How Meetings and Dealing with Teenagers Are Similar
I have a board meeting tonight. Now, don’t get me wrong, I usually enjoy going to them because I have many friends on this board and it’s a great chance to see them. We do good work, when we’re efficient, and when we’re not efficient, we certainly mean well. Our hearts are in the right place. But our mouths sometimes get us into trouble (and if not our mouths, other people’s). Kind of reminds me of dealing with my children. They are both wonderful and they have the best of intentions, but sometimes, well…
And so, I thought I’d make a list of how board meetings and dealing with teenagers (or almost-teenagers) are similar. Here goes:
They’re loud. When my daughters are together, the decibel level increases substantially. Each one tries to out-talk the other, and if they feel they are not being listened to, they get louder. They tell us more about school and their friends than probably most kids tell their parents, but their motivation is the chance to get attention. One hears the other telling a story and wants to get in on the action. There is rarely a day that they are quiet, and when they are, it’s never a good thing.
The same is true at board meetings. We start off well at the meetings, paying attention to whomever is speaking, raising our hands when we want to be heard and contributing to the conversations as necessary. But inevitably, as the meeting drags on, and the agenda seems to get longer, we splinter off into smaller conversations. The soft droning buzz permeates the room and everyone talks louder.
They text. Despite all the warnings made by my husband and myself, my kids spend the majority of their home time texting their friends, non-stop. It doesn’t matter what else is going on—watching TV, reading, even doing homework, they are using their phones and electronic devices to have constant conversations with their friends (I swear mom, I was asking her about homework!). We’ve implemented limits—not during dinner, not while we’re talking to them, etc.—but at times it does seem like a losing battle.
Everyone at our board meeting has at least one other job. We’re all busy people and our time is precious to us. We don’t mean to be rude, and we do try to limit ourselves, but texting during the meetings has become somewhat of a necessary evil. Whether it’s to text our spouse that we’re running late, text a colleague to ask a question, or text someone across the table so that we can cut down on the chatter, we’re constantly connected.
They’re passionate. My daughters are very different from each other. I have often joked that when we wanted a second child, God knew what he/she was doing by making sure to give us a very different child than our first, because honestly, I don’t think I could handle two of the same of either of them! They quite often take different positions on things that matter to them, and they are always convinced that they are right. Not only is each of them right, exclusively, but the other one is absolutely wrong. Trying to point out the fallacies in their statements usually results in tears. I’ve learned to wait until they’ve calmed down before pointing out that perhaps the sister is not completely wrong and perhaps there might actually be some similarities between their two arguments. Blushing and sheepish agreement usually follows. Until the next time, when the other can’t possibly be right.
Our committee chairs are passionate about what they do as well. They are convinced that the needs of their committee are important and must be addressed, and rightfully so. They will argue for their committee and the affected congregants, usually with well-thought out reasons and back-up information. Each chair has different methods of doing this, but the end result is usually what’s best for everyone as a whole, although the sparks do make things interesting.
Fairness counts. If my husband hears one of my daughters say “but that’s not fair” one more time, I think he might actually explode. We’ve always prided ourselves on recognizing the differences between our two daughters and parenting them as individuals, rather than as clones. That sometimes means that one gets to do something the other one doesn’t, or one gets to do something before the other one (and not always the oldest first). In general, if you were to keep a tally (and I’m sure both of my daughters have one somewhere), over time everything would even out. But in the heat of the moment, that’s not always obvious and man, do we hear about it.
There is no board member more important than another, and no committee with more importance than any other either. However, it is inevitable that some groups are given more attention at one time or another, or more money to implement programs at a particular time. While our board members are too mature to actually yell “that’s not fair,” there are times when it does seem that way.
But I NEED this! As my daughters get older, they come over to talk to me slightly less than they used to, unless they want something. Then they are all smiles and chatty and polite while they make their case for whatever it is that they absolutely can’t live without. You know that fairness tally they’re keeping? Well, they’re really lucky I’m not keeping a request tally (or maybe I should). I’ve received PowerPoint presentations about the benefits of a laptop and the reasons they wanted a rabbit. I’ve listened to why they need more allowance and had my weekends interrupted with trips to the mall because they have “nothing to wear.” I’ve started quoting words from a song, “It’s not having what you want, it’s wanting what you’ve got.” And hiding.
Our board has a limited budget from which to work and no built-in cushion for anything extra. Our eyes are bigger than our stomachs, and we’re constantly having to do more with less. At budget time, our meetings go for hours as we haggle over every cent, trying to keep costs down but still have money for the programs we need. If my children ever attended these meetings, they’d learn some valuable begging lessons. I’ll never let them accompany me. Ever.
And so, when my husband looks at me and says, “Another meeting tonight?” and lists all the things I’ll be missing by leaving—arguments about bedtimes, arguments about dinner, arguments about homework—as if I’m going off on a vacation, I just smile and roll my eyes (my kids have taught me well). Because while I might be avoiding those arguments, I’m still walking into a room of people who want to discuss money allotment, time allotment and resource allotment. Not that much of a difference.
