How The Other Sector Survives: Lessons in Non-Profit Management

By Michael H. Zisser

Mixing personal narrative, managerial theories, real-life case studies, classroom lectures, and philosophical musings, Michael Zisser's new How The Other Sector Survives provides a practical and engaging guide to successful management in the non-profit, social service sector. His invaluable expertise comes from nearly 30 years of experience leading the nation's first settlement house, based on Manhattan's Lower East Side, including maneuvering unique mergers and acquisitions with other non-profits. All proceeds will benefit University Settlement Society of New York - serving more than 25,000 individuals and families every year.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jul 17, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483502403

Book preview

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PART ONE: LESSONS FROM THE NON-PROFIT DOMAIN

Chapter 1: A Managerial Narrative

There was a certain sadness about her, words said to me by a close friend describing my birth mother several decades after her quick and unexpected death when I was a child. Can I stay here for the night, words said in tears by a battered wife running from her husband, showing up at my door many years back, trusting that as her co-worker I would provide refuge. I needed to do this, words said in the early morning hours by my partner when I was age 24, following an impossibly long evening when she failed to appear at our apartment after spending the night with a guy she had met and found interesting. Then selected moments of discovery: marriage; the difficult births of two amazing daughters; completing my education, my wife and I frequently noting that we are one of the few couples in the world who both completed PhDs while getting and remaining married; acquiring an academic position as department chair for a graduate urban planning program, where luck played a more significant role than qualifications; and finally, with an equally fortunate decision by a Board acting with few options, my selection as Executive Director of what was then a struggling but proud non-profit organization, University Settlement Society of New York, the oldest settlement house in the country.

Why begin a primer on management with personal, revealing remembrances? Because the central, and perhaps only unique theme of this book is to argue that there is no separation between how one manages and leads from one’s personal narrative. There is not, and cannot be, a separation of personal and professional values, or ways of relating to and organizing the world. The descriptive typologies used by most contemporary authors on management - definitions of intelligence, of leadership or managerial qualities, of personal styles - have, in my view, proven to be of minimal use either in understanding what it means to be a leader or in conveying useful guidance to the next generation of leaders. I understand what their creators are trying to accomplish, and I almost understand why these efforts have been useful to countless managers. Neat categories are always better than messy realities. Descriptive superficial examples are always better than in-depth understanding. Stories told by external consultants about their corporate interventions are apparently easier to sell than first hand experiences. In an anti-intellectual self-actualization society, reflection and critical analysis do not get you invited to the best parties. But, fundamentally, these messages are better at making us feel good than at delving deeper into useful meaning.

I admit to perhaps not understanding most modern managerial literature, a bias I acquired in having a rigorous education where conflicting argument structures needed to be understood prior to settling on mostly facile explanations for behavior. The pursuit of critical understanding in the workplace is a burden, perhaps an unreachable goal, and a necessity for good leadership. At least I learned to always try to hire people smarter than me and who wanted my job, to create an atmosphere where intellectual or professional ambitions would always drive the conversation.

Frustrated by the reading lists I either borrowed or tried to construct in my recent efforts at teaching Strategic Planning in a highly respected graduate public administration program, I decided to write my own text. I would have rather had the talent or inspiration to write a novel, so basically this book will have to suffice in satisfying conflicting drives. Borrowing from the world of literature and the cultural arts, I will tend towards constructive narrative as a method. Living with an art historian for over thirty years has done this to me. As a matter of personal preference and learning, I have for a long time split my annual reading fifty-fifty between fiction and non-fiction, believing that I have acquired far more insights about being a manager from reading novels than I have from reading managerial texts.

There are three parts to this book. In the first, The Things I Tried to Teach in Class and in Real Life, I have organized and presented, in more formal language, the lectures I tried to give to my students when describing what it means to think and act strategically in a real setting. These lectures are not that much different than the conversations I’ve had with staff at work over many years. Woven throughout will be mini case studies and references from my own experiences, examples of what I’ve done that may be useful to entrepreneurial managers who like reading stories. The second part of the book, Mergers, Acquisitions and Other Unnatural Acts, is my account of the story that brought together University Settlement and The Door, the two well known non-profit institutions with which I’ve been involved for over twenty-five years. I was never very good at using case studies in my teaching, and I found reading them to be tedious and uninformative in real practice, even when I knew that some professors were skillful in utilizing them. It’s been suggested to me many times, however, that I document some of my own cases – especially in the arena of complex organizational endeavors such as mergers and partnerships - just so that my failing (or muddled) memory will not lose whatever lessons are to be learned from years of practice. So this is my attempt at documentation, which also not coincidentally picks up on many of the issues raised in the first part. The third part, Crossing Boundaries, is my attempt at tying together the two disparate parts of my life, being a professor and then becoming an executive director, focusing on selected ethical dilemmas confronted by all managers.

My resume grows shorter as I get older, the fortunate consequence of having found and kept just a few wonderful positions. This book is based on these work experiences, eight years as Chairman and Associate Professor in Pratt Institute’s graduate program in City and Regional Planning, a few additional years as an adjunct faculty member at several universities, the past twenty-five years as Executive Director of University Settlement, and for the past ten years also serving as Chief Executive Officer of The Door, one of the largest youth development agencies in the country and now a subsidiary corporation of the Settlement. These experiences have shaped my life, and taught me what I’ve tried to express in this book.

Chapter 2: Managerial Motivations in the Non-Profit World

Years ago, riding the New York City subway, I witnessed a young mother first violently yelling at and then hitting her child. Like the other riders, I stared but did nothing, even though I felt the same physical revulsion and queasiness I experience when watching violence of any sought in real life or on television. A few stops later, I exited the subway car, angry at myself for doing nothing. Why should this child suffer in a way that I would never allow my children to suffer? Why should this parent have reached this stage of anger and action? Why does this particular, relatively insignificant memory remain in my head for so long, crowding out an endless list of similar depressing anecdotal images?

This incident is recalled not because I am preoccupied with the failures or inequities of society, nor to project the anonymity sometimes required for survival in an urban environment. Recall is about motivation, about my relationship to my work, to my family. Autobiography is not requisite to explain why people end up working for non-profit agencies, or pursuing leadership managerial positions. But a fair starting point in discussing managerial effectiveness is to discover initial motivations, or world views, or – to use a rather strange borrowed descriptive term – the lens through which we perceive and react to the world. I would argue that motivations, linked to skill sets (dealt with in later chapters), makes for a potentially interesting typology somewhat different than the varieties now available. Motivations may be known or unknown, crystal clear or elusive, deeply self-reflective or intrinsically evident. Whatever the back-stories are relating to motivations, they certainly are a more interesting way to understand people in the field, much more so than interpreting resumes. This is where personal narratives begin.

This pseudo typology suggests at least four motivational categories for working in this field and striving to attain leadership positions which I will briefly describe: (a) inspirational social justice; (b) route to success; (c) can’t get another job; (d) fix the world. By jumping right into the linear rationality of an easy-to-organize typology, I may be committing the same sin that I’ve criticized in other leadership literature, but I trust that an honesty is the best policy approach will minimize this sinful act. Since money and power are not as plentiful in the non-profit sector as in other sectors (though this phenomenon is also changing as salaries and influence seem to be on the rise, at least for some positions), motivation also becomes an interesting factor when decisions are made that are difficult, painful, and potentially harmful to one’s longevity in a managerial role. As with all typologies, there is no pure case; we are all motivated by many forces, and we are all driven by particular forces.

(a) Inspirational social justice. The people who benefit from the work of the non-profit sector deserve what they receive and/or are entitled to what they receive. The redistribution of wealth that is meant to characterize fairness in a democracy, the obligations of government and society to enhance social justice and compensate for the deficiencies of a market economy, the overwhelming needs across so many dimensions that should not exist in a prosperous culture, all lead to the fundamental premises that necessitate and justify the work of the non-profit sector. This is what many people in the field believe and articulate as their primary reason or motivation for engagement. Our work is less about us than about how we are serving a larger purpose. We are justified in our actions, beliefs, and pursuits because they are directed towards a self-evident higher purpose. If not for our work, for the responsible fulfillment of our professional duties, social justice might not be achieved. This is, obviously, a powerful and rewarding argument, almost universally understood and accepted amongst the brethren.

(b) Route to success. The non-profit world isn’t what it used to be, and it is changing dramatically every day. There are careers to be had, there are good salaries to be made, there is status to achieve; there are even prestigious awards and fellowships to earn. There are multiple paths to success that don’t punish you for staying in a world that, generally speaking, does not bring the rewards available in the private for-profit sector. Therefore, people see and pursue routes to success through choice and deliberation, rejecting or avoiding other paths that might have, under different circumstances, been more appealing. This is not to deny that success comes at a price, especially for those who could just as easily pursue a different route. While it has always been the case that lawyers, doctors and others in the traditional professions have sometimes chosen less remunerative career options, increasingly we find people who might have gone into business or public policy or even government service choosing instead to pursue the non-profit managerial world. Equally interesting is the trend for people to move from the private sector into the non-profit sector later in life because they are looking for meaning. Frequently, they are seeking roles higher than they are qualified to fill because they believe their skills surpass those of the non-profit lifers, but they eventually come to understand that the right expertise is not so easily acquired, even at lower salaries.

And then we can’t under-estimate the fact, or social assumption, that for many people the most viable route to professional success is through the non-profit field. Women are, of course, well represented in most parts of this sector – and are probably compensated at rates similar to men, or at least closer than in other sectors. For many minority groups (minority when considering national statistics but not necessarily local statistics), the non-profit sector also affords opportunities perhaps not as easily available in the for-profit community. There is even a tacit and, occasionally, an overtly political and ideological belief that people who receive services and/or participate in programs conducted by non-profits receive those services/programs from people of similar racial and/or ethnic backgrounds. This creates a built-in demand function supporting the route-to-success option.

(c) It’s just another job. I have never been convinced that the majority of people entering the non- profit world do so because of some calling or overwhelming intention to do good. There are just too many intervening factors, or personal professional choices, or historic influences to make altruism any more meaningful explanation than it deserves. People take jobs because of what becomes available to them when they’re looking, or because they’re in the right place at the right time, or because other (perhaps more desirable) jobs aren’t offered or evident, or because their education limits their choices; or because they just don’t know what they want to do in life and then a job comes along. Most folks major in subjects or go to graduate schools or take initial jobs by default as much as purpose. Serendipity and chance would appear to be the key factors in career choice. Why have such a cynical view, and of what relevance is it in this context? Because to be a non-profit manager, you cannot over-estimate the investment people have in their work unless you want to be disappointed. It’s just a job, and it could just as easily be another job, so expect accordingly.

When I discuss the time factor in strategic planning, this notion of commitment related to the manner in which we find and select jobs becomes very important. I can’t count the number of times employees at all levels have said, using some combination of words, I love my job...I love this organization...I am incredibly committed to my clients....I love my co-workers....I will sadly miss the children in my class, my patients, my students, my families, etc...BUT, I found this other job and I need to take it because......it pays more money, it’s closer to my home, I get my own office, it’s what I really want to do, etc. No surprises here, just the reality that work in a non-profit is mostly just that: work. This work could be here or there, in one organization or another, inseparable from other life choices.

(d) Fixing the world. Few people would describe belief, or religion, in any traditional sense – but not necessarily in any communal or practitioner sense – as a motivational factor in becoming a non-profit manager. Nor would we usually be aware of or sensitive to other peoples’ religious tendencies as witnessed at the workplace given all the social and legal prescriptions against public practice or articulation of beliefs. More importantly, our common managerial language does not allow for value driven positions except those mentioned under social justice arguments. But, as with other influences that form our personal perspectives and have forcefully shaped some of our lives as managers, religion – or, at least, the secularized interpretation of religion - has provided the language, the value framing, the historical imperative that may be used to structure and justify actions. Tikkun olam, repairing the world. I have used more arrogant