Everyone in my neighborhood knows Clarence (and his dog Oscar). Clarence is the disabled man who lives across the street. He possesses little, has no financial advisor, personal development plan or professional network, and owns no vehicle. His body denies him the skill we all take for granted, but even if he could drive, he could not afford a car. Yet every morning, in sun, rain, sleet, or hail, the entire neighborhood sees Clarence, either painstakingly walking Oscar, or more often, sitting on his porch, shouting phrases to everyone as they leave for work. He knows each of us by name, and each of us has our custom greeting. Mine happens to be “Good Morning, Miss Marianne, and have a blessed day!”
Until one day, it wasn’t. Clarence spent a week in the hospital with a collapsed lung. Something was off during that week. Is it just magical thinking, or were my days really a little less blessed? Clarence has one job, and while it’s just a small job, it’s the piece that transforms a block of houses into a neighborhood. His absence made a difference, and there was no one to fill the void. Clarence, as it turns out, is an influencer. In capital letters: an INFLUENCER.
As Agilists, this is our goal as well. We embrace a mindset of change. We bring an enthusiastic willingness to do the next right thing, bringing with us a toolbox that includes transparency, honesty, and team empowerment, followed by regular inspection, adaptation, introspection, and adapting yet again. But sometimes, if our efforts offend someone, or we identify an anti-pattern in someone with more power than we have, we meet a wall of resistance. We discover that we work in a culture where everyone can talk Agile, but not everyone is willing to walk Agile. Changing from the status quo to the unknown is unsettling.
Fear is the greatest enemy of change. When people fear losing something — their power, their reputation, or most frightening of all, their livelihood, they resist change.
In our Agile communities, we joyfully share our successes, and sometimes even our frustrations with impediments to our Agility, but sharing our failures comes with a touch of shame. We try so hard to do the next right thing, but how many of us have heard variations of “You don’t have the authority to make that decision,” “You need to get this team’s velocity up by fifty percent by the end of the year,” “Don’t push back too hard,” or “The team wants to do WHAT? Absolutely not!”? We feel discouraged. We fear we’re doing it wrong. It’s tough to fight the “CYA, not-my-fault, look-over-there” mentality that thrives alongside fear.
How many of us have turned to trusted advisors, because we depend on the members of our leadership teams to hear us, only to receive a stinkbug in return, turning “discouraged” into “demoralized”? We are not alone. There are times when it’s hard to move forward in a demoralized state, and difficult to let go and trust in the process that we all have seen succeed. Face it, no matter how well the Agile mindset works, and no matter how well we work with our teams, we don’t all wield the authority and reputation of Ken Schwaber or Jeff Sutherland.
We can’t force change.
In Agile Heaven, all of our teams are colocated, cohesive, and sustainable. We’ve all had those teams, but at that stage, they don’t need coaches anymore. On Agile Earth, we often have to put on our armor and go to battle, even when we know that battle may be lost because the fear of the unknown is greater than the willingness to change. So now what?
Clarence has one job, and his job is to inspire, encourage, and motivate. He takes his role seriously and he shows up every day. His influence may seem as fleeting as a butterfly, but it manifests a Butterfly Effect. When he isn’t there, the neighborhood reverts to its legacy state: a block of houses. When we, as Agilists feel we have no influence, or that we are not empowered to effect change, we still need to show up. We need to plant the seed. Clarence may not know how large his influence is, but he plants the seed anyway.
There’s an old story about a small bird that a traveler discovered lying on its back in the road with its little claws pointing skyward. It’s been told many times, and different versions have appeared in a number of books. My favorite is the one that Maureen McKew attributes to Msgr. Francis Costello.
The traveler looked down at the frail little bird in his path and asked, “Little bird, what are you doing?” “Sir,” the bird responded, “I have heard that the sky is going to fall and I am trying to prevent this.” The traveler was stunned. “But you are just a little bird. Do you really think that you can stop the sky from falling?” The bird was silent for a moment and then she answered. “No sir, I do not, but one does what one can.”
And this is what Agilists do on Agile Earth: We show up, and we do what we can.
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