You Can Lead A Horse To Water, But He’s Gotta Want To Swim

The titles are the hardest parts on these little missives, you know. I’m supposed to write something that gets you all excited and uncontrollably interested in clicking and reading more. Today I’m thinking about the process of moving some of the more “traditional” members of the training community into the realm of new media — blogs, wikis, podcasts, Second Life, Facebook, Twitter, Blotto, Snackit, Zeldasize and Morlo.

(You recognized all those, right? You’re hip? With it?) Well lately I’ve been talking to an audience that thinks every one of those things is made up, scary, and pretty much outside their comfort zone. I started teaching people a lot of years ago, and was really comfortable with it — standing up in front of the room talking, just like my 3rd grade teacher. She was really smart, I remembered — and then one day I saw her “Teacher’s Edition” of the textbook, with all the answers at the end of each chapter.

That’s when I became one of those difficult students. Talking to others, questioning authorities, coloring outside the lines. If you ask most of the people who know me now, they’ll tell you it hasn’t changed much. I’m always asking “why?” and trying it a different way, just to see what happens.

So — back to training. I’m working with a local training group to develop an event for them. It’s focused on “the future of training” — something I’m very interested in. I’ve spent lots of other people’s money on cutting edge techniques, experimented with thousands of victims, and had access to some of the sharpest minds on the planet in this discipline. (No, I’m not one of them. Metaphorically, I’m the blunt-nosed scissors of this discipline.)

My personality is very similar to a deaf and blind bulldog. Forging ahead, not listening, just slobbering over everything. And I’ve found that in my attempts to get this audience on board with some of the “scary” parts of this new world, I’m mostly just annoying them and coming off poorly. I assumed that once I had told them this stuff was neat, my job was finished. Everyone would jump on my band wagon (what is a band wagon, anyway?) and we’d all roll into the future together.

What I’m seeing is that there are very serious concerns that people have about leaving what they used to do, and jumping into something new and risky. What if I look silly? What if people take advantage of me? What if it doesn’t work perfectly the first time?

I’m not sure that I’ve really got an answer for any of those, to be honest. I’ve spent my life looking silly, so it’s not that big a deal. Lots of stuff I do is a huge disaster the first time. And I get taken advantage of a lot — like agreeing to work for a huge number of unpaid hours on an event that most of the members don’t want to attend.

But I am taking something away from this, other than money. I’m realizing that when I work with clients who actually PAY me, I need to remember that it’s not enough to be right. It’s not enough to push really hard, and to believe in what you’re doing.

I’ve gotta find a way to make sure they want to get on the wagon.