I posted on my blog this week for the first time in five months. I got five comments! My ego made me check my stats and I discovered my most popular category – the stuff folks really dig – bitching.
So here goes.
Two days ago the Los Angeles Times ran a front page story on how dry New Mexico is. How dry is New Mexico, my land of enchantment? The driest of the dry according to the Times. Last year, for example, it rained a total of THREE inches. But in the last 30 days we have experienced double that rainfall. It’s been a typical monsoon season. Clear and sunny in the morning – hot by noon – clouds rumble in – wind kicks up and rain dumps on our desert dusty land. It’s been delightful.
My drive home on the Cochiti Highway each night is beyond belief. The usual cracked parched dirt has been replaced with a lovely blanket of green. The cows are grazing, the bunnies are feasting, it’s like living in the Northwest without the gloom.
Last night as I was sipping my cocktail on my back patio I noticed Mark tugging on a little plant that had begun to grow between our flagstone. I shrieked at him. What are you doing? He said, “I’m pulling up a weed.” That’s not a weed! That’s a desert miracle. Some persistent god given growing living plant that is merely adding color to our otherwise beige patio. Nope, Mark argued, it’s a weed.
What is the definition of a weed? A weed is something that you did not plant and feel like you may have no control over unless you kill it at first site. Doesn’t matter if it’s nice looking, may serve some purpose, it’s not in my plan, it’s got to go.
It got me thinking about the culture of credit unions. A “weed” is often seen as new thought or the enthusiasm of a new employee wanting to improve something by suggesting change. Management often sees this as a threat because THEY didn’t plant it and if not killed at first site could grow out of control (influence other staff).
Weed killer comes in many forms – the spray kind “Oh, we tried that once.” The classic manual weed pull “Our computer system can’t handle that.” And finally bringing in the big guns, going to the root (the dandelion digger) to make sure the weed will not return “This is the way we’ve always done it.”
I vow to protect my weeds. To find beauty in them and celebrate their success. I’m going to look at them differently, as certainly having some potential. Especially when there’s been a severe innovation drought.