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The story behind the story
I’m a culture wonk. From my first experience as an exchange student during high school living with a family in France, I’ve been fascinated by the wide variety of ways in which it is possible to conduct a life. Even more compelling to me is how our collective patterns in a particular time and place create a culture where those behaviors and expectations become the norm. What seems odd in one place can be utterly common in another, and this applies as much to the micro-cultures of families, schools, and workplaces as to societies as a whole.
I chose my first job out of college in large part due to the company culture. As a freshly-minted liberal arts graduate ready to take on the world, my approach to finding a job in the early 1990s went something like this: I picked up a book called The 100 Best Companies to Work for in America, figuring I would try to get hired by the best and then work my way down from there. I discovered that two of the one hundred best were in Chicago-— Motorola and The Leo Burnett Company. Motorola was in the suburbs and not making anything particularly exciting, at least to me. But I was wowed by The Leo Burnett Company, a Chicago-based advertising agency. Visitors were greeted in each reception area with a bowl full of free apples. If employees needed to travel for work, they were flown first class, reasoning that if you were going to be inconvenienced by travel, at least you could be made comfortable. Their roster of clients included blue-chip companies, with long-standing agency relationships-- some going back fifty years. I was smitten from the start with this Leo Burnett Company where people were so clearly valued, both as clients and employees. During my second round of interviews, a stand-out moment was returning after lunch to my lead interviewer’s corner office and finding him not there. As I lingered in the hallway waiting for Bob to return, his assistant, a colorful character named Beth Wernick, leaned over her desk to confide: “Are you looking for Bob? He’s probably just in the bathroom, but let me check.” With that, she turned around, hopped up to stand on her swivel chair, cupped her hands over her mouth, and bellowed over all the cubicles: “BAAAAHHHB….” While I stood gaping, my eyes as wide as the shiny brass buttons of my new suit, no one else was fazed in the least by the outburst. And Bob did not reply. Beth turned back around, shrugged her shoulders and said, “Have a seat. He’ll be back in a minute.” This vivid experience, even more than the many interviews with impressive and interesting people, made me think that this was the place I wanted to work. My takeaway was that this organization was filled with real people, not cardboard cutouts. People here were quirky and funny and alive. They were not expected to check their personalities at the door. Happily, I was offered the job and I took it, joining the vivid cast of characters at The Leo Burnett Company. My work life began in technicolor, and I’ve been studying and shaping workplace culture ever since.
Fast forward twenty years. I’m the mother of two school-aged children, who are typically in the process of making or building something. A dear friend, observing my parenting style and the overall creative freedom-with–responsibility environment of our home, asked if I knew much about Montessori. I said no, though I had spent much of my childhood inventing games and playing with the boy across the street who went to a Montessori school. She told me I had a Montessori life, that she sent her daughters to a Montessori school so they would turn out like my kids, and suggested that I would adore Maria’s books on development and education. She was right. I devoured the books, occasionally gasping as I read, because of how totally true and wise and yes! her observations of human behavior and the resulting approach to education felt. It aligned so completely with what I had experienced about people’s natural development—the desire for freedom, the quest for mastery, the need to know why, the importance of environment and appropriate materials. So I kept reading. I dug up studies on the effectiveness of Montessori education, found fascinating validation of the Montessori approach through neuroscience, and read with enthusiasm about the growing trend toward Montessori public schools.
Around this same time, I took on a new position at the renowned design & innovation firm IDEO, with the task of helping nudge the culture in the Chicago studio in a healthier direction. My role also involved contributing to the larger conversation about people and culture across the global organization. On a sunny January morning, I found myself walking through Palo Alto toward the home of an IDEO partner who was hosting a meeting in his living room. We starting sticking post-it notes on the wall as we came up with ideas on how to move away from some of the missteps in recent years as the company got more conventional in their approach to careers and titles. IDEO founder David Kelley was there, and reminded us that we, as leaders, got to imagine work the way it could and should be, inviting us to question any assumption we held about business as usual. As we tossed out ideas on how to ensure we were human-centered in everything we did, I mentioned Montessori. Had we considered what we might learn from that approach? David Kelley nearly leapt out of his chair with enthusiasm for the idea. His response led me to believe I might be on to something calling for more exploration. So I set out to document how Montessori methods are being applied in the most innovative workplaces, and how those businesses are thriving as a result. My experiences were life-affirming and inspiring, and I am delighted to share them with you through this book. I hope you will enjoy it.
© 2013 Pam Daniels. All rights reserved.
I chose my first job out of college in large part due to the company culture. As a freshly-minted liberal arts graduate ready to take on the world, my approach to finding a job in the early 1990s went something like this: I picked up a book called The 100 Best Companies to Work for in America, figuring I would try to get hired by the best and then work my way down from there. I discovered that two of the one hundred best were in Chicago-— Motorola and The Leo Burnett Company. Motorola was in the suburbs and not making anything particularly exciting, at least to me. But I was wowed by The Leo Burnett Company, a Chicago-based advertising agency. Visitors were greeted in each reception area with a bowl full of free apples. If employees needed to travel for work, they were flown first class, reasoning that if you were going to be inconvenienced by travel, at least you could be made comfortable. Their roster of clients included blue-chip companies, with long-standing agency relationships-- some going back fifty years. I was smitten from the start with this Leo Burnett Company where people were so clearly valued, both as clients and employees. During my second round of interviews, a stand-out moment was returning after lunch to my lead interviewer’s corner office and finding him not there. As I lingered in the hallway waiting for Bob to return, his assistant, a colorful character named Beth Wernick, leaned over her desk to confide: “Are you looking for Bob? He’s probably just in the bathroom, but let me check.” With that, she turned around, hopped up to stand on her swivel chair, cupped her hands over her mouth, and bellowed over all the cubicles: “BAAAAHHHB….” While I stood gaping, my eyes as wide as the shiny brass buttons of my new suit, no one else was fazed in the least by the outburst. And Bob did not reply. Beth turned back around, shrugged her shoulders and said, “Have a seat. He’ll be back in a minute.” This vivid experience, even more than the many interviews with impressive and interesting people, made me think that this was the place I wanted to work. My takeaway was that this organization was filled with real people, not cardboard cutouts. People here were quirky and funny and alive. They were not expected to check their personalities at the door. Happily, I was offered the job and I took it, joining the vivid cast of characters at The Leo Burnett Company. My work life began in technicolor, and I’ve been studying and shaping workplace culture ever since.
Fast forward twenty years. I’m the mother of two school-aged children, who are typically in the process of making or building something. A dear friend, observing my parenting style and the overall creative freedom-with–responsibility environment of our home, asked if I knew much about Montessori. I said no, though I had spent much of my childhood inventing games and playing with the boy across the street who went to a Montessori school. She told me I had a Montessori life, that she sent her daughters to a Montessori school so they would turn out like my kids, and suggested that I would adore Maria’s books on development and education. She was right. I devoured the books, occasionally gasping as I read, because of how totally true and wise and yes! her observations of human behavior and the resulting approach to education felt. It aligned so completely with what I had experienced about people’s natural development—the desire for freedom, the quest for mastery, the need to know why, the importance of environment and appropriate materials. So I kept reading. I dug up studies on the effectiveness of Montessori education, found fascinating validation of the Montessori approach through neuroscience, and read with enthusiasm about the growing trend toward Montessori public schools.
Around this same time, I took on a new position at the renowned design & innovation firm IDEO, with the task of helping nudge the culture in the Chicago studio in a healthier direction. My role also involved contributing to the larger conversation about people and culture across the global organization. On a sunny January morning, I found myself walking through Palo Alto toward the home of an IDEO partner who was hosting a meeting in his living room. We starting sticking post-it notes on the wall as we came up with ideas on how to move away from some of the missteps in recent years as the company got more conventional in their approach to careers and titles. IDEO founder David Kelley was there, and reminded us that we, as leaders, got to imagine work the way it could and should be, inviting us to question any assumption we held about business as usual. As we tossed out ideas on how to ensure we were human-centered in everything we did, I mentioned Montessori. Had we considered what we might learn from that approach? David Kelley nearly leapt out of his chair with enthusiasm for the idea. His response led me to believe I might be on to something calling for more exploration. So I set out to document how Montessori methods are being applied in the most innovative workplaces, and how those businesses are thriving as a result. My experiences were life-affirming and inspiring, and I am delighted to share them with you through this book. I hope you will enjoy it.
© 2013 Pam Daniels. All rights reserved.
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