-Matt Lien
Learning from Success and Failure
The final chapter in Give Smart deals with measuring success with an emphasis on constant evaluation and improvement. Reading through the stories of failed and successful projects me relive, all too well, the projects I’ve been a part of since coming to AU. Some of the projects completed their stated mission. Others failed, sometimes badly. But my measure for the success of a project is whether or not I can do the project better than when I started. This is what makes a project successful. In essence, a successful failure is a failed project which I have learned how to do something better and a failed success is project where I have not identified an area for improvement despite completing the stated goal.
My mission is to constantly improve. As a student, I must take this time to try and fail. I feel fortunate that I have had the opportunities to take risks. I have no regrets about failing and I am very proud of my successes. But it is very difficult to rate a project a project in the binary terms of success or failure. Take for example, my work with FDDS through our submissions to the Clinton Global Initiative University. When I chaired our submissions CGI-U, one project, Fotosynthesis, was accepted and two other projects were rejected. How do we measure this year-long project? Success? Failure? One success and two failures? I find it too difficult to measure that experience in black and white.
I can tell you that I am proud to have helped Fotosynthesis get off the ground. Everyone involved with that program should be proud of what they have, and will, accomplish. But the other two projects, a medical related group and a high school mock trial program in DC, never materialized into more than an idea. But I can’t call them failures. Members of these projects took the skeletons of these projects and have worked to bring them back to life. The Scholars 4 Progress high school mentorship program would not exist in the form it does today had members of FDDS not created a “failed” proposal to FDDS.
And this is just the looking at the projects in and of themselves. I can say that I and the other members of FDDS are better planners, writers, budgeters, programs, teammates, and leaders because of our experience. So when looking at my CGI-U experience holistically, I’d call them successful. Whether they are successful successes or successful failures is irrelevant to me.
I cannot say I’ve experienced a failed success or a project where I complete a stated goal but have not learned a skill or area for improvement. A failed success is a function of a person’s unwillingness to think critically about their experience.
Therefore, I strive to look forward. Concerning the projects I’m involved with now, I would evaluate my learning experiences as highly successful. My internship, classes, and mentor relationships with younger FDDS students I am excited to learn and engage in new challenge every day.
As I try to make the most of my opportunities, I find it difficult to narrow down my experiences to a “next move.” This is why I am trying to identify how and why I choose certain opportunities in order to take better risks. This is my next endeavor and I hope that it will ultimately lead to the next series of trial and error that I devote myself to over the coming months.
- Matt Lien
Taking Risks
Life can sometimes be like a hospital’s triage unit. Need often dictates who or what gets the most attention. I try to maintain my existing commitments and take on additional projects as I am able to. This means that I constantly need to be assessing two kinds of risk: the risk of passing up a new opportunity and the risk of putting to many resources into a dying project. In this way, I see risk assessment as a managerial rather than leadership task.
Since I do not have a lot of money to invest, the resources I usually risk my time and social/political capital. When assessing risk, already existing projects take priority. I’ve already invested quite a bit of time into projects like my academics at AU, FDDS, my internships, DC Students Speak, and Students for DC Statehood. If something comes up which requires me to devote time or social capital, I take into account what I’ve already put into a project, how much responsibility I have to the project, and what commitment the project currently needs. I was pleased to learn the Give $mart puts a similar emphasis on assessing the needs and responsibility of a philanthropist to a project. If I deem an investment worthwhile, I will make the commitment. If I do not feel an investment as worthwhile, it raises serious questions as to the viability of the project. In other words, when I stop seeing the value of putting time and work into a project (which is not often) I need to rethink my role in that organization.
Because I prefer building on existing long-term projects instead of constantly taking on short-term projects, I’m fairly conservative in deciding when to take on something new. I assess most of the risk on the front end by deciding if I have the resources to commit long-term. If an opportunity seems so great that I need to take on a new project, I also need to figure out what existing project will get dropped. The difference between time and money is that time is finite. I can’t raise more time in the same way I can raise more money. This means I need to be stringent in figuring out who gets what.
My criteria from moving “will do” to “have done” follows a similar thought process. I commit to existing projects first and try to strike a balance between the importance, urgency, and desire to commit to a project. This means that I often say “no” to new things and “yes” to things I’ve worked on in the past. I feel this has allowed me to build social capital because I’ve become established as an expert in a certain issue area. This makes the “asks” easier. As the book describes, this is a smart leveraging of my existing finite resources.
This model for assessing risk is good but requires constant reflection. Most importantly, I need to think and rethink what opportunities I’m implicitly passing up to maintain my current projects. I think this is good because I’m not afraid to drop something and move on. This reflective process however requires me to ask the hard questions.
-Matt Lien
All the Small Things
My Junior Year at AU has been about exceeding my own expectations. My first two years in FDDS were centered around a “strengths based” skill building approach that required me to bide my time and deliberately grow each project I took on. My third and fourth years in FDDS have shifted the model to a “weakness based” approach. Now, my goal is to tackle my deficiencies through rapid confrontation. This means I’m out of my comfort zone with most of the things I do. Also, my greatest weakness is arguably stubbornness. So in addition to taking on the more difficult task of improving my weaknesses, I’ve been reluctant to transition out of the successful projects I began my Freshman and sophomore years.
And this is where I’ve failed. Time management. We’ve discussed many times the difference between management and leadership in a group dynamic. I’ve seen in groups I’ve led and managed such as FDDS’s proposals to CGIU the a leader inspires but a capable manager is required to make sure the work gets done. A leader must think strategically about how to achieve the “big picture” while the manager stays behind to ensure that the tactical day-to-day jobs get done. In many respects, I’ve seen the same dynamic in my personal life. Freshman and sophomore years were about learning to manage. This year, I’ve subconsciously started leading my life. I’m no longer trying to keep track of what’s immediately in front of me. I’m moving proactively and ambitiously to larger goals and a life post-graduation. The new dynamic has been a mixed bag of success and failure like most things in life.
The biggest trend I’ve seen lately is that small urgent needs are being missed at the expense of larger but less urgent goals. The distinction of large and small does not denote importance. Rather, it denotes the amount of time or preparation it takes to excel at the given activity. Therefore, more familiar activities are smaller than less familiar activities because they require a smaller learning curve and there is more sureness in the resources that must be allocated.
All of this is to say that I see myself missing the small things. I’m trying to do well at my new job and the graduate level classes I’m taking. I’m apply to competitive scholarships and summer opportunities that have the potential to move my goals forward to the next level. But the trade off is that the small things get missed. The laundry piles up. My parents call me asking why they haven’t talked to me in so long. I let my friends and colleagues in FDDS down by not handing in blog posts in time or attending events that are critical to the success of the program. This isn’t to say that these things are less important. I’ve just taken for granted that which I most understand.
My communication skills are a weakness I want to improve. That starts here by apologizing for not being there. It starts by doing. So to prevent another communication breakdown, I invite you all to hold me accountable to my words and your expectations. And I will meet them. I think I know what those closest to me expect of me. Above all, it’s presence. Presence in the physical as well as intellectual and emotional meanings of the word.
And I ask for your understanding. Understanding that this is all new to me. That I’m trying to manage my time and be where I’m needed. And above all, understanding that I’d rather be with you guys than anywhere else.
-Matt Lien
Who is Doing More?
I want to like the 26 Acts of Kindness. I want to think proactively and productively about how small random acts of kindness can move our society forward. But it isn’t enough. It isn’t enough to make ourselves feel better through tweeting about those small things we’ve done. And worst of all, we encourage our continual bad behavior by only acting in response to national tragedy. I want to be happy about everyday acts of philanthropy. But my wanting won’t cure the deeper problems.
What makes us think that our one-time acts of kindness, our 26 good deeds, will absolve us of all the harm we cause? Why do we feel that 26 is the magic number? I know I may sound unemotional and callous, unappreciative and scolding, but I honestly feel like we’re not honoring the memory of the dead with 26 acts of kindness. We are only comforting ourselves. I agree with President Obama’s sentiment that we are not doing enough. We’re not doing enough to help those suffering from poverty, violence, mental health, physical health, and any other number of issues. We should be ashamed that the little we do do is centered around reaction rather than prevention.
And we should consider for one moment what our subconscious motivation really is for doing 26 acts of kindness. I think it’s so the world can go back to normal. I feel some people think that some karmic debt to society must be paid. But in the piece I read and watched on NBC, I didn’t see people acting selflessly to elevate the world we share. So while I understand the desire of a community and a country to return to normal, it is necessary for me to say that our normal world has so many more than 26 children dying preventable deaths every day.
So while the world is rushing to feel whole again, I can only say that we were never whole. There has always been some part of our collective which is damaged or slighted. But we don’t point to the chronically mistreated among us and demand solutions. Instead, we do 26 acts of kindness when we feel something exceptionally horrific has touched our personal lives. These 26 acts are unintentionally us trying to keep everyday tragedy out of sight and out of mind. And if it’s out of sight and mind, we can keep the hard work conveniently out of reach.
The next question you’re asking is how does doing small good works not make the world a better place. And you’re right. Small good works are phenomenal. They make us feel good. They recognize sympathy, empathy, and humanity. That’s why we do them. That’s why we should continue to do them and not limit ourselves to 26 like this is some special occasion. What we need is to not only encourage a more giving demeanor among Americans, but we need to do sustained work to cure our many plagues.
In the three years I’ve been intensely studying this issue, I’ve come across the same advice over and over again. Think proactively. Plan ahead. Set measurable goals. Begin with a legacy in mind. Measure your impact short, medium, and long term. Almost every book I’ve read as a part of FDDS tells me that smart philanthropy looks long term. Some of the speakers we’ve seen have gone as far as calling momentary acts of charity to be shortsighted, vain, and inconsequential. I agree to a large extent.
This is not an issue of self-imposed excellence. I, through elevating myself, cannot bring back those children or prevent another tragedy like it. I wish I could. But my personal wishes are shortsighted, vain, and inconsequential. Instead we need to consider collective involvement and larger responses to the issue. We cannot begin to move each other forward when we spend all our time exalting ourselves and our minuscule acts on Twitter. There is no magic solution or tempting trap we fall into. It’s more complicated than that. But the solution begins with putting something above ourselves.
It is admirable for anyone to do good works. It is not laudable. When a small act touches one life it is doing good, not great. I want to do great. We need to be focussed on greatness. We should demand goodness from everyone and applaud greatness in some. We shouldn’t be satisfied with 26 acts.
-Matt Lien
Who is Doing More?
I want to like the 26 Acts of Kindness. I want to think proactively and productively about how small random acts of kindness can move our society forward. But it isn’t enough. It isn’t enough to make ourselves feel better through tweeting about those small things we’ve done. And worst of all, we encourage our continual bad behavior by only acting in response to national tragedy. I want to be happy about everyday acts of philanthropy. But my wanting won’t cure the deeper problems.
What makes us think that our one-time acts of kindness, our 26 good deeds, will absolve us of all the harm we cause? Why do we feel that 26 is the magic number? I know I may sound unemotional and callous, unappreciative and scolding, but I honestly feel like we’re not honoring the memory of the dead with 26 acts of kindness. We are only comforting ourselves. I agree with President Obama’s sentiment that we are not doing enough. We’re not doing enough to help those suffering from poverty, violence, mental health, physical health, and any other number of issues. We should be ashamed that the little we do do is centered around reaction rather than prevention.
And we should consider for one moment what our subconscious motivation really is for doing 26 acts of kindness. I think it’s so the world can go back to normal. I feel some people think that some karmic debt to society must be paid. But in the piece I read and watched on NBC, I didn’t see people acting selflessly to elevate the world we share. So while I understand the desire of a community and a country to return to normal, it is necessary for me to say that our normal world has so many more than 26 children dying preventable deaths every day.
So while the world is rushing to feel whole again, I can only say that we were never whole. There has always been some part of our collective which is damaged or slighted. But we don’t point to the chronically mistreated among us and demand solutions. Instead, we do 26 acts of kindness when we feel something exceptionally horrific has touched our personal lives. These 26 acts are unintentionally us trying to keep everyday tragedy out of sight and out of mind. And if it’s out of sight and mind, we can keep the hard work conveniently out of reach.
The next question you’re asking is how does doing small good works not make the world a better place. And you’re right. Small good works are phenomenal. They make us feel good. They recognize sympathy, empathy, and humanity. That’s why we do them. That’s why we should continue to do them and not limit ourselves to 26 like this is some special occasion. What we need is to not only encourage a more giving demeanor among Americans, but we need to do sustained work to cure our many plagues.
In the three years I’ve been intensely studying this issue, I’ve come across the same advice over and over again. Think proactively. Plan ahead. Set measurable goals. Begin with a legacy in mind. Measure your impact short, medium, and long term. Almost every book I’ve read as a part of FDDS tells me that smart philanthropy looks long term. Some of the speakers we’ve seen have gone as far as calling momentary acts of charity to be shortsighted, vain, and inconsequential. I agree to a large extent.
This is not an issue of self-imposed excellence. I, through elevating myself, cannot bring back those children or prevent another tragedy like it. I wish I could. But my personal wishes are shortsighted, vain, and inconsequential. Instead we need to consider collective involvement and larger responses to the issue. We cannot begin to move each other forward when we spend all our time exalting ourselves and our minuscule acts on Twitter. There is no magic solution or tempting trap we fall into. It’s more complicated than that. But the solution begins with putting something above ourselves.
It is admirable for anyone to do good works. It is not laudable. When a small act touches one life it is doing good, not great. I want to do great. We need to be focussed on greatness. We should demand goodness from everyone and applaud greatness in some. We shouldn’t be satisfied with 26 acts.
-Matt Lien
