‘Mission Mirroring’: Towards a Theory of Internal Tension in Nonprofit Organizations
David Allyn, Ph.D. Director of Education, NJ SEEDS
Abstract
It is widely acknowledged that low-grade frustration exists throughout the nonprofit sector; this frustration is almost always attributed to issues of compensation, the burden of fundraising, limited advancement opportunity, and/or lack of strong leadership. In this paper, I argue that there is another, to date overlooked, reason for pervasive frustration in nonprofit organizations: divisive, internal conflict. Specifically, nonprofit organizations suffer from a type of conflict that is unique to the sector, a type of conflict I call “mission mirroring,� defined as the phenomenon that occurs when an organization becomes enmeshed internally in the same conflicts it was founded to deal with externally. I present three case studies to illuminate this phenomenon.
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Introduction Nonprofit – or “mission-driven” – organizations play a key role in contemporary American society, whether it be delivering direct services to those in need, raising awareness of entrenched social problems, advocating for the reform of governmental policies, or providing access to the arts or education. The nonprofit sector has grown exponentially over the past twenty years, becoming one of the most important components of the economy. Between 1994 and 2004 alone, there was a 64.7% increase in the number of public charities in the U.S. – representing three times the growth rate of the business sector (Independent, 2006). By 2008, there were approximately 1.5 million nonprofit organizations registered with the IRS, employing approximately 10 million people (about 7.5% of the total workforce) and accounting for 8.3% of salaries and wages. For prospective employees, the nonprofit sector is one of the most highly attractive sectors in the economy. “The genius of this sector— what continues to attract so many to nonprofit careers despite the potential disadvantages—is its promise of meaningful work leading to social change” (Cornelius, Covington, & Ruesga, 2008). It is no wonder then that organizational theorists and leading management gurus have turned their attention to the nonprofit sector. Best selling business expert Jim Collins, for instance, has published Good to Great and the Social Sectors, an attempt to distill a theory of management specifically relevant for nonprofit organizations. Brookings Institute Fellow Paul C. Light has identified “four pillars of high-performance” of successful nonprofitsi (Light, What It Takes to Make Charities Effective, 2005b; Light, The Four Pillars of High Performance, 2006; Light, The Search for Social Entrepreneurship, 2008b). There are now numerous graduate programs and academic centers focused on nonprofit management and “social entrepreneurship” (The Hauser Center for Nonprofit Organizations at Harvard, The Wagner School at NYU, and The Center for Nonprofit and Philanthropic Leadership at Rutgers, to name just three). The Democratic Leadership Council, in conjunction with Civic Enterprises, recently issued a
report on the nonprofit sector calling for widespread action by the Federal Government to keep the sector afloat during the current economic crisis (Bridgeland & Reed, 2009). Still, the nonprofit sector has serious issues with turn-over, frustration and “burn-out.” A recent report found that three out of four executive directors plan to leave their jobs within five years and that ten percent plan to leave within one year; meanwhile, one in three executive directors is ultimately forced out or fired (Bell, Moyers, & Wolfred, 2006). A 2008 study found that the average annual turnover rate for nonprofit organizations is 21%, and, perhaps even more important, a quarter of all positions remain unfilled four months or longer. The authors note that, “vacant positions, especially if they remain so for longer than several months, can have far reaching impact ranging from the need to cancel programs to reduction of staff and other infrastructure” (Opportunity Knocks, 2008). Meanwhile, nonprofits are often criticized for their lack of efficiency and fiscal accountability. A 2005 survey conducted by the Wagner School found that only 15 percent of Americans said they had a great deal of confidence in nonprofit organizations. Only 19 percent of Americans said nonprofit organizations do a very good job running their programs and services, whereas 66 percent said they waste money (Light, The Continuing Crisis in Charitable Confidence, 2005a; Light, How Americans View Charities: A Report on Charitable Confidence, 2008a). It is widely acknowledged that low-grade frustration exists throughout the nonprofit sector; this frustration is almost always attributed to issues of compensation, the burden of fundraising, limited advancement opportunity, and/or lack of strong leadership (Cornelius, et al., 2008). In this paper, I argue that there is another, to date overlooked, reason for pervasive frustration in nonprofit organizations: divisive, internal conflict. Specifically, nonprofit organizations suffer from a type of conflict that is unique to the sector, a type of conflict I call “mission mirroring.” Mission mirroring as I am defining it is the phenomenon that occurs when an organization becomes enmeshed internally in the same conflicts it was founded to deal with externally. For instance,
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when an organization committed to fighting ageism becomes embroiled in allegations of age discrimination. Or when a group focused on fighting racism finds itself in turmoil after the Executive Director is accused of being prejudiced. Or when the staff members of a museum complain bitterly that their work spaces are restrictive and aesthetically unpleasant. Or when the trustees of an organization committed to conflict resolution cannot themselves get along. Each of these instances is an example of mission mirroring: an internal conflict reflecting external concerns. Unfortunately, when it goes unchecked, mission mirroring can cause extensive disagreement (or downright chaos) within an organization.ii I believe nonprofit leaders – be they trustees or staff members – and scholars of nonprofit management would do well to familiarize themselves with the problem of mission mirroring, so that it can be identified and dealt with properly when it occurs. All too often, the failure to recognize mission mirroring for what it is leads to anger, blame, gossip, frustration, ad hominem attacks, and accusations of bias and injustice. These are typically followed by heavyhanded responses and/or bureaucratic solutions meant to forestall future conflict but which only further impair morale and increase organizational sluggishness. The net result is not only frustration and turnover but inefficiency and ineffectiveness. Fortunately, the recognition of mirroring for what it is – a normal, predictable and common dynamic that is not particular to specific personalities, specific issues or even to specific organizations, but rather common to mission-driven organizations as a group -- can help nip it in the bud.
“Mission Mirroring,” Its Causes and Effects Much research has been done on internecine conflict within businesses, political parties, unions, and social protest movements. Interpersonal conflict has been studied extensively by sociologistsiii, social psychologistsiv, organizational and managerial theoristsv, and conflict-resolution theorists.vi In the emerging field of nonprofit management studies, Peter Tsasis has looked at inter-organizational conflict
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(Tsasis, 2009), Joy McKeith has highlighted tensions between fundraising and program departments (McKeith, 1994), Martha Golensky has examined conflict between boards and executive directors (Golensky, 1993); and Peter Dobkin Hall has studied conflicting managerial styles (Hall, 1990). Nevertheless, the fact that conflict within nonprofit organizations often mirrors the core issues at stake has been largely overlooked. Like social protest movements, nonprofit organizations seek and attract individuals who are highly attuned to, and care about, a specific issue. Civil rights organizations attract those with a keen eye for injustice; gay rights organizations attract trustees and staff members especially sensitive to homophobia; educational organizations attract those who care about knowledge and abhor ignorance (Stryker, 1982; Gamson, 1992; Dutton & Dukerich, 1994; Gecas, 2000; Delfgaauw & Dur, 2008; Schneider, 2001). While not every new hire at a nonprofit is going to be motivated strictly by the mission of the organization (especially in low-level administrative roles), as a general rule, nonprofits attract and select on the basis of “concern for the mission,” “belief in the core values,” and “passion for the cause.” As a result, stakeholders of these organizations are likely to have highly attuned “radar” for the issues at play. Board members, senior staff, support staff, and even volunteers at an organization dedicated to advancing Reform Judaism are likely to be informed about, and opinionated regarding, Reformed Judaism. They are likely to have strong feelings about what Reformed Judaism is and what it is not, what it means, what role it plays in society, what its past says about its present, and who should be allowed to shape its future. In many ways they will consider themselves – consciously or not – experts on the issue at hand. In organizations, context is decisive, which is to say that perspectival frameworks shape the way stakeholders interpret events, actions, and decisions (Ghoshal & Bartlett, 1994; Glynn, 2000; Wrzesniewski, Dutton, & Debebe, 2003). Alas, individuals generally fail to recognize their own perspectival frameworks, a fact that leads to, and exacerbates, conflict (Ward & Ross, 1996). When
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nonprofit organizations are led and staffed by individuals with a strong sense of right and wrong regarding a particular issue, that issue will naturally come to frame perspectives on internal matters (Golden-Biddle & Rao, 1997). Perspectival contexts can color interpretations of fellow coworkers’ behavior; hiring, firing and promotion patterns; human resource policies; the setting of program priorities; the allocation of resources; marketing strategies; board decisions, etc. An acute sense of right and wrong combined with an informed knowledge of the issues at hand is a potent combination. We might say that if context is decisive, a context of moral absolutism is decisive absolutely. Stakeholders are likely to hold their organizations to an extremely high standard of perfection in regards to the central aspects of the mission. (At educational organizations, for example, a single misspelling in a publication can cause great consternation; at organizations committed to helping the blind, the use of sight-based metaphors such as ‘we saw numerous changes this past year’ often inflame stakeholder passions.) Even when nonprofit organizations hire individuals who are not mission-motivated, those individuals are likely to become influenced over time by the mission of the organization for which they now work. As Jane Dutton and Janet Dukerich note in their study of employees at the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey, “*A+n organization's image and identity guide and activate individuals' interpretations of an issue and motivations for action on it, and those interpretations and motivations affect patterns of organizational action over time” (Dutton J. a., 1991). In other words, groups have an effect on the norms and values of their members. Organizations that focus on environmentalism cannot but encourage a concern for energy-efficiency; those that focus on women’s issues cannot but inspire a concern for gender equity (and a concomitant tendency to notice when it is missing). Anyone who works in an organization committed to fighting drug abuse is apt to notice, and likely be alarmed by, evidence of such behavior. The mission-driven nature of nonprofit organizations invariably leads to an awareness of discrepancies between daily life within an organization and the values articulated in the
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mission (e.g. a manager in an anti-poverty organization who seems to be elitist or a trustee of an environmental organization who appears to be wasteful) (Dutton & Dukerich, 1994; Besharov, 2008). Given these factors, a nonprofit organization can become quickly ensnared in emotionally and intellectually charged conflicts. Loyalties and factions can rapidly develop as stakeholders seek out agreement among colleagues for their assertions of injustice or impropriety (Gabriel, 2000; Gergen, 2001). Meaning-making grows in fervor as divergent interpretations of events collide and infighting grows (Isabella, 1990; Weick, 1995; Brown & Humphreys, 2003; Balogun & Johnson, 2004). The net result is that social identities become more salient and powerful than individual identities (Tajfel & Turner, 1979). Meanwhile, the most highly charged terms within a given organization’s culture (e.g. ‘racist,’ ‘sexist,’ ‘classist,’ etc) are likely to be invoked and the day-to-day life of the organization tends to sink into a whirlpool of name-calling and recrimination. This is all a predictable part of what I am terming the mission mirroring dynamic. The following pages are intended to illuminate the mission mirroring dynamic as it plays out in real-life scenarios. To accomplish this, I provide case studies based on three existing nonprofit organizations. Each case study narrative is followed by a brief analysis and the paper ends with a concluding look at mission mirroring in the context of recent theoretical work on organizations and the nonprofit sector.
Methods In the following pages, I present three short case-studies of mission mirroring at different types of organizations. The first is a U.S.-based conflict resolution program with an international focus. The second is an educational access organization for high-achieving, low-income students. The third is a well known gay-rights organization. The first two case studies are based on personal observation and interviews with key participants, the third is based on data in the public record. Much of the data for
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the first two case studies come from my personal experience with these organizations in the role of staff member, volunteer, or board member. I have also relied on board minutes, bylaws, organization histories, published newsletters, reports, and conversations with other staff members. As an ethnographic study, this article relies on theory and method that assume that the observation of patterns of behavior across organizations can help to illuminate the existence of dynamics that are not specific to any given organization, group of individuals or set of issues. Clearly, my three case studies represent a convenience sample. Nonetheless, together the three examples cut across major aspects and issues of the nonprofit sector, including: “founder’s syndrome,” “mission creep,” board-staff relations, fundraising, program delivery, human resources, and public relations. They also cut across issues of race, gender, class, religion and sexual orientation. What unites these three organizations is the phenomenon of mission mirroring. Max Weber, Robert Park, Georg Simmel, Lewis Coser and Edward Alsworth Ross have all posited conflict as a positive force in social relations, a force that helps to define boundaries between groups, foster in-group unity and promote social change. By contrast, Talcott Parsons, William Gamson and others have argued that conflict is necessarily dangerous and undermining. In this paper, I start from the presumption that conflict is more divisive than it is productive, especially within an organization that has specific goals it must accomplish in order to survive. For nonprofit organizations – which are already burdened with fundraising obligations, compensation issues, costly turnover problems, and often difficult working conditions – internal conflict is especially problematic. My aim is to illustrate how mission mirroring occurs, how it is often misunderstood and misinterpreted, how the failure to recognize it for what it is only aggravates the problem, and how common it is across the wide spectrum of mission-driven organizations (i.e. how it is not linked to any particular cause or issue but rather is a cross-sector phenomenon). My ultimate hope is that this article
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will allow nonprofit leaders to depersonalize internal conflicts and view them from a broader, sectorwide perspective.
Case Study 1: A Conflict Resolution Program Plagued with Conflict Our initial case study examines the persistence of conflict in an otherwise highly successful organization founded to promote international understanding and reduce inter-ethnic strife. The organization has grown rapidly since its founding in 1993, earning international attention for its work and opening offices around the globe. Yet, in what appears to be a perversely ironic situation, the organization has been plagued with conflict from its inception. The concept of mirroring helps us to understand why this is so. Peace For Allvii was founded in the wake of the 1992 World Trade Center bombings with the aim of promoting harmony and understanding among children from the Middle East through a camp-based summer program. It was the brainchild of a charismatic journalist familiar with the issues and many of the key players in Middle Eastern politics. Through a combination of personal charm, passion, expertise, bravura and modest deception he was able to secure the support of the governments of Israel, Egypt and the Palestinian Authority, each of which agreed to send young boys (aged 11-13) to an initial summer session in the woods of Maine in 1993.viii Sixty Israeli, Palestinian and Egyptian youngsters and seven adult chaperones arrived in the United States that summer to participate in a program combining traditional summer camp sports activities (baseball, basketball, swimming, etc.) and facilitated ‘coexistence’ sessions. The sports activities were meant to promote casual friendship, while the coexistence sessions were meant to provide a forum for the discussion of “deeper”ix issues. The founder secured the post-season use of a Maine summer camp, retained a number of the camp counselors (who did not have any training in Middle Eastern politics), hired his stepson and a donor to serve as
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administrators, and hired three (two Israeli and one Palestinian) professional conflict-resolution facilitators. Despite hailing from “enemy nations,� the young Israelis, Egyptians and Palestinians easily adjusted to camp life. While there were some tensions (particularly after a Palestinian boy denied the historical reality of the Holocaust), the boys formed friendships across cultural lines. This was especially remarkable given the fact that the Israeli government chose campers on the basis of academic achievement, the Egyptian government selected campers who were the sons of socially connected families, and the Palestinians sent boys from the most troubled areas of the West Bank and Gaza. But it was clear there would be trouble from the start. The three professional conflictresolution facilitators became embroiled in a bitter dispute over the best approach to conflict-resolution facilitation. The division did not fall along national lines. One of the Israelis and the Palestinian took one view, while the other Israeli took another. The dispute was purely methodological (not political). But it intensified with each passing day. The founder of the program, his stepson, and the senior administrator did their best to intervene, but to no avail. The two sides stopped speaking to each other. Finally, the unallied Israeli announced her departure from the camp, declaring that she could not work under such conditions. She returned to Israel, never again to participate in the program. The irony of conflict resolution facilitators being paralyzed by conflict was not lost on many. Meanwhile, the adult chaperones had their own complaints. All six of the chaperones were school teachers. Despite their different national backgrounds, they shared a common interest in progressive education (hence their selection for participation in such an untraditional program). It was apparent soon after the start of the program, however, that they were dissatisfied with the hierarchical structure of the nascent organization, the top down decision-making process, and the lack of a clear curriculum. By the end of the summer, the Israeli, Egyptian and Palestinian teacher-chaperones had become united in their opposition to the American program leader-administrators.
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Despite these internal tensions, Peace for All benefited from impeccable timing: just as the first summer was coming to a close, it was announced that Rabin and Arafat would sign a peace agreement on the lawn of the White House. The Peace for All campers were invited to the signing ceremony, sharing seats on the White House lawn with senior leaders of the PLO, Israeli cabinet officials and Egyptian dignitaries. The program was subsequently featured in a glowing piece on 60 Minutes and quickly earned international attention and accolades. But the organization continued to suffer from internal dissension and dispute. The stepson of the founder took umbrage when he was the sole staff member to go unacknowledged by the founder during a thank-you speech at a luncheon at the U.S. State Department. The second senior administrator – a Quaker – expressed great displeasure with the founder over his temper. In one instance during the second summer of operations, the founder became so enraged by a camper’s unruly behavior he picked him up by the arms and swung him in circles. The founder’s own wife recalls, “He was an incredible man, but he kind of created conflict wherever he went.” In a twist of events, the founder was hired to serve as an employee of a larger and more established peace-promoting nonprofit, with the understanding that he would continue to run Peace for All. But a contest of wills between the head of the larger umbrella organization (a prominent intellectual and socialite) and the founder of Peace for All over the ideal direction of the peace movement led to the latter’s resignation and decision to full-time work as the Executive Director of Peace for All. Tension between the two men (by then both leaders in the field of peace promotion) persisted. With money pouring in and extraordinary press coverage, Peace for All was incorporated as a 501©3, a board was formed, and full-time staff members were hired. But the board became hotly divided between two factions. One wanted Peace for All to expand its mission to promote peace among youngsters from all war-torn regions; the second faction believed the organization should limit its scope
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to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. This divide would continue to plague the board – composed primarily of Upper East Side Jews with a long-standing interest in the Middle East -- for years. With many strong personalities on the board, trustee meetings became infamous for their high level of conflict.x Meanwhile, the founder and his Quaker second-in-command rarely saw eye-to-eye, the latter concerned that the organization was breeding conflict among former campers by doling out opportunities (e.g. to return as counselors, to appear on television, to attend school in the U.S.) unfairly. Tensions between the two were legion. On numerous occasions the founder raised his voice at her in public and spoke critically of her when she was not around. She, in turn, regularly threatened to quit. She finally did so, staying connected to the organization only as a volunteer. After the founder’s death in 2002, the organization slid into crisis. A new Executive Director was hired, but he refused to move from Washington, D.C. where he lived with his family, to New York City, where the organization’s main office was located. A geopolitical battle ensued with those in New York objecting to the Executive Director’s refusal to move north and the ED himself maneuvering to relocate the entire enterprise to DC. After several years, he was relieved of his duties by the board. The board then hired three more executive directors in a span of six years, each new hire presenting his or her own set of problems. Most of the issues stemmed from contests of authority between the board and the various ED’s. Conflict between the board and one executive director became so intense, a restraining order was secured against her to prevent access to the organization’s offices. Then, with the board unable to agree on a new person to helm the organization, the organization was forced to operate without an ED for over a year. Minor conflicts continued to persist as well. At one donor event, two guests nearly came to blows over the use of a chair. Meanwhile, the stepson who was initially hired to work at the camp (and continued to work part-time for the organization in various capacities) began publicly expressing bitterness when he was asked to step down from the board and no longer felt included in the
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organizational “family.” The founder’s biological son was allowed to remain on the board, but he had his own disputes with the board – specifically over whether or not the organization should provide humanitarian assistance to former campers in the West Bank and Gaza during Israeli attacks. Analysis. While it may seem paradoxical that an organization intended to diminish conflict in the world would itself become distracted by a sequence of internal conflicts over philosophy, hierarchy, mission, leadership style and loyalty, in fact, such a situation is readily predicted by the concept of mission mirroring. Peace for All attracts supporters with strong interest in, and opinions on, issues related to conflict and conflict-resolution. From the original team of coexistence facilitators to the trustees to the various executive directors to the founder himself, each and every person associated with Peace for All was attracted to the organization because of its mission to alleviate conflict in the Middle East. But those who are passionately concerned with conflict resolution tend to hold strong opinions about the right way to end conflict, whether at the philosophical or practical level. Debates over the right way to end conflict were at the heart of Peace for All’s internal dysfunction. Such debates were played out in the dispute between the first summer facilitators, in the antagonism between the Founder and his Quaker second-in-command, and in the bruising battles between the board members and the various executive directors they hired. Without any access to mission mirroring as a framework for understanding nonprofit dynamics, the various players were forced to resort to ad hominem attacks and the personalization of blame. At various times, fault was ascribed to the personality of the founder, to the personalities of the various staff members (e.g. the conflict resolution facilitators), to those of certain trustees, to those of the various executive directors, etc. But Peace for All’s various conflicts need to be understood together as normal symptoms of mission attraction and selection. Viewed in that light, the whole history of the organization starts to make sense. Peace for All is a conflict-prone organization because (not despite the fact that) it is an organization committed to conflict-resolution.
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Case Study 2 – A Question of Confidence School for Successxi is one of approximately 50 nonprofit organizations in the country with the goal of preparing high-potential, inner-city students for admission to elite secondary schools. It is one of the oldest of such organizations (being founded in the late 1960’s) and arguably the most respected. Each year, graduates of the program are admitted to New York City’s elite private schools. Older, postcollege alumni are eagerly recruited to work at top Wall Street firms. Nonetheless, for the first thirty years of its history, the organization was weighed down with dysfunction. Turn-over was exceptionally high. The Executive Director and some senior managers could not maintain the confidence of the staff. The organization’s policies, procedures and pedagogical methods were routinely condemned by staff members as elitist, educationally unsound and ethically suspect, while the ED routinely criticized the staff for being lazy – disagreements which clearly echo tensions between minority groups and elite private schools. Among New York City nonprofits, School for Success is often admired and envied for its financial strength. Almost from the start, the organization attracted corporate dollars, rapidly earning a reputation as the nonprofit “darling of Wall Street.” Much of the organization’s fundraising momentum was, and is, due to its success in placing students at prestigious schools. School for Success alumni have graduated from Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Brown, Dartmouth, Columbia, Cornell, U Penn, Stanford, and Duke. School for Success employs a relatively simple formula. Bright, academically-motivated minority students are recruited to apply to the program in sixth grade. Applicants are tested and admissions decisions are then made primarily based on the students’ performance on the (highly rigorous, standardized) tests. Those accepted receive approximately a year of academic and “leadership” preparation in Saturday classes. School for Success “scholars,” as they are called, are then placed at
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independent schools from which they receive full financial aid. Admission of School for Success students allows its private school partners to meet the demand for diversity without lowering academic standards. In fact, School for Success students routinely outperform their white peers. The program has been criticized on several grounds. First, some question its “added-value,” contending that any student admitted to the program would likely succeed on his or her own, as indicated by the exceptionally high test scores and academic performance of all School for Success admits. Others complain that the program robs the public school system of its best pupils. Still others note that some of the program’s minority students come from families earning more than $200,000 a year, calling into question the validity of the program’s claim to redress social inequity. These matters aside, it is internal conflict which has haunted the organization from the start and which most interests us. Without a doubt, the Founding Executive Director served as a lightning rod for much of the controversy. Staff members complained loudly to one another about his “difficult” personality, i.e. his temper, but they also frequently mocked his tendency to look down at the ground when talking to someone, his general avoidance of contact with the staff, and his refusal to learn to use new technologies (e.g. email, the internet) which might facilitate communication and enhance productivity. Moreover, staff members objected to his capricious nature. He often hired new individuals and then fired them within the course of a year. There was much grumbling about the fact that he promoted “personal favorites,” whom few in the organization thought were qualified for advancement. One senior manager and “personal favorite” who, not incidentally, was an alumnus of the program, was routinely ridiculed behind his back for his lack of leadership skills. The mere mention of his name (“Louie”) readily provoked eye rolling among junior staff. But humor was not the only response. One of the manager’s direct reports, an African-American woman, kept binders above her desk containing copies of every single document, email, and memo she had produced or received during
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her tenure with the organization. “If they ever try to fire me,” she said, “they better be ready for a fight.” Another senior administrator heard so many complaints from staffers about the Executive Director and other managers, that he privately anointed himself the organization’s “internal counselor.” Policies were routinely denounced as elitist. One such policy involved the invitation of students to the annual graduation ceremony. Students who were admitted to Ivy League schools but chose not to attend were excluded from the event. In other words, a student admitted to Dartmouth who chose instead to go to Georgetown would not be invited to graduation. The policy was reflective of a more general attitude. One senior administrator recalls being in a meeting during which colleagues publicly disparaged Wesleyan University (one of the top ranked liberal arts colleges in the nation) as a secondrate institution. “Everyone in that room knew my son was at Wesleyan,” he recalls. “But they didn’t care.” Meanwhile, staff members were expected to reflect the organization’s “collegiate” culture in their dress and demeanor. When female staff members violated the organization’s unwritten rules by wearing bright colors or tight outfits, it caused significant consternation among senior staff. Grumblings about “limousine liberalism” and “liberal racism” floated freely amongst the AfricanAmerican members of the staff. In other words, staff members believed donors and trustees held condescending attitudes toward minorities. Staff members felt beholden to the donors for dollars but also resented their power and patronage. Differences of opinion over pedagogy produced conflict as well. One staff member was so frustrated with the program’s curriculum, which he considered outdated and counter-productive, he attempted to organize a petition by faculty members for change. But the faculty members he approached declined to sign his petition on the grounds that, as he describes their response, “the organization was indifferent to calls for improvement.”
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School for Success faced a moment of crisis when the Founding Executive Director was accused of sexual misconduct with a minor. An executive session of the board was called into session, the ED was relieved of his responsibilities, and a new leader was appointed. Shortly thereafter the former ED suffered from a nervous breakdown. Analysis. The issues at School for Success closely mirrored the mission-based concerns of the organization, which was founded to both help elite schools achieve greater diversity and provide access for minority students to those same schools. Internal disputes consistently focused on the same types of issues that are involved in desegregating academic institutions. These issues include questions of measuring merit (e.g. the merit of the employees in the organization), balancing (and preserving and critiquing) cultural norms (e.g. the dress and behavior of employees), defining success (eg. of both students and employees), and determining the proper role of authority (e.g. the role of the ED). Just as the program’s students often felt obligated to “shed their blackness” to survive in majority-white private schools, the organization’s staff members felt pressure to conform to the uppermiddle-class norms of the senior staff, trustees and donors. Furthermore, staff members routinely questioned the legitimacy of the organization’s alleged meritocracy – especially in terms of promotion policies – seeing gross instances of favoritism and bias. And the CEO himself regularly expressed disappointment with the underperformance of his staff. It would be easy to blame the internal problems of School for Success on the quixotic personality of its Founding Executive Director. In fact, many of the organization’s problems were eliminated when a new Executive Director was hired and new policies and procedures implemented. But School for Success belongs to an umbrella group of similar organizations throughout the country and interviews with staff members at some of those organizations reveal common conflicts over perceived racism, elitism, and classism, as well as concerns about executive directors “playing favorites.” The very issues that troubled School for Success for so long have proved to be equally bothersome for many of the other
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organizations with similar missions throughout the country. Personality alone cannot account for organizational divisiveness. To properly understand the troubled (internal) history of School for Success, one must look at the organization from the context of mirroring. Most staff members were drawn to the organization because of their interest in personal achievement (the organization’s job advertisements, in fact, typically specified Ivy League degrees as an advantage in applying). It is reasonable to assume that highachievers will tend to be critical of any signs of mismanagement, favoritism, backwardness, etc.xii As for those staff members who weren’t attracted to the organization because of its focus on academic achievement, they were likely attracted because of its stated commitment to social equity. Those with a concern for social equity are inevitably going to be suspicious of any signs of elitism. This isn’t to say that School for Success didn’t suffer from Founder’s Syndrome, inefficiency or snobbery. But such problems might very well have gone unnoticed by those with less of an interest in such issues. Another, less idealistic and committed Executive Director might have been consistently impressed by the efforts of the staff. The Founder himself might have been well-liked in a different professional arena. The failings of his favorites would likely have gone overlooked in a less competitive, Ivy League environment. The rigors of the graduation ceremony policy might have seemed merely pragmatic, or even wise, in a free-market (vs. a nonprofit, social justice) setting. xiii What made School for Success great – namely its staff of highly educated, deeply committed and idealistic individuals (from the CEO on down) – also made it a vortex of frustration and disappointment. All in all, what hobbled School for Success was not a crisis of personality, but the natural dynamic of mission attraction and self-selection, which predictably resulted in the internal mirroring of the organization’s external concerns. What is impressive is that School for Success managed to maintain leadership in the competitive arena of New York nonprofits despite its often convulsive internal tensions.
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Case Study Three – Image is Everything The Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD) is a national organization “dedicated to promoting and ensuring fair, accurate and inclusive representation of people and events in the media as a means of eliminating homophobia and discrimination based on gender identity and sexual orientation.”xiv The organization was founded in 1985 in response to sensationalistic coverage of the AIDS epidemic in the New York Post. GLAAD now has offices in New York City, Los Angeles and San Francisco.xv Image and representation have long been crucial issues for gay men and women. In the 1940’s and 50’s, the absence of gay characters and storylines in popular culture signified the modern world’s attempt to deny and repudiate homosexuality. Homosexuality was so fraught it could not even be portrayed. In the 1960’s and 70’s, as gay characters started making it into books and onto the screen, they almost always appeared as criminals or as tragic figures whose lives ended in early death. In the 1980’s, gays (and straights who failed to conform to appropriate gender roles) increasingly became the “butt” of jokes in television and film. Greater visibility in the years after Stonewall did not necessarily mean a warm welcome for gays and lesbians in American popular culture. (Allyn, 2001) GLAAD emerged in response to this representational hostility. According to the organization’s own publications, one of GLAAD's principal accomplishments was convincing the editorial board of The New York Times to accept use of the word "gay" in its pages. The organization also claims to have helped encourage more than 1,000 newspapers across the country -- including The New York Times -- to include gay and lesbian announcements alongside other wedding listings. The organization claims to have brought attention to the anti-gay advocacy of "Dr. Laura" Schlessinger, to anti-gay content in Eminem's lyrics, and to the homophobic nature of various films and television shows. According to the organization’s website, “Because of GLAAD's work, gay and lesbian stories and issues are covered in
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national and local news publications, in film and on television. Negative and imbalanced portrayals of the community have decreased while lesbians and gay men have been increasingly incorporated in nearly every type of media platform - from soap operas to cartoon strips” (GLAAD). Despite GLAAD’s impressive record of accomplishments, the organization has repeatedly been the object of criticism both by staff members and by others in the gay community. Mostly, this criticism has focused on matters related to the organization’s (and by extension, the gay community’s) “public image.” In particular, GLAAD has been criticized for promoting an insularist, elitist image of the gay community. It has also dealt with high staff turn-over. By now, it should be clear that such conflict among stakeholders over a matter directly related to the organization’s aims is a case of mission mirroring.xvi In other words, it is no coincidence that GLAAD, an organization founded to improve the public image of gays and lesbians, has come under attack for its own PR strategies. Internal tension at GLAAD dates to the formative days of the organization. As Edward Alwood writes in his history of the media:
Festering personality conflicts on GLAAD’s Board of Directors were beginning to paralyze the organization. In-fighting had broken out among members, who were accusing one another of being unfit to serve on the board. Tempers reached a new height in late 1986 when several cofounders began a race to see who could resign first. Survival of the fledgling organization looked bleak until the spring of 1987, when Craig Davidson agreed to become its first Executive Director. (Alwood, 1998)
Internal tensions continued to plague GLAAD. In 1995 several minority staff members were terminated. Their termination led to a public battle and the creation of a web page titled “Reign of Terror at GLAAD: “As many of you may be aware, the Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD) has changed 18
leadership. Under the "new" GLAAD, former Associate Director Donald Suggs and former Membership Director Cathay Che have been fired. We have written this open letter to alert the community to what is happening inside the organization and to respond to the personal attacks that GLAAD has launched against us as a result of our decision to speak out.” GLAAD’s Lesbian and Gay People of Color Steering Committee [LGPCSC] sent a letter to the board, which was also website.xvii The letter read, in part, “As lesbian and gay people of color, bisexual, and transgender leaders and organizations, we are deeply concerned about the Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation's commitment to representing the interests and concerns of our communities. These concerns stem from the fact that there is currently only one person of color who is active on the board and that five people of color have been fired or have left the organization under the current administration, three of them senior staffers who left under less than amicable circumstances. Frankly, we are also shocked that GLAAD has developed a long term strategic plan, which was devised without adequate input from our communities' activists and leaders.” (LGPOC, Letter to GLAAD from the LGPOC Steering Committee, 1995) What is most pertinent to our discussion is the fact that a group of employees would use such a dramatic public relations strategy to air their grievances. GLAAD attempted some PR maneuvers of its own, hiring Eddie Borges, a Latino, as News Director. But this did little to mollify critics. “Given his attitude and lack of experience, we feel that he was not brought in to address people of color concerns, but to address GLAAD's concern that the organization would be perceived as racist if [it] fired all [of] it[s] senior staffers of color and did not hire at least one person of color to replace us” (LGPOC, b). GLAAD enjoyed further controversy when one of its staffers, Chastity Bono, called The Ellen Show “too gay.” Bono was let go, but not after critics blasted GLAAD for promoting the very sort of homophobia it was founded to fight.
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Much of the criticism of GLAAD by stakeholders who do not work for the organization has focused on its annual media awards. These awards are high ticket-price, star-studded events, featuring prominent, usually straight, celebrities. Gay and lesbian commentators have expressed concern that the events solidify an image of gay men (and, to a lesser degree gay women) as white, privileged, and attractive. The organization’s annual media awards came under specific fire within the gay community when it was revealed that GLAAD had a standing ban on giving awards to gay media outlets. The issue had been raised at board meetings in the 1990’s, but it now became a public controversy. Faced with sharp criticism, the organization defended its policy on several grounds (e.g. that its mission was to promote positive representations of gays in traditional media, that traditional media outlets could never compete in positive portrayals with specifically gay outlets) but these arguments were quickly dismissed by many. In the words of one critic, “For a gay media group to reinforce outdated divisions, and shove into the shadows those who do the most to advance visibility, is archaic, absurd and insulting to its own community” (Rotello, 2007). Because GLAAD typically takes a behind-the-scenes approach to dealing with homophobia in the media (preferring, for instance, to hold meetings with Hollywood power-brokers rather than sponsor grass-roots boycotts), the organization has been repeatedly criticized for projecting an image of the gay community as elitist and secretive (Graham, 2005). GLAAD’s image problems seem to follow it wherever it goes. In 2008, the organization angered many in the gay community when it botched the absorption of a smaller nonprofit, called Commercial Closet, dedicated to improving the portrayal of gays in advertising. GLAAD issued a press release announcing the merger and the firing of Commercial Closet’s founding executive director, but he responded with a press release of his own in which he said he had not been informed of his firing until he read about it on the website of Advertising Age (Metzke, 2008). In 2009, GLAAD then entered into a public brawl with celebrity blogger Perez Hilton, a former GLAAD employee, when it issued a statement
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critical of Hilton for using a gay slur during a confrontation with another celebrity. Incensed, Hilton used his own platform to denounce GLAAD, leading to a back-and-forth of blame on the web (LA, 2009; MTV.com, 2009). Analysis. GLAAD has faced criticism both inside and out. Both forms of criticism conform to the mission mirroring dynamic. It should now come as no surprise that GLAAD’s major problem over the years has been its public image (and the image it is alleged to portray of the gay community writ large). As a general rule, GLAAD’s stakeholders – whether they be employees, donors or potential donors – care greatly about image. For gay men and women, a negative public image has long been a source of discrimination, prejudice, and persecution. Slurs, slang words, mean-spirited portrayals, cruel jokes, stereotypes (the effeminate male and the butch female), rumors and narratives featuring tragic endings for gay characters have played a major role in sustaining homophobia and heterosexism over the years. It is only natural that gays would be especially sensitive to matters of image when it comes to their own organizations. GLAAD’s problems have been compounded by the fact that so many of its staffers and former staffers understand the power of PR. They have aired their grievances in public, waging their own wars against GLAAD. Senior managers at GLAAD too understand the damaging effects of negative publicity, and they have at times tried to silence terminated employees. But such efforts have only fueled further criticism. Outside the gay community, it should be noted, GLAAD enjoys one of the strongest reputations of any gay rights organization. Each year the GLAAD media awards receive positive coverage in mainstream media outlets. But within the community, that is to say, amongst stakeholders, GLAAD is entangled in a mission mirroring dynamic. Conflicts over the public image of the organization refuse to go away.
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Conclusion Reflecting on causal theories of infighting in social protest movements, sociologist Amin Ghaziani notes that explanations of such infighting have ranged from “*activists’+ racist, sexist, and classist attitudes and beliefs; coordination and reconciliation problems activists confront when they are situated at the intersection of multiple oppressions; the changing generational and cohort profile of activists; an inadequate economic aggregation of individual choices and interests; failure to mobilize consensus; disagreements over tactics and strategies; and challenges associated with participatory, democratic-decision making” (Ghaziani, 2008). Nonprofit organizations are distinct from social protest movements, but share with them a mission-driven orientation. The above list of explanations, therefore, could just as easily be applied to the nonprofit sector. My assertion, however, is that these standard explanations of conflict miss the mark because they fail to acknowledge the inherently conflictual nature of mission-driven cultures. To say that conflict is a result of “the failure to mobilize consensus,” for instance, is not only to make a tautological claim, it suggests that, were consensus adequately mobilized, conflict would somehow disappear. I am arguing, by contrast, that dissension in the form of mission mirroring is a normal and natural part of nonprofit life. Of course, sociologists studying protest movements are not the only ones who have provided theories to explain the emergence and persistence of conflict. Political scientists, social psychologists, IR theorists, and organizational behavior theorists have offered their own accounts of conflict, each account reflecting the particular interests and dispositions of the field in which it originated. (Scholars have rarely engaged in cross-disciplinary dialogue.) In nonprofit organizations, conflict is doubly troublesome because it is typically unexpected: idealistic stakeholders working together towards a common aim are not “supposed” to conflict. Rather, they are “supposed” to get along happily and harmoniously. It is this false ideology which needs to be deconstructed because it exacerbates the
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problem. When conflict in nonprofit organizations does arise, it is often taken as a sign that something is wrong with a particular organization. Such conflict can lead to increased turn-over, rather than understood as an inherent dynamic of the sector. The concept of mission mirroring does not absolve nonprofit leaders of the responsibility of acting in ways consistent with the core values of their organizations. Nor does it imply that individuals devoid of idealism would make better staff members than those who are passionate about social change. Nonprofit organizations need stakeholders who care about, are attuned to, and bring a heightened sensitivity to the issues at stake. (It would be very difficult for a group of environmentalists to run a homeless shelter just as it would be for those most concerned about ending homelessness to run an organization with an environmental focusxviii). Rather, the concept of mission mirroring simply offers a more sophisticated framework for understanding intra-organizational conflict, one which can help curtail accusations of ignorance and ill-will. If anything, the concept of mission mirroring suggests that nonprofit leaders must be especially vigilant with themselves when it comes to upholding the values of the organization. Inconsistencies are always likely to smell putrid to at least some stakeholders. The best answer to the problem of mirroring is increased attention to matters of integrity. When nonprofit leaders can operate with genuine confidence about the consistency of their own actions vis-avis the mission of their organization, mirrored conflicts are less likely to arise. My hope is that future researchers will deepen and explore the subject of mission mirroring. Several questions readily present themselves for further study. At what stage of an organization’s development does mission mirroring typically commence? Is mirroring more pronounced in some types of organizations than in others? Can senior executives educate their boards/staffs about the mission mirroring dynamic without seeming to discredit the opinions of trustees/staff members with whom they disagree?
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While the concept of mission mirroring applies most directly to nonprofit organizations, I believe it could have fruitful implications for those studying social protest movements, like Ghazani et, al., and perhaps even for those studying for-profit enterprises. It is not a stretch to ask whether those in sales often end up resenting management’s efforts to “sell” them new ideas, approaches, polices and procedures (or, vice-versa, whether management often ends up resenting sales teams for being unwilling to “buy” their new ideas, etc.) Mirroring can likely be found in almost any group that is defined by a common purpose. At one of the nation’s top university history departments, for instance, a long-standing conflict deeply divides the faculty. The conflict has to do with the history of the department itself: namely with the memories of the various faculty members and the conflicting narratives those faculty members tell regarding a particularly brutal tenure battle back in the early 90’s. Again we see (what should be) an unsurprising case of mirroring: after all, historians are professionally inclined to cling to, and parse the details of, the past. My suspicion is that similar conflicts over “who did what to whom and when” divide history departments nationwide. But for now this remains merely my suspicion. I leave it to other researchers to test my hypothesis. Before we look too far outside the nonprofit sector, however, it is worth acknowledging that mirroring is a common and predictable problem for nonprofit organizations. Organizations routinely become mired in internal conflicts that look eerily like the external problems they were founded to address. These conflicts can suck in everyone from senior leaders – the CEO, trustees and high-level donors – to part-time staff and volunteers. And they inevitably involve emotionally charged issues for all involved. But the commonplace quality of mirroring is good news. When organizational stakeholders recognize mirroring for what it is – a natural and almost inevitable dynamic in any mission-driven environment -- they will be less likely to plummet into name-calling and ideological conflict.
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My long-term hope is that all those with a stake in the success of the nonprofit sector – from donors to staff members to volunteers – will take a new view of nonprofit organizations in light of the mirroring framework, coming to appreciate a certain degree of stakeholder disagreement as a creative and vital force in the nonprofit world.
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Works Cited Allyn, D. (2001). Make Love, Not War: The Sexual Revolution, An Unfettered History. New York, NY: Routledge. Alwood, E. (1998). Straight News: Gays, Lesbians and the News Media. New York, NY: Columbia University Press. Balogun, J., & Johnson, G. (2004). Organizational Restructuring and Middle Manager Sensemaking. Academy of Management Journal , 47, pp. 523-549. Bell, J., Moyers, R., & Wolfred, T. (2006). Daring to Lead 2006: A National Study of Nonprofit Leadership. Compasspoint. Besharov, M. (2008). Mission Goes Corporate: Understanding Employee Behavior in a MissionDriven Business. Unpub. diss. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University. Bridgeland, J., & Reed, B. (2009). The Quiet Crisis: The Impact of the Economic Downturn on the Nonprofit Sector. W.K. Kellogg Foundation. Brown, A., & Humphreys, M. (2003). Epic and Tragic Tales: Making Sense of Change. Journal of Applied Behavioral Science , 39, pp. 121-144. Cornelius, M., Covington, P., & Ruesga, A. (2008). Ready to Lead?: Next Generation Leaders Speak Out. Meyer Foundation. Delfgaauw, J., & Dur, R. (2008). Managerial Talent, Motivation and Self-Selection into Public Management. Erasumus University. Amsterdam, The Netherlands: Tinbergen Institute. Dutton, J. a. (1991). Keeping an Eye on the Mirror: Image and Identity in Organizational Adaptation. Academy of Management Journal , 34, pp. 517-554. 26
Dutton, J. E., & Dukerich, J. M. (1994). Organizational Images and Member Identificaiton. 39, pp. 239-263. Gabriel, Y. (2000). Storytelling in Organizations: Facts, Fictions, and Fantasies. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. Gamson, W. A. (1992). The Social Psychology of Collective Action. In C. M. A.D. Morris (Ed.), Frontiers in Social Movement Theory (pp. 53-76). New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Gecas, V. (2000). Value Identities, Self-Motives and Social Movements. In S. Stryker (Ed.), Self, Identities and Social Movements (pp. 93-109). Minneapolis, MN: University of Minneapolis Press. Gergen, K. (2001). Self-Narration in Social Life. In S. T. M. Weherell (Ed.), Discourse Theory and Practice. London, UK: Sage. Ghaziani, A. (2008). The Dividends of Dissent: How Conflict and Culture Work in Lesbian and Gay Marches on Washington. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Ghoshal, S., & Bartlett, C. A. (1994). Linking Organizational Context and Managerial Action: The Dimensions of Quality Management. Strategic Management Journal , 15, pp. 91-112. GLAAD. (n.d.). www.glaad.org. Retrieved 10 2, 2009 Glynn, M. A. (2000, May). When Cymbals Become Symbols: Conflict Over Organizational Identity Within a Symphony Orchestra. Organization Science , 11 (3), pp. 285-298. Golden-Biddle, K., & Rao, H. (1997, November-December). Breaches in the Boardroom: Organizational Identity and Conflicts of Commitment in a Nonprofit Organization. Organization Science , 8 (6), pp. 593-611. Golensky, M. (1993). The board-executive relationship in nonprofit organizations: Partnership or power struggle? Nonprofit Management and Leadership , 4 (2), pp. 177-191. Graham, C. (2005, April). Growing Pains at GLAAD. The Advocate .
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Hall, P. D. (1990). Conflicting managerial cultures in nonprofit organizations. Nonprofit Management and Leadership , 1 (2), pp. 153-165. Independent, S. (2006). Facts and Figures about Charitable Oragnizations. Washington, DC: Independent Sector. Isabella, L. (1990). Evolving Interpretations as a Change Unfolds: How Managers Construe Key Organizational Events. Academy of Management Journal , 33, pp. 7-41. Kocher, M. e. (2006). Individual or Team Decision-Making: Causes and Consquences of SelfSelection. Games and Economic Behavior , 56 (2), pp. 259-270. LA, T. (2009, JUne 22). GLAAD asks Perez Hilton to Apologize for Anti-Gay Slurs Against Will.i.am. Los Angeles Times . LGPOC. (1995, December 7). Letter to GLAAD from the LGPOC Steering Committee. Retrieved November 17, 2009, from http://www.qrd.org/qrd/www/culture/black/discussion/lgpoc.html LGPOC. (n.d.). Q & A about Donald & Cathay's Firings at GLAAD. Retrieved November 17, 2009, from http://www.qrd.org/qrd/www/culture/black/discussion/question.html Light, P. C. (2008a). How Americans View Charities: A Report on Charitable Confidence. Washington, DC: Brookings Institution. Light, P. C. (2005a). The Continuing Crisis in Charitable Confidence. New York: Robert F. Wagner School, New York University. Light, P. C. (2006). The Four Pillars of High Performance. New York, NY: McGraw-Hill. Light, P. C. (2008b). The Search for Social Entrepreneurship. Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press. Light, P. C. (2005b). What It Takes to Make Charities Effective. The Chronicle of Philanthropy . McKeith, J. (1994). Interdepartmental relations and voluntary organizations: An exploration of tensions and why they arise. Nonprofit Management and Leadership , 4 (4), pp. 431-446.
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Metzke, R. v. (2008, November 12). Terminated: Commercial Closet’s Executive Director. Retrieved October 2, 2009, from Advocate.com. MTV.com. (2009, June 23). Perez Hilton Says GLAAD Owes Him an Apology. Retrieved October 2, 2009, from MTV.com. Opportunity Knocks. (2008). Nonprofit Retention and Vacancy Report. Atlanta: Georgia Center for Nonprofits. Rotello, G. (2007, March 22). The GLAAD Media Awards: Gay Media Need Not Apply. Retrieved October 1, 2009, from The Huffington Post: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/gabriel-rotello/the-glaadmedia-awards-ga_b_44072.html Schneider, B. (2001, Dec). Fits about Fit. Applied Psychology , 50 (1), pp. 141-152. Stryker, S. (1982). Identity Competition: Key to Differential Social Movement Participation? In S. Styrker, T. J. Owens, & R. White (Eds.), Self, Identity and Social Movements (pp. 21-40). Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press. Tajfel, H., & Turner, J. (1979). An Integrative Theory of Intergroup Conflict. In W. Austin, & S. Worchel, The Social Psychology of Intergroup Relations (pp. 94-109). Monterey, CA: Brooks-Cole. Tsasis, P. (2009). The social processes of interorganizational collaboration and conflict in nonprofit organizations. Nonprofit Management and Leadership , 20 (1), pp. 5-21. Ward, A., & Ross, L. (1996). Naive Realism in Everyday Life: Implications for Social Conflict and Misunderstanding. In E. Reed, E. Turiel, & T. Brown, Values and Knowledge (pp. 103-136). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erbaum Associates. Weick, K. (1995). Sensemaking in Organizations. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Wrzesniewski, A., Dutton, J., & Debebe, G. (2003). Interpersonal sensemaking and the meaning of work. Research in Organizational Behavior , 25, pp. 93-135.
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Zilber, T. (2002). Institutionalization as an Interplay Between Actions, Meanings and Actors: The Case of a Rape Crisis Center in Israel. Academy of Management Journal , 45 (1), pp. 234-254.
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i
Alertness to what lies ahead, agility, adaptability, and alignment of the charity’s operations to its
mission. ii
I originally encountered the term ‘mirroring’ in the work of Ron Heifetz. See Leadership Without
Easy Answers (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1988). iii
Including Max Weber, Robert Park, Georg Simmel, Lewis Coser, Edward Alsworth Ross, Talcott
Parsons, John McCarthy, Mayer Zald, Sidney Tarrow, Frances Fox Piven, Richard Clowen, Lawrence Ephron, William Gamson and Amin Ghaziani. iv
By Kurt Lewin, Kenwyn Smith, Henri Tajfel, John Turner, Andrew Ward, and Lee Ross, among
others. v
Such as Joseph Bower, J.M. Dutton, H.G. Fitch, Louis Pondy, A.C. Amason, and Mary Ann Glynn.
vi
E.g. Tanya Glaser, Ronald Fisher, Roger Fisher, William Ury, and Herbert Kelman.
vii
The name of the organization has been changed for the purposes of this article.
viii
The program became co-ed in its second summer.
ix
That first summer, the term “deeper” was left largely undefined, a fact that would lead to much of
the conflict among the co-existence facilitators discussed below. x
Other issues tore at the board as well. The Founder first invited and then uninvited his stepson to
serve on the board; the board took issue with aspects of the founder’s leadership style; and the issues of trustee obligations caused tension. The board would become even more divided after the death of the founder, particularly over the pension of the founder’s widow. xi
Again, the name of the organization and those of individuals mentioned have been changed.
xii
On high achievers, see Abraham Maslow, Motivation and Personality, Harper Collins, 1987 (orig.
pub. 1970). 31
xiii
Even the downfall of the Founding ED was somewhat predictable. Educational organizations are
more likely to attract individuals with a strong emotional “interest” (good or bad) in adolescents than they are to attract those who are indifferent to young people; such organizations are also more likely to attract individuals with a significant concern for, and a high level of anxiety regarding, the protection of adolescents’ welfare. And, of course, educational organizations provide opportunities for abuse that non-educational organizations don’t provide. Thus, in an educational organization you are far more likely to find both actual cases of abuse as well as false accusations of abuse than you are in noneducational organizations. xiv
Because much of the criticism of GLAAD is a matter of public record, I saw no reason to hide the
organization’s identity. xv
The GLAAD Records, 1985-2001 are available for public examination at Cornell University Library’s
Division of Rare and Manuscript Collections. xvi
In this final case study, I have chosen to examine conflict that has spilled beyond the confines of its
originating organization and out into the larger community. Nonetheless, the community in question (out gay men and women) is united by a commitment to the general mission of increasing equality for, and acceptance of, gay people. One could say that all gays and lesbians are potential supporters of GLAAD and thus can be considered organizational stakeholders. xvii
The LGPOC Steering Committee claimed to represent numerous organizations: African Ancestral
Lesbians United for Societal Change, American Indian Community House HIV/AIDS Project, Asian Lesbians of the East Coast, Asian and Pacific Islander Coalition on HIV/AIDS, Bisexual, Lesbian and Gay Haitians, Bisexual Womyn of Colour, Black Leather In Color Magazine, Bronx Lesbians United In Sisterhood, Brothers In Leather, Carribean-Identified Lesbian and Gay Alliance, COLORLife! Lesbian, Gay, Two Spirit and Bisexual People of Color Magazine, Equal Access Council, Inc., The Gay African Americans of Westchester, Gay Asian and Pacific Islander Men of New York, Gay Men of African Descent, Gay Men 32
of the Bronx, Homovisiones/Producciones Homovision, Immigrants Fighting AIDS/Immigrants with HIV Project of GMHC, International Lesbian and Gay People of Color Human Rights Task Force, Kambal Sa Lusog: Filipinas Lesbians, Gays and Bisexuals for Progress, Kilawin Kolektibo, Las Buenas Amigas: Lesbianas Latinas En Nueva York, Latino Gay Men of New York, Latinos and Latinas De Ambiente/NY, Lavender Light: The Black And People of All Colors Lesbian and Gay Gospel Choir, Lavender Soul Productions, Producers of The Pulse, Men of All Colors Together/NY, MOCA: Men of Color AIDS Prevention Unit of the NYC Dept. of Health, The Minority Task Force on AIDS, Other Countries: Black Gay Expressions, People of Color In Crisis, Inc., South Asian Lesbian & Gay Association (SALGA-NYC), Unity Fellowship Church of Christ, We Wah and Bar Chee Ampe -- Native Two Spirits in New York City, and Women of Color Group of Brooklyn Martial Arts. xviii
Why some individuals are attracted to certain causes while others are attracted to very different
ones is a fascinating psychological question that deserves research but is outside the scope of this paper.
33