August 31, 2006 - Public Sector Vs. Private Sector Employment

Jamie LaRue is on vacation. This week's column is written by Art Glover, Human Resources Manager for Douglas County Libraries.

"How do you feel about public employment verses private employment?"

It is a question I have been asked many times since I began working for the Douglas County Libraries as the district's Human Resources Manager.

Often, the question is delivered with a knowing wink. I imagine they are thinking, "Surely you must be happier now!" And generally, I would say they are correct.

Once upon a time, I worked for a very large telecommunications and cable corporation. During those seventeen years, I did everything from handling calls from customers, to responding to executive complaints, to managing other employees, to human resources management work. I learned a great deal during my tenure with the company. I made long-lasting friendships. The company paid for my Masters degree. I was given many wonderful opportunities, and I'll always be grateful for that.

But was I happy at work? Oh, there were good times, sometimes even happy times. I'm usually a glass-half-full kind of guy, so I rode through the rough times without too much stress. Yet I was vaguely, and sometimes very, dissatisfied.

Why, you might ask? I have thought about it for quite some time now, and while there were multiple reasons I think I have narrowed it down to a few major issues. First, there was not a clear connection between my work and the overall mission of the organization. I never knew how my work fit into the grand scheme of things.

Something else became clear as I began to work for the library district. With my previous employer, I began to realize that I wanted to do something that would, directly or indirectly, give back to the community. I wanted to do something for the common good. I was growing tired of working to fill the pockets of the CEO, the shareholders, and our own wallets. This was the other major dissatisfaction for me.

Many people prefer working in the private sector. I understand that completely. It does have its advantages.

But for me, the public sector is where it's at.

I'm a big believer in acknowledging the fact that we all have choices. They may not always be easy choices; often they are very difficult choices. But I believe that the old saying is true: The only thing we must do in life is die. Everything else is a choice.

Some choices are made easier by circumstances. While working for the aforementioned telecommunications corporation, there were many threats of layoffs through the years. After enduring and surviving many rounds of down sizing that affected my peers across the company, and after handling many of the layoffs myself as a Human Resources Manager (a gut-wrenching experience, to be sure), my number eventually came up. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

I had a chance to seek other opportunities with the company after the layoff became effective, but I decided against it. I decided that I wanted less stress in my life, for starters. I wanted to grow personally and professionally. I wanted to work for an organization that was much smaller than the over 50,000 employee workforce that I came from. I wanted to feel valued and listened to. Of course, fair pay and benefits were in the picture as well, but I was willing to face the inevitable decrease in compensation that the public sector provides in comparison with the private sector.

I may be an optimist, but I'm also a realist. Everything is not rosy in the public employment world. Funding, for example, is a constant concern, no matter how financially stable your public employer might be. There are also the usual workplace woes, from employee relations challenges to office politics to communications and trust issues.

But in spite of it all, those of us in the public sector know why we are here. Everything we do is in support of the community. It is a selfless and honorable endeavor.

And that's why, at least for us, working in the public employment world is a winner. Hands down. August 31, 2006 - Public Sector Vs. Private Sector Employment

Jamie LaRue is on vacation. This week's column is written by Art Glover, Human Resources Manager for Douglas County Libraries.

"How do you feel about public employment verses private employment?"

It is a question I have been asked many times since I began working for the Douglas County Libraries as the district's Human Resources Manager.

Often, the question is delivered with a knowing wink. I imagine they are thinking, "Surely you must be happier now!" And generally, I would say they are correct.

Once upon a time, I worked for a very large telecommunications and cable corporation. During those seventeen years, I did everything from handling calls from customers, to responding to executive complaints, to managing other employees, to human resources management work. I learned a great deal during my tenure with the company. I made long-lasting friendships. The company paid for my Masters degree. I was given many wonderful opportunities, and I'll always be grateful for that.

But was I happy at work? Oh, there were good times, sometimes even happy times. I'm usually a glass-half-full kind of guy, so I rode through the rough times without too much stress. Yet I was vaguely, and sometimes very, dissatisfied.

Why, you might ask? I have thought about it for quite some time now, and while there were multiple reasons I think I have narrowed it down to a few major issues. First, there was not a clear connection between my work and the overall mission of the organization. I never knew how my work fit into the grand scheme of things.

Something else became clear as I began to work for the library district. With my previous employer, I began to realize that I wanted to do something that would, directly or indirectly, give back to the community. I wanted to do something for the common good. I was growing tired of working to fill the pockets of the CEO, the shareholders, and our own wallets. This was the other major dissatisfaction for me.

Many people prefer working in the private sector. I understand that completely. It does have its advantages.

But for me, the public sector is where it's at.

I'm a big believer in acknowledging the fact that we all have choices. They may not always be easy choices; often they are very difficult choices. But I believe that the old saying is true: The only thing we must do in life is die. Everything else is a choice.

Some choices are made easier by circumstances. While working for the aforementioned telecommunications corporation, there were many threats of layoffs through the years. After enduring and surviving many rounds of down sizing that affected my peers across the company, and after handling many of the layoffs myself as a Human Resources Manager (a gut-wrenching experience, to be sure), my number eventually came up. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

I had a chance to seek other opportunities with the company after the layoff became effective, but I decided against it. I decided that I wanted less stress in my life, for starters. I wanted to grow personally and professionally. I wanted to work for an organization that was much smaller than the over 50,000 employee workforce that I came from. I wanted to feel valued and listened to. Of course, fair pay and benefits were in the picture as well, but I was willing to face the inevitable decrease in compensation that the public sector provides in comparison with the private sector.

I may be an optimist, but I'm also a realist. Everything is not rosy in the public employment world. Funding, for example, is a constant concern, no matter how financially stable your public employer might be. There are also the usual workplace woes, from employee relations challenges to office politics to communications and trust issues.

But in spite of it all, those of us in the public sector know why we are here. Everything we do is in support of the community. It is a selfless and honorable endeavor.

And that's why, at least for us, working in the public employment world is a winner. Hands down.

August 24, 2006 - Youth Initiative better for community and families

It's a marvel to most adults that we made it this far. At least, I know some of the chances I took as a young adult might well have killed me.

The field of brain development research continues to shed light on all facets of human life. And what we've learned, at least about teenagers, borders on the insulting. Or does it?

In brief, it comes down to this: teenagers have a high predilection for risky business, coupled with a really startling lack of judgment.

Those aren't the same thing. Corporate CEO's routinely take risks -- but usually (or so Wall Street fervently hopes) there's a reason for it. And lack of judgment isn't just lack of experience. You don't see nearly as many 8-10 year olds with quite that reckless disregard for personal safety, even when it involves skateboards.

No, it's about the brain. It's a time of rapid change: chemicals pumping, neurons crackling with electricity. It's part of what gives teenagers that amazing energy and potential.

But there can be a dark side. At least some of them (see "risky business," above) cause trouble - or are its victims.

Douglas County is at a crossroads. We can follow the path of other counties in Colorado, and begin to build up a slow, cumbersome, crisis-based social services system.

Or, we can invest in a refreshing alternative: the Douglas County Youth Initiative.

The Initiative is one of several projects of the Partnership of Douglas County Governments. As far as I know, it represents the only example of shared staffing in the county -- multiple agencies contributing to a single staff position. Currently, those agencies include Douglas County, the towns of Parker and Castle Rock, the city of Lone Tree, and the Douglas County School District.

That position is held by Carla Turner, who came to the county about 9 months ago with loads of experience in everything from social services to criminal justice. But what she brings to the table is not just depth of experience.

She also brings a deep ability to analyze systems.

I have the privilege to serve on the DCYI Executive Board, and she and I were talking about this recently. She walked me through a not-uncommon scenario: a male teen with some anger issues, who keeps picking fights with his sister.

In the more typical government approach, there really isn't much that can be done until a crime is committed -- assault. At that point, the young man is tussling with the law, and the family is enmeshed with all kinds of mysterious, stressful proceedings and hearings and attorney costs.

The parents may look for an alternative on their own - sending their son to military school, for example. But then they find out that such schools are mighty pricey -- $22,000 a year, or more.

The result: time, trouble, and tension. No resolution.

Carla, working in close communication with a variety of agencies, has put together something called "WrapArounD." Under this model, things are a little different.

First off, when the parents call with concerns, a team is quickly assembled to take a look at the situation. Instead of reacting to a brush with the law, the focus is on providing assessments and resources to avoid the triggering incident.

What's the bottom line? More real help for real people. Positive, not punitive, engagements with the community. Lower crime.

Oh, and savings. It's much, much, cheaper to do things this way. She's proved it.

Thanks to Carla and her contacts, I'm also happy to report that the library now has a thorough, online guide to local resources for youth.

From our main page at www.DouglasCountyLibraries.org, click on the "Douglas County & Community" tab. Then click on the left tab for "Community Resources." There are a lot of good people there, just waiting to help.

What's the lesson?

Just because teens have brain development issues, doesn't mean the rest of us can't use ours.

August 17, 2006 - back to school

I have a glad and broken heart. Our little girl doesn't live here anymore -- she's off to school in Europe.

I remember being surprised, when Maddy was wee, how much she brought back memories of my own childhood. When we put her on a plane for London (with all her buddies, who were headed off to perform at the Fringe Festival in Edinburgh, Scotland), I suddenly remembered when my own parents dropped me off at college.

I'm guessing it's more fun to go to England, Scotland, then to school in Germany, than it was to be dropped off in Normal, Illinois. But this part was the same: Maddy didn't look back. It was all excitement and new beginnings for her. I didn't look back, either.

It has now occurred to me that, just possibly, my parents were sorry to see me go. They might even have been proud of me, as I am bursting with pride over my daughter.

But they had other children to love. And so do we. Our son, Max, is starting middle school. Here we go again!

I like shopping for school supplies. There is a great earnestness to the fresh notebooks, the new pens and pencils. There is even something charming about the backpacks. Let's pack up! We're off to the Land of Knowledge.

I like that our school has provided Max with an organizer: developing good habits of scheduling and project management will serve him his whole life long.

There's another school supply that you may not have thought of -- although many Douglas County schools have begun to add it to their lists. What's that? A public library card.

A library card is important for at least three reasons.

1. Homework. School doesn't end when the last bell rings. There are papers to research, and reports to write. There are assignments that will not be remembered until after the school library has closed. The library card not only gives the young student the ability to take home mounds of books, magazines, and other media. It also unlocks our 24/7 databases, allowing research to happen even after the public library shuts down for the night, but before tomorrow's first class, when the report is due.

The library also, of course, provides space to study, or to meet with friends. But you don't need a card for that.

2. Fun. Let's not forget fiction. For those children who learn to love books, books are part of a great thirst for life. By the time I was Max's age, I had already lived a life as a colonist on Mars (Heinlein's "Red Planet"), survived a plague that wiped out 99% of the earth's population (George R. Stewart's "Earth Abides"), and more.

I know there are many parents who worry about their children finding out about the difficulties and complexities of life too soon. I worry about them finding out too late. Reading "for fun" also has a serious purpose: building up a mental skill set, insights into people and situations, that will enable your children to survive, and thrive, even in chaos.

3. A reminder of the civic dimension of life. Our children are endlessly bombarded with advertisements for this or that product. It makes it easy to miss something else: the grown-ups in our society have invested in a variety of infrastructures designed to help all of us be smarter and healthier, to not only give us rich internal resources, but to make us stronger through community and connection.

School is one destination in the Land of Knowledge. But your library is a passport to many other countries, both in that hemisphere -- and beyond.

August 10, 2006 - let's catalog the community

A couple of years ago, we were working on the design of our Philip S. Miller Library in Castle Rock. To that end, we did what we always do: talk with the community.

We held meetings with seniors, elementary school students, civic groups, and storytime moms. We listened to business people and government workers. Over and over, we asked, "What do you want to see in a library?"

There was a lot of overlap. Everybody wanted us to have books, books, and more books. Another strong contingent asked for recorded books -- on audiotape and CD.

Many people pushed us to greatly expand our public computers. They liked our big, fast, Internet pipeline.

Oh, and here's the one that always tickles me: they wanted fire and water. Almost every time I have held a focus group in Douglas County, eventually somebody brings up the importance of fireplaces (gathering around the hearth, warmth, shelter), and the sound of running water. People want to be inside and outside at the same time.

Well, all of our libraries do have fireplaces now. We haven't quite worked out how to do the kayak-ready river people seem to want, but we have experimented with small sculptures that recycle water and produce a pleasant burbling.

People also, consistently, asked for more public art. And so it is that most of our public libraries now also serve as community galleries.

The big surprise for me was the strong request for more public meeting rooms. Our old library had just one big meeting space, about 500 square feet. But the request for more made me go back and examine the pattern of use.

Sure enough, that room was booked Monday through Thursday night, a year in advance. But not all of our meetings were big ones. Sometimes, fewer than half a dozen folks were looking for gathering space.

Our projected new library space was slated for about 30,000 square feet. By the time we were done, at least 5,000 of that was dedicated to variously sized public meeting rooms: a big room that held about 150 people (or could be divided into two rooms holding about 65 each), a couple of spaces that seated about 20, another that seated 8-12, and a handful of big, office-size spaces for 1-5. That doesn't include our storytime space.

One of our staff members was troubled by this. "Does this mean," she asked us, "that people don't really want a library at all? They want us to be some kind of convention center!"

I think a lot about the question of mission creep -- what happens when public institutions start accepting more and more responsibilities that aren't really a part of their job. Ultimately, I think, such institutions fail to do anything well.

But I didn't, and don't, think that's the case here.

What is the job of the public library? Here's my read on it: to gather, to organize, and to present to the community the intellectual assets of our culture.

Books are obvious examples. Music is another. Movies are a third. And the burgeoning world of electronic information is yet another. What's missing?

You are! Even in the wired age, how do most of us get the information we're looking for? From each other!

The people within a community are just as much an "intellectual asset," a resource for learning, as any book we've got.

But that means more than just providing public meeting space. It also means that we need to apply the librarian skill set to the populations where we live. We need to catalog the community.

What does that look like? At a minimum, our website should contain comprehensive listings, boosted by a powerful search mechanism, of all those groups mentioned above: seniors, business people, school populations, government workers, civic groups, and more.

Ideally, someone should be able to type into our website, for instance, "home schooling," and not only get our books on the subject, not only retrieve a host of relevant electronic periodical articles, but also find out about area organizations that support home schooling, and when they might meet at the library.

Not too long ago, I read about a library in Scandinavia (I think) that took the idea one step further: need an expert? Look one up in at the library. Check him out!

I don't know how they handle renewals, or fines. But it's a good idea. It's the right idea.August 10, 2006 - let's catalog the community

A couple of years ago, we were working on the design of our Philip S. Miller Library in Castle Rock. To that end, we did what we always do: talk with the community.

We held meetings with seniors, elementary school students, civic groups, and storytime moms. We listened to business people and government workers. Over and over, we asked, "What do you want to see in a library?"

There was a lot of overlap. Everybody wanted us to have books, books, and more books. Another strong contingent asked for recorded books -- on audiotape and CD.

Many people pushed us to greatly expand our public computers. They liked our big, fast, Internet pipeline.

Oh, and here's the one that always tickles me: they wanted fire and water. Almost every time I have held a focus group in Douglas County, eventually somebody brings up the importance of fireplaces (gathering around the hearth, warmth, shelter), and the sound of running water. People want to be inside and outside at the same time.

Well, all of our libraries do have fireplaces now. We haven't quite worked out how to do the kayak-ready river people seem to want, but we have experimented with small sculptures that recycle water and produce a pleasant burbling.

People also, consistently, asked for more public art. And so it is that most of our public libraries now also serve as community galleries.

The big surprise for me was the strong request for more public meeting rooms. Our old library had just one big meeting space, about 500 square feet. But the request for more made me go back and examine the pattern of use.

Sure enough, that room was booked Monday through Thursday night, a year in advance. But not all of our meetings were big ones. Sometimes, fewer than half a dozen folks were looking for gathering space.

Our projected new library space was slated for about 30,000 square feet. By the time we were done, at least 5,000 of that was dedicated to variously sized public meeting rooms: a big room that held about 150 people (or could be divided into two rooms holding about 65 each), a couple of spaces that seated about 20, another that seated 8-12, and a handful of big, office-size spaces for 1-5. That doesn't include our storytime space.

One of our staff members was troubled by this. "Does this mean," she asked us, "that people don't really want a library at all? They want us to be some kind of convention center!"

I think a lot about the question of mission creep -- what happens when public institutions start accepting more and more responsibilities that aren't really a part of their job. Ultimately, I think, such institutions fail to do anything well.

But I didn't, and don't, think that's the case here.

What is the job of the public library? Here's my read on it: to gather, to organize, and to present to the community the intellectual assets of our culture.

Books are obvious examples. Music is another. Movies are a third. And the burgeoning world of electronic information is yet another. What's missing?

You are! Even in the wired age, how do most of us get the information we're looking for? From each other!

The people within a community are just as much an "intellectual asset," a resource for learning, as any book we've got.

But that means more than just providing public meeting space. It also means that we need to apply the librarian skill set to the populations where we live. We need to catalog the community.

What does that look like? At a minimum, our website should contain comprehensive listings, boosted by a powerful search mechanism, of all those groups mentioned above: seniors, business people, school populations, government workers, civic groups, and more.

Ideally, someone should be able to type into our website, for instance, "home schooling," and not only get our books on the subject, not only retrieve a host of relevant electronic periodical articles, but also find out about area organizations that support home schooling, and when they might meet at the library.

Not too long ago, I read about a library in Scandinavia (I think) that took the idea one step further: need an expert? Look one up in at the library. Check him out!

I don't know how they handle renewals, or fines. But it's a good idea. It's the right idea.

August 3, 2006 - follow the formula for happiness

Suppose that there were a simple formula for happiness?

Well, according to Jonathan Haidt, there is. In his book, "The Happiness Hypothesis," he just gives it away:

H = S + C + V

Any questions? I thought there might be.

H stands for "happiness."

S stands for "set point." That's the idea that you're more or less genetically programmed to have a range of responses to the world, broadly falling into either optimistic or pessimistic.

The cheerful, upbeat folks, according to Haidt, were "winners of the cortical lottery." The paranoid, suspicious, depressed folks, were not. The cheerful folks don't necessarily deserve praise for being positive, and the downbeat ones don't necessarily deserve blame for being negative.

The positive ones do tend to be healthier and happier, though. They respond to challenges more quickly, and do a better job of weathering times of adversity.

It turns out that there are three clearly demonstrated ways for even the pessimists to effect a change in their world view and feelings.

First is meditation. This technique is simple to explain but surprisingly hard to master. Usually, it involves little more than just sitting quietly for even 5-15 minutes a day, and trying to keep the attention focused on something like your own breathing.

Why does it work? Because you retrain the mind to break the autonomic train of associations. You learn to detach and notice, rather than just get swept up into a mental or emotional narrative.

A second technique is cognitive therapy. This, too, takes some effort.

Here's a simplified example. Let's say that every time you look at somebody, you feel a rush of paranoia or fear. If you're in cognitive therapy, you have learned to be alert to this, and have prepared an alternative.

For instance, when you feel that negative rush, you mentally pause, and summon a memory of something kind or good the other person did. This changes your feelings about that person.

You keep practicing this, day after day, until again, you retrain yourself.

But meditation and cognitive therapy take not just persistent effort, but time. The third way is Prozac. And there's something suspicious about just popping a pill and being better.

Psychologists still aren't altogether sure why or how it works. Yet Prozac has been clinically demonstrated to change not just attitudes -- it's neither a depressant nor a stimulant -- but the fundamental behavior of your whole body. Prozac begins working in surprising ways: with changes in the actions of your intestines to the rhythm of your sleeping patterns.

And for many people, it seems to have the same results of years of professional therapy. But overnight. That isn't to say, of course, that it's right for everybody.

C stands for the conditions of your life. Some of them you can't change: your age, your race, and for some people, your health. For instance, you might have been paralyzed, or been diagnosed with a difficult disease.

But there are other things that can be changed: your job, where you live, or your marital status. Interestingly, Haidt points out the importance of noise -- an intermittent but uncontrolled environmental condition that can eat away at your happiness, almost without you noticing.

V stands for voluntary activities. Haidt describes a set of experiments with some surprising results. One group of people was told to take some time every day to do something they really enjoyed, just for themselves. Let's say it's "have an ice cream." Then they had to record how they felt an hour later, a day later, and a week later.

Another group was given the assignment of doing something for somebody else -- so-called "random acts of kindness."

A similar experiment was done with seniors -- one group, who hadn't volunteered before, was given the assignment of visiting and assisting other seniors.

The finding? Doing something for somebody else, not yourself, was by far the most powerful voluntary activity, resulting in significant and long lasting improvements in health and happiness.

It turns out that scientifically speaking, it truly is better to give than to receive.

Psychology has gotten pretty interesting lately. I can recommend "The Happiness Hypothesis" as a fascinating overview of the field. And it's anything but formulaic.