It’s OK to Feel

In a box buried somewhere in my closet rests a legal pad containing the notes I took during my introductory MPA class – “Public Affairs Concepts and Theory.”  Inscribed in large capital letters on the pad’s front page is a three-word statement – “THINK, NOT FEEL.”

My professor, the late Dr. Jerzy Hauptmann, a towering figure at Park University, delivered that message to my classmates and me on an August evening in 1991.  A survivor of a Nazi POW camp, he believed that each of us should speak and write with the courage of our convictions.

To him, using a phrase such as “I feel that ‘reinventing government ’ oversimplifies the challenges of 1990s public administration” made a less persuasive argument because, from his perspective, feeling was and is amorphous.

Dr. Hauptmann wanted to believe in the rational model, yet he admitted that most of us frequently make less-than-rational decisions. I recall in that introductory class his lecture on Herbert Simon and the concept of satisficing, a bounded rationality perspective.

In the years following my graduation, I aimed to exemplify intellect and analytical thinking.  I am convinced that my MPA student experience facilitated me burying my emotions long after my graduation.

“THINK, NOT FEEL” is a hard lesson to unlearn.

As I embarked and continued upon my journey as an ASPA officer, a different voice – one decidedly non-rational and very emotional – began to call out from a space deep within me.  While I knew I needed to focus on strategic planning, budgets and the like, I felt like speaking about fairness, respect and human decency.

This voice expressed itself at recent ASPA conferences, sometimes without me actually uttering words.

At the 2010, 2011 and 2012 ASPA Annual Conferences, I participated on panels discussing to what extent professional public administration associations “walk their talk” in terms of social equity.

For my 2010 and 2011 PowerPoint presentations, I juxtaposed audio from Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech with slides addressing the somewhat slow evolution of social equity within ASPA.

At the 2012 ASPA Annual Conference in Las Vegas, my PowerPoint presentation featured photos of socioeconomically challenged neighborhoods of conference host cities with John Lennon’s “Imagine” playing in the background.

To view, the PowerPoint, click here.

By touching attendees’ emotions, I delivered more effective and powerful presentations than anything I might have orated myself.

Speaking of touching people, several of my ASPA National Colleagues concluded their terms of service during the past conference, and I wanted to send them off with more than a handshake.  I trolled their Facebook pages for family photos, compiled a list of their accomplishments, inserted an appropriate audio clip (“So Long, Farewell” from The Sound of Music) and secretly unveiled a PowerPoint tribute at the end of the meeting.  Witnessing their reactions was priceless!

Sometimes in professional organizations we often attempt to be so unemotional and formal that we miss opportunities to celebrate the real friendships and real connections which develop between members.

Likewise, when we define public administration as a science, we overlook the power of public service and its ability to express our collective desire to make a meaningful difference in our communities, our nations and our world (hat tip to Bob and Janet Denhardt).

As I stood behind the podium at the opening of the 2012 Annual Conference in Las Vegas, I attempted to look presidential.  Inside, however, I felt a range of emotions, not the least of which was gratitude.  I remain grateful for my friends in the audience that day, grateful for my family’s love throughout my ASPA tenure, grateful for my University’s patience and support; and grateful for my professor and mentor, Dr. Hauptmann, even though I had to unlearn the first lesson he taught me.

When I served as a pallbearer at Dr. Hauptmann’s funeral, I remained so stoic that I neither shed a tear during nor after the service.  Today, my eyes well up when I recall him.

If I was teaching Park University’s introductory MPA course, the one Dr. Hauptmann himself created, I would begin the first class with the following statement – “It’s OK to feel.”

After all, we’re human.

Photo Credits: Park.edu; copp.utsa.edu; 

Fear and Ego

By Erik Bergrud, ASPA Past President

More than 1,200 individuals from throughout the world descended upon Las Vegas in March to attend what ASPA billed as the most comprehensive public administration professional development conference of the year.

In preparing to travel to Las Vegas, I finalized my daily schedule, resigning myself to the reality that I would not be able to garner many pearls of wisdom in conference sessions since I was obliged as then ASPA President to attend meeting after meeting, sometimes simultaneously.

Little did I know at the time that I would learn two powerful life lessons before I left Las Vegas.

In the lead up to and throughout the first days of the conference, much was made about my planned 855-foot jump off the Stratosphere Tower to raise donations for an endowed ASPA student scholarship.

I actually recorded the event and my employer, Park University, was gracious enough to post the video on its YouTube channel – ASPA Past President Takes Plunge.

When you watch the video, you’ll likely conclude that I remained calm, cool and collected throughout the experience.   The camera failed to record the inner conflict I felt at the time.   Even though I was secured by two well-trained staff members, I still harbored fears about my safety.

As I stood on the platform unwilling to look directly downward but gazing at the Las Vegas lights in the distance, I willed myself to take the first step.

The camera did accurately capture the euphoria I felt as I soared through the sky, a combination of the experience itself as well as the realization that I was safe.  What a rush!

The following morning, some conference attendees seemed a bit relieved to see me alive. It’s nice to be loved!

Lesson #1 – Move beyond your fears, take the first step, and you can make an extraordinary accomplishment!

One of the joys of the ASPA presidency during the conference is taking photos with students and international attendees.  Let me be clear – I enjoyed this very much, perhaps too much.

As the conference neared its end, I felt some sadness and emptiness inside.  My tenure as ASPA president had run its course.  This brings me to the “ego” dimension in the title.

In reviewing the title, one might conclude that I should pay tribute to the late Hunter S. Thompson for his inspiration.  I actually need to acknowledge a trusted friend and former ASPA National Council colleague who made possible my Las Vegas learning experiences.

Randy Robinson dared me, on Facebook of all places, to take the literal plunge off the Stratosphere.  When I returned home to Kansas City, I reflected on Randy and my Las Vegas experience, and I suddenly recalled a conversation which took place more than a decade ago while I served on the ASPA staff.

He told me that, by the time the annual conference rolls around, other ASPA leaders are more interested in connecting with the president-elect than with the president, who is a lame duck at that point.

After being continually sought after for more than two years, I did feel like a lame duck on the conference’s final afternoon and, in retrospect, even though I successfully avoided using the term “my conference” to refer to the Las Vegas Conference, my ego defined my conference experience.

If my jump reflected a battle between reason and fear, my tenure as ASPA president involved a struggle between good intentions and ego.

Lesson #2 – When taking on any assignment, check your ego at the door, then recheck it again and again!

My former boss and mentor, the late Dr. Jerzy Hauptmann, told me on many occasions that there has to be more to life than serving yourself.  As I approach post-presidential opportunities to serve my community, nonprofit organizations and ASPA, I will do so by first facing my fears and acknowledging my ego.   In the end, service exists for the greater good.

A Day in the Life of an ASPA Officer

Greetings from San Jose! Yesterday, the 2010 ASPA Annual Conference went into full motion. I want to share an account of Saturday’s activities from my perspective as ASPA’s Vice President. Here’s a day in the life of an ASPA officer:

5:00 a.m. I checked my Facebook account and sent some Tweets.

6:30 a.m. I left my hotel room to find the location of the day’s first event.

7:00 a.m. ASPA held its New Member and First Time Attendees’ Orientation. Many ASPA leaders addressed the capacity audience. I ended my comments with a Gandhi quote which popped in my head after my fourth cup of coffee.

9:00 a.m. The Opening Plenary session was scheduled to start.

9:05 a.m. We’re still waiting…

10:15 a.m. OPM Director John Berry brought the audience to their feet with his impassioned concluding comments.

10:30 a.m. I dropped by a meeting of our Publications Committee and thanked them for their continued excellent service to the Society. Over the next hour, I was engaged in numerous hallway conversations.

11:30 a.m. The reality of being ASPA Vice President began to set in as I chaired the 2012 Leadership Team meeting. Spirited conversation, coffee and brownies put attendees in a positive mood. By the end of the meeting, we agree that ASPA needs to focus on its core values. We have a positive message to share with the world.

1:00 p.m. ASPA’s National Council members gather for their meeting. I was literally bouncing in my seat as I prepared to deliver my brief opening remarks – could have been the coffee, the positive energy permeating the conference or both!

4:25 p.m. The meeting concludes a little later than anticipated. My colleagues and I rush over to the conference exhibit hall for its grand opening.

6:20 p.m. A throng of conference attendees walks across the street for the Welcome Reception at San Jose’s Tech Museum of Innovation. We’re greeted by mariachi music as we enter.

9:30 p.m. Wasn’t the reception scheduled to end at 8:30? A few of us finally got the message and exited the museum. We headed out for a late dinner.

11:25 p.m. I returned to my room and set my alarm clock. Sunday meetings are scheduled to begin at 7:00 a.m.