Owning It

 

At many local genealogical organizations, summertime is break time. Members are traveling, or spending time with family, or celebrating holidays, wedding anniversaries, or birthdays. Summer is not the best time to expect a record-breaking turnout for society meetings.

There's only one problem with such a schedule: though based in reality, it puts the group's officers in a bind if the following season is time to nominate and elect candidates for the upcoming year's board of directors. Our local organization moved that schedule up a month to satisfy all the requirements of our bylaws—and to leave enough time for the nominating committee to adequately network among members and (who am I kidding here?) coax, cajole, and downright bribe potential candidates to step up and volunteer their services for the good of the society.

It was in beginning that nominations process last week that a thought struck me. Having served on our local board for (mumble mumble) years, I've noticed two types of volunteers who have done their part on the board. One group is comprised of those who have done just that: done "their part" in a perfunctory, to-the-letter manner. They have filled the slot on the roster, gotten the job done at least adequately, and then moved on.

Then there is the other group. The only way I can describe this group is to say when they stepped up to be installed in their position, they owned that position.

In talking with others about our genealogy organizations—no matter whether national, state, or local—I have sometimes heard people mention a particular board member as a "Type A" individual. I won't belabor the description of such a term; I think we all have a mental image of such a person. But I think that way of looking at such board members does all of us a disservice. 

I've worked in private business, for governmental agencies, and as an owner or partner in my own businesses over the years. From experience across multiple work environments, I think I can say there is a vast difference between those who see themselves as simply employees, just doing their job, and people who own their work. While it may be the employee's boss for whom that ubiquitous saying has been adopted—"the buck stops here"—for the self-employed, there is no one to whom that "buck" can be passed. They own the results and the results' consequences.

Now that I look back at all those conversations with friends about board members, I wonder if I got it all wrong. It may actually be that those "Type A" volunteers were the ones who owned their work. They owned their contributions to the organization in that they put their whole heart into the effort, and took responsibility for seeing the outcome through to the end.

If that's what "Type A" really means, perhaps it is a good thing that there are people out there willing to "own" their efforts, and "own" their outcome. We need more board members like that.