk issues, among others.

We had asked Mr. Smedley to talk to us about ethics in Social Media, and, in particular, how we as Public Relations practitioners can offer counsel to our administrators regarding good policy regarding employee participation in the interactive online world.

It was interesting, and useful for my job, but what really struck me was his comments at the close of his presentation. He told an anecdote about how Albert Einstein learned to overcome his deficiencies as a musician early in life when he "fell in love" with a particular classical composition. The story goes that Einstein's terrible violin talents improved immeasurably once he heard this particular song, because he was motivated to play it over and over again until he mastered it. I forget the particular piece, but, anyway, the story continues that many year later, Einstein played as a guest musician in a symphony performance of some note. One guest, surprised at Einstein's worthy talent as a musician as many people were, commented to Einstein about his surprise at the natty' scientist/inventor's musical talent.

Einstein was said to have replied "Love is a better master than duty." The consultant's point in using the story was to illustrate to us that our development of social media policies should be motivated by our desire to encourage our employees to participate, truly, because of the fun and freedom of the medium. I was delighted to hear this point of view, since one of my pet peeves about "how corporations treat people" has historically been that corporations create "bad policy" that "hurts people" more than it helps them.

I would love it if the policy I hope to influence at my own organization could adopt this philosophy "in spirit" so that, ultimately, the net effect is that people behave because we trust them to, and yet, we still have the ability to protect the corporate interest in the event people disappoint (which, of course, they always do)!

I guess I really love people, and that has been my joy in life, and--at times--my downfall as well. I usually put relationships before duty, and that is not always prudent in the corporate setting. But, I am learning the balance as I mature. I have a long way to go!

The master's class is helping me see such markers in my life, too.
But, this week, I wanted to post on this topic since it was one of those particularly compelling ("aha") moments for me. Thanks, Ron Smedley. (And Priscilla Sohn, who found him and arranged for his presentation to our group.)

Right about the robe...

It's Thursday night, and I'm four days into The Masters Project. Class did start as scheduled on Monday this week, and I was right about the robe. I mean, when I uploaded the photo of me in my bathrobe as the signature photo for this blog, I conveyed that I thought I would be spending late nights in my bedtime attire working on class assignments.

Indeed, here's an accounting of the time invested so far:
-after some initial peeks into the online course management system from work, I finally started working in the GWU online system in the evening on Monday and kept going until I was hungry. I actually stayed at the office after everyone had left, until about 7:30 p.m.  After dinner at home, I worked another hour or two in my jammies.
-Tuesday evening, I worked on online assignments from 5:30 to 6:30 in the office again, then came home and fed the family, and after cleaning up from dinner spent from 9 to midnight immersed in my first big writing assignment.
-on Wednesday, I polished up my paper, and participated in more online discussion threads long after the family had turned in...I think it was finally 1:30 a.m. when I just couldn't do any more because my brain was so "spent."
-today, being mostly done with all the writing (and re-writing and self-editing, and tweaking after completing the group project in the discussion forum), I finally took a break.

Of course, as soon as I got home from work, had dinner, helped Katie with her homework, helped Justin with his homework, and walked the dogs around the block with Katie, I showered and got into my p.j.'s and realized I was done. But, oops, had to go make the coffee. Posted on Professorbergh.blogspot.com and finally got to here!

And it's only 10:01 p.m.

I'm out...........................!

Good luck, and all that

In a recent email to sister Vicki, who lives in Houston, I was mentioning that materials had finally arrived for the first class of the Master's degree program at GW, which is scheduled to start tomorrow. Two white papers, and the first week's lesson instructions. Since it's a 100% online degree, that means I won't really ever meet the professors or my classmates--ever--but will interact with them via email, and the online community which is established primarily using Internet-based communications systems.

It made me a little nervous that the materials had arrived via email just barely in time for the class's start on Monday, but in an online-only environment it does make sense, actually.

In a traditional, on-ground course, you'd likely have the luxury of the first class meeting to get an introduction to the course, the prof and your classmates. In the online environment, especially an eight-week master's level course, you can expect to jump-start things more quickly.

I had recounted in my email to Vicki that I now had access to two "white papers"--scholarly publications written in narrative form, and describing results of research.

I had also had time to become introduced to Moodle, GW's LMS, or Learning Management System, Internet-based software used widely these days for distance learning or online classes

Using the LMS, the instructor uploads assignments, students can also upload and download files, there is a "bulletin board" which offers asynchronous discussions in a thread format, and there is also a "chat" board which offers synchronous discussions, with the instructor moderating the gathering. These distributed learning models are what makes it so easy for colleges to offer courses to anyone, anywhere, who has high-speed access to the Internet. LMS operations are hosted by the software service provider, in this case "Moodle."

At the university where I work, the LMS of choice is "Blackboard," which is apparently slightly more popular in higher ed, but is very similar in look and operation as Moodle. I have taught courses as an adjunct professor at CBU using Blackboard as the online delivery system.

Now, as a student, I am taking a class that is being delivered via Moodle. Interesting being on the other side of the learning equation.

This morning, on a totally unrelated matter, I sat outside with husband Robert for a quiet time near the pond that he built and has lovingly tended for about two years now. It's quite an ecosystem--the goldfish that started as tiny specks in the plastic-lined water habitat now dwarf the tiny guppies that school in various stages of their life cycle as new populations come and go, and the snails and water lillies continue to spruce up the murky depths.

Anyway, Robert had told me earlier in the week about a red dragonfly that had been visiting of late, that had landed on his outstretched hand at his invitation. Indeed, while we sat quietly talking, the red dragonfly appears almost as if on cue, and flits back and forth between Robert, seated on one garden bench, and me, seated on the other bench across the pond. The insect seemed to be checking us out, listening in on our conversation. Then, the bright red species landed on a fern frond, about halfway between the two of us on the perimeter of the pond. Robert then stretched out his hand.

Well, of course, the red dragonfly hesitated only slightly before landing on Robert's outstretched hand, while I sat there, appreciatively with my mouth agape. Eastern cultures consider a dragonfly landing on you as good luck...

We figured that the insect must be a female who had laid her eggs in our pond, or was considering doing so. If so, she would soon be gone, having completed her life's work. The larvae may be growing in our pond, so as Robert continues nurturing and protecting this little habitat, we will watch for them to hatch, and perhaps they will hang around and help us by eating pesky mosquitoes and flies.

Anyway, it was a nice moment. I ran inside the house to get the Canon digital camera, to take a picture of our little visitor who had settled back onto the fern frond. I've inlcuded her photo with this post...for good luck!

Finishing what you start

I saw the movie "Julie & Julia" yesterday. As always, Nora Ephron has hit a home run with her depiction of more-or-less real life, portraying side-by-side stories of a modern, young New Yorker in search of meaning in her life with that of her iconic inspirer, the unsinkable Julia Child. For those of us who are old enough to actually remember Chef/teacher Julia Child's television cooking shows (the protagonist in the story, alas, must rent old tapes of the episodes), watching Meryl Streep in the role is like watching Child herself being channeled. Delightful does not adequately describe Streep's genius. And, oh, message to Julie Powell, author of the blog/book on whose story the movie is based: Julia still belongs to us...!

Certainly the movie must have inspired more than its share of foodies, those who left the theaters eager to buy "Mastering the Art of French Cooking," Chef Child's voluminous achievement. Or, curious about Child's life and art, many may have Googled related topics in order to learn more about her, or Powell and her original blog.

And, no doubt, the movie's broader appeal could be found in the loving, supportive, food-centered lives of the couples portrayed on the screen.

But, as I experienced the film by myself on my 50th birthday, I related most to one of the underlying themes: that of finishing what you start. Julie Powell's character in the film despairs that she has "attention deficit disorder" and that is her excuse, perhaps, for her lack of focus in life and her lack of dedication to any passion or fulfillment of her own potential.

Here I am, starting an online master's degree program, the Master of Science in Strategic Public Relations at George Washington University, feeling pressed into some need for "personal achievement" or "advancement" due to my stalled career as a communications administrator in higher education.

I must say, after all those years of coaching others (see http://www.praxiscoaching.com/), I wonder where my own motivation lies. I have proposed for years that anyone can learn and achieve the desired level of mastery in a skill or competency (or in this case, an academic achievement), with the proper motivation, supporting systems, practice and perseverance.

This blog proposes to follow my own journey, at age 50, starting a master's degree program I never thought I needed, and never really wanted to do.

Damn those inspiring movies! (That will be my first, and last, curse word for the blog. I generally do not find the sprinkling of expletives in my discourse useful or necessary.)

Here goes...!