I attended the Intersect Symposium on Innovation last week in MKE. It was a great event, with some impressive speakers from Kraft, GE, Johnson Controls, Harvard Business School, Frog, etc. Not to mention the great group of attendees that were made up of all types and sizes of companies, businesses and organizations. We were all focused on one thing; we know we have to, but how do we be more innovative.

Many of the talks focused on how their companies have taken innovation head on; what learnings they had and some general guidelines for things to think about as an organization. How do we  approach this new frontier of optimizing an established business model and supporting unchartered exploration, all under the same roof.

As I listened, absorbed and eavesdropped on all the conversations, one idea started to crystalize. One of the key lessons across all the speakers was that innovation in any company required shifts in multiple areas, processes and people, and had to be tailored for that company. It is this intersection of people, what they are doing and why they are doing it that has proven a followable path. Sounded familiar to me. What became clear is that not just the activities of participating in innovation were important but designing the experience of participating was critical to success.

The term User Experience (UX) has meant a lot of different things to a lot of different people. Called by many terms and truly understood by few, the art of UX, at its core is the ability to see all the influences and how they intertwine to deliver an outcome. As a long time student of UX, I have learned over time that the core elements of the discipline are not only found in interface design or usability. It truly is the design of emotion, perception and interaction of people, as they engage with other people, places and things and the environment in which it occurs. And with that definition, the UX discipline can be a valuable tool in a plethora of problem/solution  situations… such as cultivating innovation in an organization.

It’s not just the steps, the activities or the new org structures that can be leaned on to carry this new initiative. We have to look at the emotions in play and how they can be helpful—or harmful—to innovation. We have to have eyes wide open to the perception of such changes. It’s impossible to help people adopt new ways of thinking when we don’t understand how they currently think. And we have to actively design interactions and guidance. Throwing people in a room with post its, whiteboards and markers and saying “go” has not worked well for many organizations. You have to know your people, how they operate in your environment and how to frame newness on their terms to free your talent to innovate.

It starts with a story. Write out what you want the experience of innovation to be within your organization. What does it feel like, look like, sound like? Start there, and you will have a solid foundation on which to formalize the tactics and processes that will serve your business.

You may have noticed that our culture is enamored with claiming success by getting a task done or hitting a predetermined target:

“She’s carrying a 3.8 GPA.”

“They announced earnings of $1.56 per share.”

“It’s set to launch by the end of Q1.”

If we can move it from the inbox to the outbox, victory is declared. If the “expectations market” has been addressed, we can breathe a sigh of relief. The reason we do this is because this is how everyone else does it, and how it’s always been done. We focus on tasks. And while tasks are not always easy to perform, the act of doing them is easy to understand.

It’s not like all these tasks are getting us nowhere. They’re getting us somewhere, but we’re not exactly sure where that is. Is it closer to where we want to be? Is it at least in the right direction?

The Educational Assembly Line

Few would argue that our educational system needs rethinking. Our current model was built to train workers, preparing them to be interchangeable cogs that fed a vast managed manufacturing economy. This system values averages and test scores. A standard has to be maintained. But this type of learning no longer prepares children for the world in which they will need to compete in—a world in which their defined competition has changed.

I realize that I may be in a lucky minority, but upwards of 75% of my work life is spent working collaboratively. My son Charlie is currently a senior at Whitefish Bay, one of the better school districts in the state. When I asked him how much of his school day is spent working collaboratively, he responded somewhat derisively “less than 5%.” If our country’s economic competitive edge hinges on our ability to innovate, that’s a pretty big issue.

“If we keep teaching the same way, can we
expect different results?”
—harriettball.com

President Obama has asked that we allow schools the flexibility “To teach with creativity and passion; to stop teaching to the test.” There is no better example than the breakthrough teaching strategies pioneered by the late Harriet Ball which champion teaching styles that best suit and captivate the interest of each student. Her Fearless Learning method understands that as humans we absorb information in multiple ways—via audio, visual, tactile, and kinesthetic. This approach enables each student equal access to learning because they are taught in their strongest learning mode. That’s a big departure from assembly line education, a process—perhaps not by accident—that has created an educational caste structure in our country. In their landmark book Making Connections: Teaching and the Human Brain, Caine and Caine establish the Principles of Brain-Based Learning which include the following discoveries: Learners learn by seeking connections to what they already know; The brain seeks patterns; Each brain is unique, and since learning changes the brain, the more we learn the more unique we become. That sounds like a road map for learning in the connection/innovation age.

Some might argue that in the “real world” everything isn’t tailored to the individual, so why should education? But if digital age has taught us anything, it is that mass is no longer the norm. Content is no longer a scarcity, and no longer the proprietary property of media companies and publishers. We get exactly what we want, when we want it. If user-centric is becoming a widely agreed upon practice, shouldn’t student-centric be the next big thing?

Conventional Wisdom, Inc.

In a brilliant Forbes piece from earlier this year, Steven Denning begins the article with an excerpt from the book Fixing the Game:

“Imagine an NFL coach,” writes Roger Martin, Dean of the Rotman School of Management at the University of Toronto, in his important new book, Fixing the Game, “holding a press conference on Wednesday to announce that he predicts a win by 9 points on Sunday, and that bettors should recognize that the current spread of 6 points is too low. Or picture the team’s quarterback standing up in the postgame press conference and apologizing for having only won by 3 points when the final betting spread was 9 points in his team’s favor. While it’s laughable to imagine coaches or quarterbacks doing so, CEOs are expected to do both of these things.”

If you’re like me, you probably read an endless amount of books and articles on innovative companies—how they think, how they do business, and how they delight their customers. But we are in the minority. In the world of large, publicly held corporations, more often than not business decisions are made on maximizing shareholder value. This management philosophy leads to a shareholder-centric focus instead of a customer-centric focus.

Innovation-driven companies are predominantly customer-centric, focusing on the real reason a business exists: There is only one valid definition of a business purpose: to create a customer. But even in the startup community how often are the stories—“they just closed their round”—about an output? The preferred outcome of course, is an exit. This makes me wish for more voices like Jason Fried in the startup community. His metrics are all outcome based: Are you profitable? Are you building something great? Are you taking care of your people? Are you treating your customers well?

The Marketing Factory

Until very recently, in order to market a product you needed a great amount of advertising. So your outputs were TV, print, radio, outdoor, and direct mail. Line up the right agency(s) to do the creative, launch, and repeat with another new “integrated” campaign in 12 months. Then technology threw us web, mobile, social, etc. etc., so there were even more outputs to deal with. All of these tasks needed to be integrated. But in essence, none of these tactics have ever really been very well integrated at all, just a loosely strung together series of stunts.

These outputs are products of the marketing industry’s assembly line. The challenge is we are now in the connection age, and there is a greater need for the unique ability to see the bigger picture. Outputs no longer reliably lead to outcomes now that there is competition from a million different voices using a million different devices.

Many organizational cultures dictate that none of the output creation can even begin without the SOW (Scope of Work). The time put into specifying “What exactly do I get for my money?” is often more valued and scrutinized than any outcome the work will deliver upon. Partners are judged and evaluated based on what outputs their SOW will provide, not the possibilities of the outcomes they can produce for the business. The granularity demanded for these documents often leaves no room for fluidity, the ability to pivot based on findings, or providing flexibility for exploration down a newly discovered path.

What if?

The connection economy rewards the leader, the initiator, and the rebel.
—The Icarus Deception

So.

What if a school turned out a graduating class without a cumulative grade average, but a cumulative story of problems solved? Or a measurement of the dots students connected between music and mathematics? Or the number of common threads discovered between art and science?

What if you could major in being a pirate? Or instead, the most sought after employees didn’t have an MBA, but an MPS—Master of Problem Solving?

What if we stopped measuring returns solely as financial? What if a company published charts that measured growth in learnings v. earnings over a 1 yr, 5 yr and 10 yr period? What if a business had a balance sheet for measuring connections? Or experience? Or art?

What if marketing wasn’t so “stunt-driven”, but built on messages, experiences and touch points that all created a unified brand experience platform? What if we started measuring brand utility in addition to brand awareness and affinity.

When you approach the work you’re doing today, are you just delivering outputs? Or can you be afforded the chance to take a step back, ask why things are done the way they are, and then deliver on a bigger, greater outcome? Think bigger. Go higher. Connect the dots. See the common threads. Think, plan, and create for an outcome.

The world is drowning in outputs. What it needs is better outcomes.

I have vague memories from the late 1960s of a classmate in elementary school. His name was Johnny. We all liked Johnny, he was just different from the rest of us. He talked funny. He was kinda clumsy. And he didn’t do real well in school. On the playground, he would pretend he was a race car. Not a race car driver, but the actual car. He would run around and around in circles. I never really remember him playing baseball or football with us. He always just off to the side. An island to himself.

I reflected on this childhood memory on Sunday, November 18th, the day we completed the four week pilot program for Islands of Brilliance. To the inevitable question of “How did it go?,” my response would be:

It was good.

Not great, not amazing, not awesome, not wonderful, not wildly successful? Just good?? “Good“ as in the choice between average and excellent in an online rating? Surely there is a more hyperbolic word I could use.

No. It was good.

Good in the very deep meaning of that word. Good in the human of it. Good in something that is indescribable and big, that you can’t possibly wrap your head around immediately. The good that you feel in quiet. Good as it is rarely found nowadays.

If you are unfamiliar with our Islands of Brilliance pilot program, you can read more about the story behind it and how it came to be here, here, and here. Here is a description of the program in a nutshell:

• Islands of Brilliance is a learning workshop developed for children with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). Curriculum is individualized to foster each student’s creativity through the use of software & technology.
• Each student is matched with their own creative mentor—a professional in the design field—who shows them how to use software programs like Photoshop and Illustrator to create pictures and stories about their favorite subjects.
• Paraprofessionals are an important part of every class—to provide assistance and help smooth out any bumps in the road students might have.

Through a partnership with Discovery World, we were able to utilize their digital print lab to pilot the program without having the costs of equipment, software and space. (Our experience in the lean startup process and our background in UX helped guide our thinking in terms of prototyping the project). The wonderful connections of our good friend Erica Conway provided us with more volunteer creative mentors than we could have hoped for. We kept the pilot group to seven students, which we felt was manageable and that would allow us to stay focused on what we needed to learn and improve on.

The week prior to the program starting, we met with our seven creative mentors to go over curriculum and talk about the unknown challenges we would face. I told them, “we are really entering uncharted waters here.” For me personally, there was both excitement and anxiety leading up to the first class. I saw this as a positive, because certainty is either a sign of over-confidence, or an indication that you’re executing the tried and true. We had an untested hypothesis on something that hadn’t been done before. We had written user stories to think through the workshop experience, thought and planned out the curriculum, but we knew once student and mentor got to working together, the real learning would begin—for us.

This is how it went.

The first day of class
To look back and think that students and mentors were total strangers is odd to me now. In my mind, I now see them as teams, even friends. Based on the background information we provided the mentors the previous week, each team got right to work on their project together. It was my role to circulate through the room, listening, documenting, and helping out wherever necessary.

Sketching and collaboration

Basically, I was a witness.

I am still at a loss for words for how to describe this. As students and mentors inhabited our conceptual framework, magic began to happen. When an idea begins to live and breathe, when the idiosyncratic and the unexpected happen, when the wonderful creativity of children takes over, it’s breathtaking. In the first 90 minutes, students and mentors showed that this idea was much bigger in their hands then it was in our heads. We had thought we would be teaching our students some fun, useful software skills. Instead what happened was a team of two sharing, collaborating, sketching, and storytelling. Real bonds were being created.

After class, we all debriefed as a group—staff, mentors, and paraprofessionals. We went over the needs of each student. What worked, what didn’t, what could we do to make each team more successful. We worked together as a group to develop strategies for the next class for each student to ensure the best experience. This was the most committed, collaborative team I’ve ever been a part of.

Learning
There is a moment you know you have hit on something. That moment came about 10 minutes before the scheduled start of our second class. Five of our students had already arrived, immediately sat down next to their mentors, and went right to work. If you have not worked or known children with ASD, it is hard to describe the emotion in this moment. Children with ASD struggle with connection. And there right before our eyes, they proved that an immediate connection had been made with their mentor and the work that they were doing. Children with ASD struggle with social interaction and often have a lack of interest in many of the programs that are created for them. In this moment, we found that we had succeeded in addressing both.

10 minutes before the “start” of class

Through the course of the program we learned that flexibility, resourcefulness, and patience were key. Each student had strengths, and each student had limits. Having a team that could respond and improvise in any given a situation (I call this quality IFTTW) is a key. I liken our traditional educational process to our interstate system—built to serve a large number of travelers in the most efficient way at the fastest speed possible. Children with ASD don’t fare well in this “interstate” system. Their educational journey may involve taking backroads, hiking trails, and paddling up rivers. In time, they may reach the same destination, it just takes a different route, and it may take a bit longer. But there is unexpected, often breathtaking beauty on this unplanned path.

Week four came so fast. The final class of the pilot project was bittersweet. All of our students completed and printed their projects—an 18″x24″ poster. They shared them with their classmates, mentors and parents. Their was so much pride in what they had each accomplished. We had come to know and love each and every one of our students, but now this chapter was ending. The feeling of good that day is difficult for me to describe.

Success

This is the most important project I have worked on in my life. To have completed it, and to have parents rave about the experience we created for their children is nothing short of humbling. Our plans are to take our learnings and feedback and scale the program so that we make the program available to more children and families in 2013.

As a member of the creative class, I think I can say that we are too preoccupied with ownership. It was my idea. It was her idea. They came up with the big idea. So much ownership assigned to something that is barely tangible, a whisper in your head. Islands of Brilliance was my experience of what happens when you step aside, and let others inhabit an idea. Over the course of four weeks, the idea gradually owned us. I think that’s when an idea becomes a belief.

It has been a long journey to get to the point of being able to write this. This project, depending on how you look at it is either four years in the making—when the dots connected for the idea—or 12 years in the making, when my son Harry was diagnosed with ASD. To get here, having experienced all the highs and lows as a parent, and then the fits and starts of how to get this project off the ground is quite a story. These are the people who I am ever grateful to for coauthoring the story.

Matt Juzenas, Erin Doty, Blake Himsl Hunter, Gina Ferrise, Patrick Blend, Tia Richardson, and Nate Fehlauer, our incredible mentors. Words fall short for what I feel about what they’ve accomplished. They are brave explorers, every one of them.

Meara Young, Ashlea McKlinsky, Ally Fergoso, Ayesha Teague all volunteered as paraprofessionals. Their insights and support were invaluable.

Cindi Thomas and Kirsten Corbell took me seriously when I said that I thought Translator had a greater part to play in the world, that we could do social good, that we could make a  impact in education. Islands was a project that would make our first mark doing that. Kirsten personally took charge of the program management, because of her interest in progressive education. Cindi has always championed exploring the limits of who we are and what we can do. I think she’s a bit proud of this project.

Finally, my wife Margaret played the critical role of what I call the “headmaster” (headmistress??) of the program. Her skills as a special education teacher—love, enthusiasm, and patience—were key to making the program successful. It was incredible to be able to work together on this.

I write this post on the one year anniversary of getting two minutes to stand up in front of the attendees at Seth Godin’s Medicine Ball Sessions and describe my vision of wanting to launch a creative camp for children with autism. Six people volunteered to brainstorm with me that night to help get it closer to becoming a reality. I do believe that experience unlocked unseen tumblers in the universe that led to Islands of Brilliance launching this year. It also comes the day after the announcement of The Icarus Sessions, organized by Seth Godin. The assignment for participants is—in 140 seconds or less—tell the story about something you’ve made. What have you created? What frightened you? What matters?

My story goes something like this: I was part of a fearless group of people, we set off into uncharted waters, and we found our own little island.

It was good.

————-

To see more photos of the Islands of Brilliance pilot program, visit our Facebook page.

First things first, please.

No.

Your business needs:

… a clearly understood problem it is solving.

… a product or service that addresses that problem in a manner that delights customers to the point of surprise.

… an amazing team that believes in it.

… a visionary(s) and leader(s).

… a personality, a brand and a conscious.

… a viable business model.

… a collaborative environment that fosters trial and error.

… a designed culture that makes all the above happen.

Focus on these things first and Facebook gets a whole lot easier.

In the MVP model, the cardboard cutout is being judged on its ability to connect with users.

The startup world is all a twitter (see what I did there?) with the utilization of the MVP (minimum viable product) approach to launching new ideas. If you aren’t familiar with the MVP, check out a few definitions here and here for context. In a nutshell, the MVP is a streamlined version of a full fledged idea that incorporates only the core pieces of a product, platform or program that represent the functionality and differentiating features of the idea. There’s so much to discuss around this approach, including the much needed course correction in thinking to solutions it has provided, as well as the grossly misunderstood meaning of the MVP and its contribution to the failing of many ideas. We could debate that for hours, but the one thing I want to address is the missing link that the MVP teachings has yet to address.

Often the MVP is solely focused on the product itself… the website, app, etc. In launching an MVP very often business modeling is in its early stages, customer definition and engagement is in its infancy, and use of the MVP product is the driver to inform decisions surrounding these elements of the ultimate business to be built. All attention is focused on the tangible product and its usage to drive decision making. Makes sense on the surface, but a tremendous gap is left in terms of valid data being gathered on sentiment and usage of the product.

The gap is in the lack of recognition of the influence of the brand wrapped around a product or idea that is being trialed.

Yes logos are developed, and visual layers are added to the products, but very often there is no attention payed to what this idea is meant to mean to its users… which ultimately is the role of a brand. This work is left on the table until much later in the business’s maturity.

All too often we put products into the market with not enough thought in regards to what it represents for the people we want to use it. It’s the difference between putting a cardboard cutout of yourself in the middle of a party vs you. Sure people will get an idea of what you look like—maybe even some of your mannerisms based on poses—but they will not know whether they want to hang out and chat with you. Yet in the MVP model, the cardboard cutout is being judged on its ability to connect with those in the room. Even worse, the person whose image is represented is being judged for their relevance based on the interaction of its cardboard counterpart. Doesn’t seem like a recipe for success to me.

Branding work has been overlooked as a “nice to have” in the startup world. Much of the reason has to do with the focus on the product alone. There is a misconception about the influence brand has on product acceptance, as well as the assumptions that branding work—much like marketing—are side projects to be thought about once the product proves itself in the market. All of this is false. It all works together. And if one is not addressed in the context of the others, the data gathered will be inherently flawed.

But I will concede that traditional branding work has been reserved for the elite few, which has contributed to the shelving of brand development in the startup world. But I argue that it does not need to be an unattainable part of a smartly designed MVP launch. The same principles that drive the notion of a minimum viable product can and should be applied to the brand that product represents. Part of the startup launch should be figuring out the MVB—Minimum Viable Brand—of the company or product, and utilizing that MVB as an asset to establish learnings in the field. Just like the product model, the MVB should be developed to represent the core features of the brand: those elements that without, there would essentially be no idea. It should focus on communicating an essence or feel of a personality without tying it too tightly to one character trait or another, allowing the same flexibility in evolving the brand as the MVP allows in evolving the product. It should be a hired actor in the room instead of the cardboard cutout. One who can read the room, interact in the role, and balance the character with the needs of those they interact with. There’s a lot more feedback that will be brought back from the actor than the cutout.

So how do you develop an MVB? The art and science of branding is well established. Done correctly, it’s rooted in psychology and human behavior as much as it is in creativity and business outcomes. The same principles that go into scoping and developing your MVP should be applied to the MVB. As a starting point, try answering these questions and see how the exercise may or may not change your decisions on features presentation, visual design and tone of communication:

• What problem is the product solving?
• What mindspace would the user put the problem in? (urgent, emotional, hero making, etc)
• What sentiments are going to support that type of solution? (familiarity and trust, new and cutting edge, utility vs exploratory)
• What adjectives represent those sentiments? (playful, corporate, high-tech, professional, snarky)
• What visual direction and message tone support those adjectives?

It’s a short list. And by no means is an end answer. But the exercise will start to paint a picture that will support the idea’s differentiators, and will be a tool to use in unifying decisions and capitalizing on benefits of developing a brand, not just a logo.

The back end dev work on the functionality of this button is still in progress

If only the world were that simple.

The irony is, many of us have been educated and act as if we live in a world that runs on IFTTT-based principles. Seth Godin tells the perfect story about an IFTTT industry that was destroyed in the span of three years. Even science, which defines the conditions under which life can exist through a human lens, gets thrown a loop when some newly discovered bacteria thrives in arsenic.

The world we live in ignores protocol in favor unpredictability. We need to design our behaviors and thinking to deal with what I call IFTTW—If This Then What?

As much as I like a well-conceived strategy, I’m becoming more enamored with the guile of adaptability and resourcefulness. It’s becoming less about the plan, and more about the makeup of your team. This scene from Apollo 13 epitomizes IFTTW thinking.

Certainly you’ve worked with IFTTT personalities—people who need rigid structure in order to function at a high level. The engineer or developer who tells you it can’t be done that way. The teacher who says follow the instructions I’ve laid out. The CEO who insists “This is the way we do things here.” Then there’s another group of thinkers who are able to assess an unseen situation and improvise a solution. I would argue that in today’s digital world—where new technology regularly turns things upside down—the latter group is far more valuable.

In addition to a plan, learn new thinking patterns and create new habits that make you more agile and better able to deal with uncertainty. A team of IFTTW thinkers will be ready for anything.

Has your business or organization encountered an IFTTW situation? (I know we’ve experienced several here at Translator). If so, how did you deal with it?

… people hear the exact same words you do, but walk away with completely different meaning?

… we say we stand for one thing, yet it’s so easy to act in contradictory manner?

… the default is ok?

… we search for inspiration, yet squander opportunity?

… choose to believe others over our own intuition?

… we don’t do what we know should be done?

… we fail to ask “why” more often before accepting things as fact?

… we don’t ask these same questions regarding our own businesses/brands?

Just some thoughts. What are yours?

1. REDEFINE CREATIVITY
2. LEARNING IS EVERYWHERE
3. SIDE PROJECTS
4. GO AHEAD, STEAL
5. GET COMFORTABLE WITH BEING UNCOMFORTABLE
6. MAKE SOMETHING

Also not too long ago, I received an email from my friend Mike Rohde introducing Austin Kleon and his agent to Translator, noting “I think Translator’s space would be ideal for an event when Austin visits Milwaukee.” In Steal Like An Artist, Austin writes the book contains “things I’ve learned over almost a decade of trying to figure out how to make art.” The chapters are titled:

1. STEAL LIKE AN ARTIST.
2. DON’T WAIT UNTIL YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE TO GET STARTED.
3. WRITE THE BOOK YOU WANT TO READ.
4. USE YOUR HANDS.
5. SIDE PROJECTS AND HOBBIES ARE IMPORTANT.
6. THE SECRET: DO GOOD WORK AND SHARE IT WITH PEOPLE.
7. GEOGRAPHY IS NO LONGER OUR MASTER.
8. BE NICE. (THE WORLD IS A SMALL TOWN.)
9. BE BORING. (IT’S THE ONLY WAY TO GET WORK DONE.)
10. CREATIVITY IS SUBTRACTION.

Huh. I’m pretty sure I like this guy.

Well, tomorrow is your chance to meet Austin Kleon as we discuss his wonderful book Steal Like An Artist at Translator from Noon ’til 2pm. Steal Like An Artist is an owner’s manual for anyone looking to inject creativity into their life and work, which—as Austin correctly points out—should be everyone. This is a book you’ll want to keep with you in your backpack at all times. It is a book that will perhaps look best having been rained on, having coffee (and wine) spilled on it, and festooned with post-it notes, doodles, and multiple underlined passages.

Here are but a few of my favorite excerpts:

There’s an economic theory out there that if you take the incomes of your five closest friends and average them, the resulting number will be pretty close to your own income. I think the same thing is true of our idea incomes. You’re only going to be as good as the stuff you surround yourself with.

How do I love that? Let me count the ways. At a previous place of employment, I was called a “job-hopper” by one of the owners after receiving an offer to join another firm as an equity partner. (I averaged about a 3 year stay per agency over the course of my advertising career, which I believe is fairly normal). I speculate that this comment was made to suggest I was always on the lookout for more income, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I transitioned from jobs when I felt there was no longer anything I could learn, which made some moves quite difficult because of the close friendships I had formed.  But in order to continually grow, we must be pushed by the people who surround us, and that involves seeking out those that we can learn from. Just as a distance runner will get no better by continually winning races against less talented competitors, we excel when side by side with the best.

I have two desks in my office—one is “analog” and one is “digital.” The analog has nothing but markers, pens, pencils, paper, index cards, and newspaper. Nothing electronic is allowed on that desk.

I am carving out an area at Translator to do this. I may add LEGOs to my desk. I took a spring course this year at MIAD taught by Mitch Mortimer called “Dynamic Cartooning.” It reminded me how much I loved to draw. Not just thumbnail draw, which most of my work springs from, but actually study, sketch, erase, study, redraw, polish. Not working with your fingertips on a keypad, but feeling the freedom of your hand and arm as it captures motion and weight in a drawing. Making things with our hands is what we did as children, and it’s at the core of creative thinking. Get up from your laptop. Put away your smartphone. Grab a sketchbook. Cut some paper with a scissors. Glue something together. You’ll be amazed at how it makes you feel—and think.

The manifesto is this: Draw the art you want to see, start the business you want to run, play the music you want to hear, write the books you want to read, build the products you want to use—do the work you want to see done.

That’s good stuff. I can say without hesitation it’s what every one of us at Translator believes. Together we create the company we all want to work at. It may be unconventional and undefinable at times, but that’s okay. It allows us to have open lab hours, be inspired by what’s happening in our community, and launch XSMKE—which in turn allows us to welcome kindred spirits like Austin Kleon to talk about the magic of it all.

I hope you can come hang out with Austin tomorrow for a conversation I’m really looking forward to about Steal Like An Artist. You can still register here. If you can’t make it to Translator at noon, you can catch Austin at Spreenkler at 7:30am, and Boswell Books at 7pm.

XSMKE: Steal Like An Artist is made possible with the help of our sponsors 800ceoread, Milwaukee Brewing Company, and Mandel Group.

———————————————–

On a related note, I’ll be leading a conversation called Getting Comfortable With Being Uncomfortable at the Web414 Meetup this Thursday 5/10, 7pm at Bucketworks. Details here.

“I really haven’t accomplished enough to be able to mentor someone else.”

“The skills/position/experience/(fill in the blank) really isn’t mentoring worthy.”

“I wouldn’t know where to begin with a mentoring process.”

It’s not true. Everyone has something that is completely unique, that they are experts in that no one else can claim. That is the story of their own experience. When you share your story a relationship is formed, and you put on the table examples, learnings and inspiration that only you can. It doesn’t matter if what you share is directly relatable in terms of topic or question to those listening. When you share your story connections will be made and new, usable perspectives will be uncovered that can help inform and guide the questions or struggles the audience may be experiencing.

I have experienced this personally. I had the opportunity recently to speak to the Women’s Entrepreneurial Leadership class at George Washington University. I, like most, spun for a while on what I could share or teach that would seem worthy for the class to spend their time on. In the end, I decided to simply tell my story. My background, my journey, my decisions and what I learned from them. Where I succeeded, and where I fell. The dialog, appreciation and feedback I received from the class was amazing and humbling. I had helped, and it was so easy.

We need more people to step up and mentor. It’s the most effective and meaningful way to learn. There is a secret though–It must be your story, and not a report on chronological events. Timelines and resumes do not equate to experiences, and the nuances of experience are where connections and learning occur. So share your stories. And ask for others to to share theirs. Learning is a two-way flow. You will be amazed by how easy it is, and how impactful it can be.

Add “mentor” to your list of accomplishments. It’s a worthy goal.

I’ve written previously about what you can learn by stripping things down to the bare minimum. So, as my business partner @deziner often asks, what are the learnings from this particular instance?

Whether it’s a status update or a tweet, you are essentially telling a micro-story. When you edit it all the way down to one word, it invites everyone to imagine and create the rest of the story. They must fill in the blanks. So, when I posted “Wings,” John Sprecher scribed “Buffalo or Paul McCartney and…?”

At it’s heart, this is what social media is all about—shared storytelling. A user shares an experience that friends and followers then participate in based on their own experience.

From a brand perspective, this is one of the most overlooked, misunderstood, and underutilized aspects of social media. Shared storytelling has been going on since humans gathered around a fire. Stories are retold (The Odyssey), re-imagined (Romeo & Juliet becomes West Side Story) and repurposed (Petroglyphs as done by Paul Klee).

I often wonder why so many in marketing still cling to the hope that they alone should control the story. The only reason I can see is if your brand story never held any truth in the first place.