On learning from places you ‘shouldn’t’ be

A couple of weeks ago, I went to an evening event held in a local (and fantastic) independent bookshop.  The event was a talk given by one of my copywriting clients, so I went along to take a few notes for our next piece of work together.

I was a bit nervous, truth be told. The event was designed specifically for parents – my client is a children’s tutor – and I’m categorically not childed.  I assumed I’d feel out of place, and that nothing at the event would apply to me, just my work.

As it turned out, I was wrong on both counts.

Not only were there lots of other un-childed people in the audience, but one of the discussion topics was developing executive skills in childhood.  I’d missed a few back then, so I’m learning them now.  It’s simple and it’s enlightening.

When I thought about that event later, I realised that some of my best creative ideas, and the most useful things I’ve learned, have come from places I ‘shouldn’t’ have been in or gone to.  Case in point, my book about childfree women was inspired by a similar book I read about motherhood.

I’m not a mother, but I read a lot of books about motherhood.

For one thing, it’s always interesting to read about the path you didn’t take.  For another thing, most of my friends are mothers.  If you care about someone, it’s nice to know more about what their life might be like.

(Yes, I could ask, but I know that in a lot of cases I’d get the shiny director’s cut, not the messy extended take.  We all censor ourselves sometimes, even in front of our friends, and especially if a particular friend’s life is so dramatically different from our own).

Anyway, said book was funny, light-hearted, and inclusive.  I finished it wondering why nobody had written anything like it for non-mothers, so I had a go at it myself.  The book has fared quite well, so far.

(Once, I was asked to talk about my book on national radio with the wonderful Naga Munchetty.  Then I set my laptop to ‘Do Not Disturb’, which unbeknownst to me, also set my phone to ‘Do Not Disturb’.  I missed the studio call, which ended up going to someone else instead).

Back when I was still an HR manager, I had a revolutionary idea.

Well, I thought it was revolutionary, at least.

I was working for a management consultancy firm, and we’d just held a big fundraising event in the church hall opposite our fancy London office.  The church was running a course called ‘How to be Good’ that (it said) had nothing to do with God.  It merely wanted to teach essential human qualities – kindness, thoughtfulness, self-sacrifice – that it felt the world was starting to lose.

I found myself wondering: what if we sent our consultants on a course like that?  I wasn’t suggesting we sidestep the fancy MBAs and the gilded PhDs in organisational theory.  Just that we embalm them in a grounded sense of humanity that felt entirely missing from the whole shebang.

(In my experience, well-paid consultants – well-paid people, for that matter – like reading about how humans function.  The same company I worked for ran a compulsory ‘book club’, whose selections read like the authors were trying to explain human beings to aliens.

Also in my experience, well-paid people like God.  They like God, the Royal Family, and the Armed Forces, a lot).

Anyway.  I submitted a detailed proposal to our MD, which mostly focused on the marketing side of learning goodness, and how doing something unexpected and interesting might attract publicity, and eventually, more work.

I needn’t have bothered: the proposal was roundly rejected.  I’d expected as much, but I felt a little bit disappointed, too.

Reading this post back, I can see why my proposal was rejected.  It sounds mad, doesn’t it?  Another slice of evidence that shows why I should never have been an HR manager in the first place.

I still maintain, though, that everyone should go somewhere they ‘shouldn’t’ every now and again.  At worst, you come away with a different perspective.  At best, you make magic.