Friday 26 September 2014

NonBelonging and NewBelonging: Rewriting the rules in a spirit of adventure

A most interesting angle on Belonging from Andy Swann, the plucky fellow who has set himself up as I am The Work Project.

This is the challenge he has set:
  "Can I go a year working outside the usual structures of work and  still make a living?"

Is this, essentially, NonBelonging?

Here's what he says so far:
"The Work Experiment involves a few different elements. To fully question what work is conceptually and emotionally, the structures we put around it, the mechanisms it perpetuates in our lives, how it continues to evolve and how it could perhaps be changed for the better, I need to change my relationship with work.

As of today, I'm not employed. I have nothing lined up but an open mind. I have enough money in the bank to last around one month. I'm very comfortable asking for what I need, so I'm equally comfortable being asked. I'm now working solely within the parameters of the work project."

And here are his guidelines:

"- I won't charge a pre-determined rate or fee for my work.

- For any work I do, all I'll ask is that the value I create is recognised.

- Recognition doesn't have to be purely financial (although it will need to be sometimes), it can be in value - products, services... anything.

- I'll work anywhere, consider any offer, but reserve the right to say no.

- I'm open to going anywhere in the world and will listen to any offer or idea. The aim of the experiment is to see whether this unstructured approach to work is sustainable and personally more fulfilling."

Not content with that Andy found himself twiddling his thumbs and noticing that his Twitter followership was still only around 500 despite pretty decent networking. 

So he put out a message to appeal to his next 100 Twitter followers, promising something good.

Here's what he says happens: 
"Within minutes I'd amassed well over the 100 followers I needed for the project and was hit by a wave on enthusiasm, constructive comment, sharing and interest. 
I was pretty taken aback and I now had a responsibility to deal with it all!"
Having identified the first 100 followers he sent an introductory tweet asking

"How can I support you?"
  And within 72 hours Andy had etablished #100connections, a bubbling community of talent and goodwill, exchanging ideas and support between each other - the Twitter equivalent of the barn-raising scene in Witness, the whole village pulling together to build a barn in a day.


He's gathered more support for this community from his discussions at the Culturevist event this week, with a like-minded bunch who put culture before the tasks of an organisation. 

What a great paradox. Someone who appears consciously to be NonBelonging, is working to several of our core principles of Belonging:

- Purpose (test whether he can go a year outside the usual structures of work and still make a living)
- Ethos (fairness, hardwork, openness, spirit of adventure)
- Community (offering support)
- Camaraderie (easy exchange, wanting success for each other in the team)
- Appreciation (recognising value, openly acknowledging help)

I'm intrigued. What does he belong to? Himself, or everything, or nothing?

So I'll be catching up with Andy later this month to find out what Belonging means to him and how his experience relates to our research - watch this BelongingSpace for an update.

Wishing Andy every success with his adventure. What a refreshing inspiration for a Friday.


Do you want to Belong or NonBelong?
What makes Belonging work in your organisation?


Find how we can help you create a sense of Belonging.

Follow us on Twitter for #Belonging insights
@IsabelBelonging


And you can offer Andy work (within his parameters) at
@AndySwann

Tuesday 9 September 2014

The formal and informal symbols of Belonging: Welshness in a NATO goody-bag


A powerful aspect of Belonging is in the symbols that represent identity.

Not only the formal symbols of flags, heraldry and iconic buildings. For organisations and nations, culture is revealed most in the informal symbols: What we eat, how we behave, how we greet each other.

This is one of the parameters we use at The BelongingSpace to assess Belonging and culture. We identify the way symbols are used by people and organisations to represent Belonging.


So it was interesting to see what was included, to sum up Wales and Welshness, in the goody-bag, given last Friday to world leaders going home from the NATO summit hosted in Newport, Wales.



A tough challenge. Can any list of national symbols avoid being dry and caricatured?



David Cameron said he wanted to "promote Welsh businesses and culture".


But does this modest list of items really sum up the character of Wales?


A humble basket of gifts in a willow basket, held out from the tiny Principality to the noble world leaders.  

(See full list at the end of this article.)


 
The rugby ball and the selection of Dylan Thomas were unavoidable. The natty Corgi socks are apparently The Prince of Wales’ favourite. The whisky from Penderyn - the only Welsh distillery - will chase away any maudlin tendencies. 

The digital art is a modern take on ancient landscapes. The willow, slate and gold showcase natural resources and crafts. Newport’s famous Transporter Bridge represents engineering.

And great to see UK technology in the marvellous RaspberryPi, built in Wales.



Maybe the Welshcakes hold a symbol of the Welsh psyche - pragmatic, straightforward, warm hearted: plain ingredients giving a surprisingly delicious treat.



But overall it’s a bit disappointing. Despite real commitment from craftspeople and businesses, the goody bags have undersold Welsh industry and impact.



David Cameron spoke about  
“Wales’ strong defence and aerospace sectors… fine examples of its strong heritage in craftsmanship and food too.”

But he’s made Wales look parochial.



It’s as if Myfanwy Price has pottered along her sweetshop shelves and Mrs Organ Morgan has grabbed a few things from the back of her store.

(For full Welsh flavour, hear these characters in Dylan Thomas’ poem ‘Under Milk Wood’ read by Richard Burton)

No mention, in the going-home bag, of the scale of Welsh industry and invention.

No reference to the global contribution from the other (beyond Thomas) great Welsh heroes: the actors, writers, scientists, the social reformers, Nye Bevan the pioneer of the NHS.

No sharing, in the scrumptious foods, of the diversity held within Wales strong communities.

No hint, in the presentation, of the Welsh hewn-from-granite spirit or so-straight-it’s-more-unbearably-funny sense of humour. What would Rob Brydon make of it all?

And, hang on - Welshness in a bag, and NO MUSIC?!!



Happily, the Prince of Wales treated the leaders to live performances by musicians from the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama, the Welsh National Opera Brass Consort, and his very own Official Harpist Hannah Stone.



But they needed a reminder to take back home.



You have not experienced Welshness (or music) till you've been engulfed in the full power of a Welsh choir singing 'Cwm Rhonda’.




A cliché, maybe: and a symbol worth having.

Unique singing unmatched even by the great Russian sound (stick that, Putin) or the high intellect of German conductors (sorry Mrs Merckel) or the refinement of Italian opera (mi dispiace, but it’s hard to keep up with Italian Prime Ministers).


Human voices, in richest harmony, the resonance bouncing off your heart: the essence of humanity.



Exactly what this NATO meeting - depressingly on the edge of conflict rather than unity - needed.



Sadly, one symbol of NATO's challenges at the summit was upfront on its web page in the four languages listed:

English, French, Russian, Ukrainian



An irony of language betrays the old Wales-England tension: in Cymraeg, “Cymru”means “land of fellow countrymen”; in English, “Wales” means “land of foreigners”.
Belonging and not belonging


So does the basket of goodies sum up what the people of Wales see in themselves?

Who better to ask for comment than a Welsh identity expert: Rebecca Price, MD of Frank Bright and Abel.



“What ultimately defines Welsh identity is the people. From Neil Kinnock to Tom Jones, from Rhys Ifans to my mum’s 'pillar of the local chapel' next door neighbour, we’re people with heart, gently self mocking, who never take ourselves too seriously. I am who I am, because I’m Welsh. 



 It means I’m direct, with no varnish or gloss and laugh to the toes of my shoes.”


(I was looking for a couple of lines: Rebecca, mentioning a love of language, sent me an eloquent essay on her national identity which I have published fully on the next blog



The formal symbol, the red Welsh dragon, sat proudly opposite the US stars and stripes on Obama's car on a visit to a Newport primary school.

And yet - for anyone proud of the interdependence of nations in the United Kingdom - while we face the possibility of losing the blue of the Scottish Saltire from the Union flag, there is no symbol of Wales represented in it.

Will we have to replace the blue with the black and yellow of the St David's flag?



Symbols in action?
The Newport summit gave a great global profile to Wales.
Will these symbols have a lasting impact?

I wonder if the leaders will wear their Welsh gold cuff links and bracelets, or keep their bathroom items in the little willow basket, or whether President Obama will throw his rugby ball across the White House lawn?



Our symbols of heritage can hold us together and stand us apart: choose them carefully.


How can organisations select symbols that really represent them?

A few tips to avoid the predictability of the Newport baskets:


-     Remember it’s in the informal symbols that culture is truly revealed

-     Look deeper than the obvious literal symbols, to richer experience

-     Look broader at both heritage and ambition, diverse perspectives

-     The simpler the better

-     Listen to the phrases used in everyday exchange

-     Bring home the senses: the simple tastes, sounds, touch, sights and smells, of every day

-     Pin down what people share, and take for granted, in their community

-     Find what makes people laugh

-     Ask people what they are most proud of


   
Or capture the fleeting moments - as with Welsh singing – in which we share common heritage and make stronger connections.



What are the symbols - formal and informal - that sum up your country?


Talk to us about how to create a sense of Belonging.
isabel@belongingspace.com

www.belongingspace.com
twitter@IsabelBelonging


Here's the full list of the NATO goody bag from WalesOnline


- Willow baskets, handcrafted using willow grown in South Wales by Caerphilly based Hatton Willow, Cardiff maker Seren Willow and Out to Learn Willow from Ogmore;

- Personalised Nato coasters made from Welsh slate made by Valley Mill;

- A commemorative piece crafted by the Royal Mint, designed by engraver Jody Clark and produced at Llantrisant;

- Locally produced Welsh cakes supplied by Celtic Manor resort;

- Cufflinks and bracelets produced using Welsh gold by Clogau jewellers;

- Honey made by Hilltop Honey in Caersws;

- Whisky bottled by the Penderyn Distillery;

- Welsh rugby balls, representing Wales’s national sport, presented by the Welsh Rugby Union;

- A book of “Selected Poems by Dylan Thomas” presented by Orion Publishing;

- Woollen journals woven by Jane Beck and Nia Hobbs in Ceredigion;

- Woollen socks produced by family-run Corgi Hosiery, based in Carmarthenshire;

- Prints of a photograph of Newport Transporter Bridge taken by Pradip Kotecha, which won the Iconic Newport photography competition presented by the competition’s organisers, University of South Wales;

- Framed prints of iPad paintings of “400 iconic views of Newport” by artist Joseph Anthony Connor;

- A Sony Raspberry Pi credit-card sized computer, built at Pencoed, near Bridgend;

- Taylors Welsh Crisps, made from potatoes ‘born and raised in Wales’;

- Fudge created by Eboni ac eifori in Pwllheli, and the Fudge Fairy sweet shop in Caldicot;

- Chocolates and sweets handmade by Michelin trained pastry chef Beverly Reed, from Creative Food in Newport;

- Ties from Port Talbot based First Corporate Clothing; and

- Bags from Red Hat Printing in Newport, produced by Ralawise in North Wales and Weston Mill.


A message from the Prime Minister inside the gift basket reads: “During this summit you will see many examples of Wales’ strong defence and aerospace sectors. Here are some fine examples of its strong heritage in craftsmanship and food too.



“From the poems of Dylan Thomas and the craftsmanship of the Royal Mint to produce being made today in Wales, I hope you will enjoy each of these gifts and be inspired by them to find out about all that Wales has to offer.”


Find more on our work on Belonging at www.belongingspace.com

Guest blog: Does the NATO Summit basket of goodies sum up what the people of Wales see in themselves?


Today’s guest blog is from Rebecca Price, MD of brand identity specialists Frank, Bright and Abel.


I was struck by the challenge of selecting symbols of Wales in the gifts for world leaders at the NATO summit in Newport last week. (My own view follows in the next blog.)


Does the NATO Summit basket of goodies sum up what the people of Wales see in themselves?

So who better to ask for comment than a Welsh brand-identity expert.


I was looking for a couple of lines: Rebecca has sent me an eloquent essay on her national identity.

Thank you, Rebecca.





Hosting the NATO Summit has pushed Wales right to the top of the headlines. Perhaps now people beyond the principality will stop saying Wales is in England, which prompts a question about what defines Welsh identity.



What best sums up and symbolises Welshness is something that could be the subject of several books. Despite being hammered every bit as much as the Scots (and Wales’s beautiful castles are testament to this), the resultant response in expression of national identity is less overt, but no less potent, than either the Scottish or Irish identities. Welsh identity is as subtle as its countryside, with surprising differences between North and South, my own Wales starting at Swansea and ending at St David’s. 



The willow hampers gifted at the NATO summit were fantastic and prompt the question about what I might have crammed them full of. I would have packed them full of Welsh food: healthy, hearty, unfussy and straight from the landscape. There’s always a welcome in the hillside and that often starts with food. 

First there would be fish and shellfish, not least razor clams plucked from the sand of Gower, together with health giving lava bread, the seaweed available only from that tiny stretch of coast. Secondly, there would be plenty available for tea time. Welsh cakes, a bakestone loaf, bara brith (buttered of course) and Glengettie tea. If there were any space left, I’d fill it with vegetables from Pembrokeshire, a bottle of the air that makes me sigh when I step onto the beach at Rhossili, a rug from Melin Tregwynt to sit on and a Welsh Love Spoon to eat it all with!



We Welsh are an expressive lot. You see this played out in rugby grounds throughout the South, in chapel and in the cultural National Eisteddfod. Music is not limited to male voice choirs, singing Calon Lan on a Sunday and the harp, and you’ll hear Delilah sung from the terraces of Llanelli’s rugby stands, as well as today's charts full of Welsh performers. A bit of How Green was my Valley still lives on, but Welshness hasn’t stopped evolving since. So the NATO hampers, would be incomplete without music. 

They would be incomplete without Dylan Thomas too, that giant amongst men whom we’ve been late to honour, dismissed by the English for being too Welsh and scorned by the Welsh for writing in English. 



But what ultimately defines Welsh identity is the people. From Neil Kinnock to Tom Jones, from Rhys Ifans to my mum’s 'pillar of the local chapel' next door neighbour, we’re people with heart, gently self mocking, who never take ourselves too seriously. I am who I am, because I’m Welsh. Being Welsh means I talk to people on the Underground. And that I talk too much. 

It means just like the inhabitants of Llaregubb, I find nicknames for everyone I know. It means I love language,  call my son ‘cariad’ and write profusely, in my own rather idiosyncratic style. 

It means I’m direct, with no varnish or gloss and laugh to the toes of my shoes.



Above all it means I have something that pulls at me when I see the Severn Bridge and makes me feel I belong, when I cross it – ‘hiraeth’, an example of singular Welsh identity so strong, that there is no direct translation into English.





Rebecca Price

Frank, Bright & Abel