dangerouslyawesome

For the last few months, I’ve been quietly been working on a new project. Actually, I’ve been working on the contents of the project for over 3 years now, but recently, I’ve been plugging it into a new framework.

Back in the fall, I was approached by David Hauser from Grasshopper with interest in helping him set up a new coworking space in Boston. David’s whole “empowering entrepreneurs to change the world” value statement for Grasshopper is clear alignment with coworking, far beyond the business proposition. Furthermore, on a very personal note, he might be the only person I’ve met in business who harps on core values as an operating model more than me.

I dig that.

David and I quickly made it past the superficial conversations about coworking spaces and got to talking about community, people, empowerment, higher purpose, and the big questions like “why” we do things the way we do them at IndyHall. David’s eyes went wide and I watched him “get it”. He said, “more people need to hear this, why haven’t you written it down?”

Fact is, I have written it down. Most of it, in fact. The problem was that it was all over the place. Blog posts on this site as well as IndyHall.org. Literally hundreds of posts to the Coworking Google Group. But no cohesive story arc unless you got me in a room and put a beer in my hand.

So we decided that it was valuable enough for David to get behind the project, not just for himself, but with the goal to create something that would help many others kick ass. The end result of the project be something with larger value.

And so, I began writing The Coworking Book.

Now before I go on to post the excerpt, I’m sure you’re asking,

“But what about everybody else that’s written about their experiences? Who the hell are you, one guy, to tell this story by yourself?”

If you’re not asking that question, you should be, because I asked myself the question long and hard before deciding how this project would take form.

Instead of thinking I could take on that task, I instead set out to write the framework. That’s it. I’m building a framework that we can hang ideas from, and to guide people in to coworking from whatever vantage point they are coming from.

I’m writing what I hope is a cohesive story arc that makes the content interesting, valuable, and somewhat linear. And I’m telling it from a single lens: my own.

That’s version 0.1. The alpha. My version. That’s what I’m releasing this week at SXSWi. I’m going to be taking time out of my schedule while in Austin to put the finishing touches on the work I’ve done so far, and to follow my own advice - just effing ship.

Beyond alpha

My plans for next steps are to begin something that begins to look like the communal composition of some of the oldest texts in history. I’ve decided that within the margins of each paragraph of each chapter of version 0.1, I’m inviting people to tell their stories.

Through their own lense.

There are going to be holes that need filling in. I need you to patch them. There are going to be disagreements on points of execution. We need to discuss them.

But in the framework I’ve constructed, there are always decision-guiding tools to make resolving disagreements simpler and to remove ego, including mine, from the end product.

All of the discussion that goes on in the margins will then be folded in to the primary text with some guidance and support of others. What others? My hope is that some people step up from the margins and want to become co-curators.

Addendum: For the coders in the room, think of the main text as the trunk, the commentary as patch submissions/pull requests, and the curators as “core team”. And lets not forget the ever growing user base that ultimately will want to use this tool because it helps them kick ass.

The tool we’ll be using to collaborate is actually built on top of Wordpress, it’s called Digress.it. It’s a plugin + a theme, and while it’s not perfect, it’s pretty badass. This sort of interface was largely inspired by the DjangoBook, the official book for the Django Project, a framework for the programming language Python. What’s important to me is that people can comment with accountability and attribution on every post AND every paragraph individually, and this tool gives exactly that.

On Curation

Dave Troy has been talking about a “curatorial economy” on his blog, and its an idea that I like. Curatorial is not inherently exclusionary. It does, however, push for people to step up to plate and act. The ones who are considered are the ones who act. It’s not the same as a “do-ocracy”, where those who do get to make the decisions. This is about guiding but not imposing.

Curation is about making a choice, but with shared and articulated vision.

And that is my hope for the final product of The Coworking Book. That through a number of iterations, and communal curation, the work product that emerges is a clear, high value, extremely accessible utility for people interested in the past, present, and future of work.

Lots of commas in that last sentence. Sorry about that.

About the content

This part is important: forever, each version of the text, and the related comments and discussions in the margin, will remain online for free. Searchable. With 100% attribution.

At some point, we’ll need to “release”. Versions will each have a roadmap, with a set of goals that it needs to accomplish. When we achieve those goals, the book will be released.

When we reach a 1.0 version, we’ll only have a snapshot. It won’t be the bible, because it will continue to evolve. But we’ll have a snapshot, something that’s missing from the history books for our movement and our community.

The important part is this: we don’t stop at version 1.0. We don’t ever stop. We keep telling this story, and evolving the text. The growth and change in the sphere of coworking has changed immensely in only 3 years, and the change is accelerating. Lets snapshot things now so we can continue to measure that growth moving forward.

And without further adieu, I present you with an excerpt from the chapter “Finding your Coworkers”.

FIGHT CLUB

If you’ve seen the movie “Fight Club”, the main character who’s known as “Jack” is a hypochondriac who attends self help groups to feel better about himself. Demented and selfish intentions aside, something interesting happens to Jack: he meets Marla Singer, another self-help group junkie. In order to not appear awkward in front of their group members, they decide to split up the nights.

There’s a good chance you’re going to find a similar situation along your journey of community exploration. Except this time, this works to your advantage instead of being a detractor like in Jack and Marla’s relationship.

When you start recognizing people at multiple events, or on multiple lists…you’ve found another connector.

Connectors are the most important people in any community building effort because they are catalysts for speeding up your process. If a person is already dedicated enough to be participating in multiple events and groups, it’s not a reach to think they might want to team up with you to more efficiently map the topography of events and activities going on. They might even be able to help find more connectors.

These connectors tend to also make great leaders, and are critical to the mobilization efforts you’ll be embarking on very soon.

Over time, you will find yourself building a map of the existing communities and the active pieces of your region. Coworking can augment many of them, and they can all provide channels for potential members for your space.

More mature communities may already have these maps established, but that doesn’t mean you can’t go through this process on your own. You may uncover something that hasn’t received as much exposure as it deserves and it will go on to be one of your greatest assets once you open a space.

Some really good thoughts on Social Capital(ism) and related investment by Roger Ehrenberg came from a panel in NYC sponsored by Philly’s Goodcompany Ventures. Goodcompany CEO Garret Melby, who I enjoyed meeting after my presentation about organic team building at Entrepreneurs Unplugged back in December and spoke at Ignite earlier this week, also commented.

The full post is worth reading, but two quotes stood out to me:

…It’s an issue of how you define capital and return.

My hypothesis is that we need a whole new regime for quantifying the value of businesses that have goals other than strictly financial profit. We need hard numbers – real metrics – to demonstrate the value of initiatives that create value for society beyond the payment of staff and the generation of profits for shareholders.

But the “R” [in ROI] – the return – isn’t simply financial profit: it’s economic utility, real benefits being enjoyed by society.

This leads me to something else that I always find hard to articulate: the ROI of IndyHall, or even coworking in general.

We’ve been running IndyHall for nearly 3 years as a business for a reason, and a profitable one at that. But the metrics for ROI aren’t salient, since most of the investment has been in human, knowledge, and time capital, and the return doesn’t show up on our balance sheet. As such, Geoff and I don’t take a draw, at least not in terms of cash…because that’s not what’s we’ve invested. If there was a balance sheet for the social capital we’ve invested and seen in return, though, and we had metrics for it, we’d be able to far better express and share what we’ve accomplished.

Gatekeepers are the leading cause of confusion, dissent, and ultimately their own demise.

Don’t be a gatekeeper.

Instead, find every way possible to help people say “yes” and allow them to execute.

The outcome is world changing.

Permission is a highly underutilized leadership skill. Let’s see if we can’t change that.

Mission #1: Try saying “yes” to something trivial that you would normally say no to, and watch what happens.

I’m always “preaching” about finding and having higher purpose in everything you do, especially work. It’s something I learned back in 2006 from Chris Messina and Tara Hunt when they started Citizen Agency…it was a core tenant of what they helped their clients do.

One of my side ventures is as the business manager for Two Guys on Beer. Johnny, Dave, Joe, and I have been producing this show together for almost 2 years now…Joe and I officially on the team for a bit over a year now. We’ve had some really incredible successes under our belt, not the least of which is a syndication on Philly.com’s beer page, participating in Philly Beer Week last year that resulted in interviews with beer legends Sam Calagione and Jim Koch, BeerCamp – a homebrewers summit attended by 200+ homebrew fans, fantastic relationships with a number of breweries & restaurants, and of course over 130 episodes in the bag.

The team works hard for a project that we’ve been slowly…slowly….turning into what we believe can be a profitable venture. We joke that we’re at the point where people send us beer, and that’s awesome…but the real goal is to make money drinking beer. The truth is, we have a higher purpose based on 4 core values that we think will help us make that a reality:

• Advocate Beer
• Grow the Craft Beer Community
• Make Knowledge Available
• Build Beer Relationships

Even with these core values, things get tough…especially with a project that is a passion project for the whole team right now. It’s hard to remember, sometimes, “why are we doing this again!?!”.

Then, you get e-mails like this:

TGOB:

You guys are AWESOME! I love experimenting with different beers, but I can’t find good beer while the US Army has me stationed here in Korea. I download your podcasts onto my Zune and watch them as I drink some malty Philipino beers (the only thing decent you can find here), and your show makes me feel like I’m home. Keep the shows coming; you keep me from feeling homesick. You guys rock.

2LT Vandergraff

6-52 AMD, 35th ADA BDE, South Korea

Wow. That’s the kind of thing that really puts things into perspective, and how important having core values can be.

Without our core values, the product that Two Guys on Beer produces wouldn’t be what it is today, and the team probably wouldn’t keep pouring our time and hearts into the show. But most importantly, 2Lt Todd Vandergraff wouldn’t be able to enjoy beer as a way to stay connected to home.

This week I’m included in Technically Philly’s sponsorship thank yous as their first “philanthropist level” sponsorship. It’s no secret that I’ve been a long time supporter of what Brian, Chris, and Sean do, and that’s not because they’ve written about me and IndyHall a bunch of times. I think they’ve identified a real need for covering the emerging technology community in Philadelphia with an honest, authentic, and approachable candor that is still backed by true journalistic ethics and execution.

I’ve got a lot of thoughts about their announcement of NewsInkubator, their Knight News Foundation grant application, that I’m still tuning and molding, but I think that it’s important that Technically Philly is able to sustain itself without the NEED for those grant resources.

They have a phenomenal community of readers, and an increasing number of those readers fall into the category of “we like what you do and want to do something about it”. My decision to sponsor is not to get a link or attribution every week…quite frankly I’d be just as happy without it. The reason I decided to sponsor TechnicallyPhilly was to lead with my actions rather than just my words.

I attended their first Technically Philly Happy Hour earlier this week and the ~30 people who also attended came from all corners of the technology scene in Philadelphia. My favorite part about the people who I met was that it was my first time seeing many of them. The fact that Technically Philly is able to act as a hub, as a connector, between disparate but related industries in Philadelphia is something that they recognize as valuable, and I’m thrilled that they’re able to find ways to execute with that connectedness.

Things like this, among many others, inspired me to put my money where my mouth is. $50/month isn’t nominal, and there’s of course a tradeoff. Think about $50:

It’s 3 dinners cooked at home instead of out at a restaurant (average $20). Homecooked food is better for you anyway.

It’s 5 walks (or even buses) across town instead of jumping in a taxi (average $10 from old city to 30th st). That walk will not only make you feel better, but you’ll see the city from the sidewalk instead of the street.

It’s 3 CDs or DVDs you wait to add to your collection (average $20). What’s the last good thing Hollywood put out anyway? Except IronMan and its impending sequel. I want to be Tony Stark when I grow up.

It’s 13 coffees brewed yourself instead of going to Starbucks and getting a $4 latte.

It’s 8 cheesesteaks (average $7). Ok, I hope you’re not eating 8 cheesesteaks a month. That’d be absurd.  http://thisiswhyyourefat.com/. ‘Nuff said.

And speaking of fat…you’re not even using that gym membership but you pay $40+/month for it. If you’re gonna toss that money at something, why not something that actually has value?

You get my point.

$50/month isn’t a subscription to Technically Philly, and I don’t think it should be thought of that way. It’s a way of supporting something that I hope becomes an institution in Philadelphia, and continues to grow with this community.

“We’d love to wait for you to come on board and help us, but fuck it, we’re gonna do it anyway.” – From Scene but not Nerd, January 2007.

The sentiment hasn’t changed for me, it won’t change anytime soon, and this past weekend’s events illustrate a very important part: the sentiment is shared by more than just this angsty technologist.

DIY, or “Do It Yourself” for the uninitiated, means more than just “bottom up” for this town.

It means that people have a true sense of ownership, and a true sense of pride, in what they make, and why shouldn’t the city that they live and work in be a part of their portfolio?

BeerCamp Philly was more than a party (and believe me, there ain’t no party like an IndyHall Party, cuz an IndyHall party don’t stop), but a framework for achieving many of the important aspects normally not achieved by DIY.

First, the notion of doing it yourself seems to imply two things:

• Do it BY yourself
• Do it FOR yourself

BeerCamp debunked that in a big way, and put a stake in the ground for an fast growing, almost entirely underground community of homebrewers.

Among the takeaways I heard as the night played out, two important ones were recurring, and I believe the most important.

• Many of our participating homebrewers don’t get to taste their beer with anyone outside of the group of friends with whom that they brew. That’s a lost opportunity for creating a feedback loop to learn from.
• Many of our homebrewers don’t get to taste other homebrewer’s beer, and compare notes. Yet another lost opportunity to accelerate their learning process, and continue to experiment.

I should point out that it is my intuition that homebrewing is a social activity, and very few people do it 100% solo, but I’m not sure about that.

In one night, we connected 11 brewers to each other, and simultaneously introduced them to our sold-out attendance of well over 200 beer-lovers.

Brewers shared notes about process, junior brewers learning technique from a senior generation (and not surprisingly, some of those newer brewers had some things of their own to teach).

The act of “doing it yourself” for these brewers took something they did for craft, became a shared experience with a much larger audience, many of whom were new faces to our community.

In those series of moments, everything accelerated. Not just during the event itself, but with lasting effects that have yet to be seen unfold.

That’s the difference. Lasting effects because they have skin in the game from here on out.

During BarCamp Philly II, which was probably the dozenth’ or so “unconference” event I’ve attended in the last couple of years, something similar occured.

These people, and the dozens more that are out of frame and that came throughout the day, seized an opportunity to take 7 hour schedule and make it their own.

At 8am, there was no conference schedule. At 10am, 12 rooms had organized into over 50 sessions. The schedule board was full, and the organizers reacted by adding a 13th track, making room for up to 6 more presenters.

For all of the energy put into carefully crafting a conference schedule that’s ideal for an event’s agenda, I think this one came out pretty well.

Note the diversity, by the way. BarCamp Philly has begun to leave the realm of “geeks only” (only a couple of Twitter/social media sessions, and a healthy smattering of tech-oriented sessions), and is now also strongly trending into business, communication, education, law, art, music, and culture.

Back to Doing It Yourself.

For many attendees (I’d estimate well over half based on a show of hands at the beginning of the day), BarCamp Philly II was not only their first BarCamp, but their first exposure to the broader community of people moving and shaking in Philadelphia. At every event since the 2007 BlogPhiladelphia I co-organized with Annie Heckenberger, I’ve heard the same phrase over and over:

“I had no idea so much was happening in my own back yard”

And that’s just it. There is already so much going on in our own back yard.

Much of it, without the traditional focus on “What resources don’t we have and how do we get them?”, and with more of a focus on, “What can we accomplish with what we’ve already got?”.

Also, while it’s a little bit hard to be sure from session titles alone, I think you can deduce (and others can confirm) that BarCamp Philly was much less instructive, and far more interactive and conversational.

It wasn’t just about getting people to share ideas (which is fine, but not intrinsically productive), but about finding ways to help ideas connect.

That’s the difference between being told it’s a good idea to share your ideas, or having ideas shared with you, and having some skin in the game yourself.

Receiving pre-synthesized information leaves out all of the opportunity for self-discovery, idea branching and merging, and ultimately, innovative thinking becomes unidirectional.

Presenter->Audience.

Kung Fu Master->Grasshopper.

Yoda->Luke.

Mentor->Mentee.

Those relationships are valuable and important, but it’s not the only way to do things.

We’re doing this a little bit differently, we’re doing it ourselves.

When the participants of BarCamp Philly come together to decide what’s important enough to talk about, and dialogue about it, serendipity accelerates in a big way.

And because they have skin in the game, the lasting effects are strong, and most exciting for me, yet to be seen.

So these events were a success, right?

Well, yes.

The organizers totally dominated in putting together an incredible event framework, and worked their asses off to make sure that participants of the events could be effective. Roz Duffy, JP Toto, and Kelani Edmondson are quickly becoming master event planners and organizers. Kara LaFleur joins them as an extraordinary volunteer who just gets things done, and even more, coordinates volunteer efforts in force, allowing big things to happen when all you’ve got is a bunch of willing hands.

That said, as I titled my unusually somber and introspective session with Geoff, “We’re not done yet”.

If my personal goal was to be able to travel the country sharing and learning along with other people working to improve their cities, I’d be happy saying I’ve achieved that goal.

If my personal goal was to generate press (for better or for worse) around our efforts, more than once gracing the front page of established print and digital publications around the world, I’d be happy saying I achieved that goal.

If my personal goal was to be surrounded by, and work with (but not for) some of the smartest, most driven, talented, and incredible people you can possibly imagine, I’d be happy saying I’d achieved that goal.

Luckily, those personal goals are all being achieved as the first chapter of a much longer story is being written. There are a lot of characters already (rivaling a Tolkein novel at this point), and the cast is only growing.

I’m not writing this book, we all are.

We haven’t even finished the first chapter, Philadelphia.

The fun is just getting started.

It almost feels like a dirty secret I’m confessing. I joked in an e-mail with a colleague tonight, who pointed out that he was impressed that I was watching a sporting event, not to tell anybody because it’d ruin my street cred.

Ask any of my friends, and they’ll tell you, I’m not a sports fan.

I’ve explained it all kinds of ways:

I don’t like sports.

I don’t like sports fans.

I don’t understand the rules.

Watching on TV is boring.

I’m allergic to sports.

At the end of the day, I’ve just never been into competitive sports, because I’m a different type of competitive. I’m much more into competing with myself, so I like solo sports like rock climbing and snow boarding.

Even when I’ve watched sports that I do like, I’ve never followed them. I never memorized player stats, or knew where a team stood in a given championship.

I had nothing to personally gain or lose from knowing, or not knowing any of those things.

So why, on earth, would I take the risk of blowing my “personal brand” as a sports luddite?

I love the vibe of Philly pride.

Philly’s sense of pride is something special, and I’ve made mention of it on this blog in a negative light.

It’s fickle, and our city’s pride in our sports teams is a blister of an example for it.

But when its good, when it’s uniting, it’s a beautiful thing to be a part of a city that is proud.

I’ve been watching sports because right now, Philadelphia is proud of something for the right reasons. I wish that pride of being a Philadelphian permeated more than just the sports season. I’m watching Philadelphia sports so I can understand what about it makes us so proud, so it can be applied elsewhere in our daily lives.

Hopefully, I’ve still got my street cred.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/alexharris/3362545031/

It’s hardly a secret that I’m a karaoke fan.

I’m a regular at a handful of the best karaoke nights in Philadelphia, not the least of which is the regular Tuesday Night Crowd with DJ Joe H at National Mechanics (which we’ve lovingly dubbed TechKaraokePHL), and more recently, the Skeletor Karaoke Gong Show at the Trocadero.

I toured across the US with 4 friends in a Winnebago that we converted into a mobile karaoke lounge.

I competed (and placed 3rd) in the first annual Happy Cog Cogaoke Karaoke competition at SXSW09, singing “Fight for your right” by the Beastie Boys. The result? Long time inspiration and mentor Jeff Zeldman approached me in the hall the next day to tell me I “f*$king rocked”.

I’m a bit of a microphone whore to begin with, but when it comes to belting out tracks, I’ve been known to sing until my vocal chords give out.

I even wrote, nay, CRAFTED the ultimate karaoke playlist for the blog Nonpretentious.

I’m not the only one who’s obsessed though.

Raina Lee, who I met during Whuffaoke in LA, wrote a book called “Hit Me with Your Best Shot: The Ultimate Guide to Karaoke Domination“. Epic, right?

And one karaoke mentor, who I’ve yet to meet but have been dying to, is Brian Raferty, author of “Don’t Stop Believin’: How Karaoke Conquered the World and Changed My Life“.

I truly believe that Brian’s thesis is right, and having completed the Whuffaoke tour, I firmly believe that Karaoke CAN change a person’s life…and quite possibly the world.

I think that karaoke has some of the most important qualities of an event that, as a society, we need now more than ever before.

Karaoke is empowering.

Karaoke is a form of creative expression, musically and theatrically.

Karaoke helps build strong bonds between people.

Karaoke makes people smile.

I’m super stoked that Philly’s First Person Arts Festival has brought Brian in from Brooklyn for an event this Friday at the Painted Bride, called: Karaoke Obsessed. First Person Arts is notorious in Philly for bringing some of the best events centered around story-telling to life, including the extremely popular Story Slam.

Tickets for Karaoke Obsessed are $15 for FPA members, $20 for non-members. If you’re a karaoke fan, a story telling fan, or you want me to sing my BEST new track (and hear why I love singing it), I recommend joining me this Friday, November 6th, from 9-11pm. Tickets are available online.

The Summit is officially underway, and there’s a possibility that if you’re reading this…that you’re already at the Philadelphia Convention Center, or you’re on your way there.

There’s still a massive amount of distortion in the continuing debate about my posts, mostly circling around the assertion that “bottom up” is better than “top down”. That wasn’t the point, unfortunately. My two attempts to articulate what I was feeling were largely misinterpreted, thanks to fragmented conversations.

Someone will inevitably make the statement that if I’d participated in the summit, the fragmented conversation could be unified.

In the words of Billy Joel,

You’re may be right. I may be crazy. But it just may be a lunatic you’re looking for.

My point was to make some observations about concerns that I have based on things that I see in front of me, through my own lens. My goal was to encourage people think for themselves, not to agree or disagree with me.

That’s a hard thing to do without a little radical expression.

I’ve had conversations like the one on my  blog at least 50 times in the last 2 years with various members of the community. Many times with different conclusions, often times resulting in more questions than answers. Rather than continue having it behind closed doors, it seemed like it could be helpful to discuss things in the open.

I’ve spoken with a LOT of people about the posts, and the resulting discussions, in private. It seems that’s where a lot of people are more comfortable having difficult conversations. I understand why, but I think it’s a damn shame that people aren’t comfortable being honest in the open. Smart people. People I respect.

I’ve had some of those people tell me I am an unreasonable douchebag. I’ve had some of those people tell me they are happy that I spoke up. I’ve had some of those people tell me that they don’t really understand what all of the fuss is about.

I’ve had moments where I said to myself, “Why’d you even bring that it up?”. Then I remember, “because nobody else would”.

I guess there’s another Billy Joel song worth remembering. For all of the ego I slung in the “controversial” essay I wrote, I hope those of you who know me realize how reality tempers my words.

It’s been an interesting couple of weeks.

Today is day one of the Global Creative Economy Convergence Summit, and I’m still not attending. But a lot of you are, either as a presenter or an attendee. Or a sponsor. Or a volunteer.

My honest to goodness hope hope is that this discussion over the last 3-4 weeks has heightened your senses about what you might, or might not experience in the next two days.

I’m not a fortuneteller, so I don’t know what you’re in for. Nobody does. But if you’re reading this, that means you’re paying attention.

If you’re a presenter, I congratulate you, and hope that you’re met with a welcoming audience and an opportunity to make an impact.

If you’re an attendee, I implore you, to look around at the people and their actions and interactions as they are happening around you.

If you’re a volunteer, I hope this experience proves valuable experience and you take lessons learned and organize your own events as well. This city is ripe for them.

If you’re a Philadelphian, I hope you show our out-of-town guests what makes Philly truly awesome.

If you’re visiting from out of town, I hope you enjoy your stay, and you get to see more of our city than our Convention Center. A lot of us like it here, and I hope you get a glimpse into why.

And everyone who is participating on any level, I hope you spend more time those two days listening than talking. There are a lot of great voices here. I hope you spend more time building new relationships than slinging business cards. I hope these relationships tighten (or begin to form) your bond with Philadelphia.

I look forward to hearing from everyone who IS attending the event about how it went.

Final thoughts, Billy Joel? Who started the fire is still up for debate, but when we’re gone, it will still burn on, and on, and on.

Disclosure: neither Billy Joel nor any of his staff actually supported this post. My lyrical references were for only effect. As far as I know, Billy won’t be at the summit either, but not because he’s angsty about it. I’m sure he’s just busy.

Last week, I shared publicly why I chose not to be involved with Innovation Philadelphia’s Global Creative Economy Convergence Summit.

Response was mixed, to say the least. In a dozen comments, views ranged from surprise to support, from dismay to disgust, from confusion to confederation.

I also had some offline conversations with friends, peers, and mentors, and the majority of the things discussed in “meatspace” are what led me revisiting the topic to this post.

I appreciate all of the feedback, from everyone…in my mind, anyone who takes the time to feedback at all cares one way or another, even if we’re not on the same page.

A part of me likes the debate, too. I think disagreement is important. As much as I preach alignment = execution, unique viewpoints involve new perspectives. That’s what leads to growth, evolution, diversity, and richness of culture.

The most dangerous thing in the world for me would be to think I operate in a bubble.

I’m not sure what I expected, to be honest. What I am sure of is that my post probably did not have came across the way I really wanted it do, mostly because I was trying to play the hand diplomatically.

I had help refining and honing my thoughts, and I was pleased with what came out…if it was for somebody else. I re-read my post and I can’t hear my own voice. That’s a problem.

So I’m trying again, and taking some risks. I’m drawing some lines in the sand, and I’m sure that I’m raising some eyebrows. I may burn bridges. I will alienate individuals, even some that I know and care about.

My goal is not to be destructive. It’s to open peoples eyes to what I see going on around me. If I’m completely off base, I expect to be told so, and I’ll be better off knowing that. If I’m not off base, and I cause someone to look at the world around them in a new light, then we’re all making that progress together.

Those of you who’ve been around me for more than a few minutes, you know that’s the true blue Alex Hillman.

Let’s go back to the beginning. How far? Pretty far.

3 years.

Almost to the week.

I put out a very specific call to action that I’ve been riding ever since.

Dare to be great. Together.

Please read this post from 2006 before moving on, it provides a ton of context for my conclusion.

Re-reading this post in light of my self-removal from GCECS2009, I realize that I strayed from that call to action for the first time that I can remember. Much like reading my own blog post and not hearing my own voice, straying from that call is a problem.

My post framed the discussion as “top down” vs. “bottom up”, and I essentially boiled it down to “you can’t be both”. I still stand by that, but I was making the wrong point.

I’ll circle back to 2006 in a moment.

The real point I was ineffective at making in my last post is:

I don’t believe that Innovation Philadelphia has been, or can be, 100% effective at its mission of “working to establish the Greater Philadelphia Region as a national leader and world-class destination for Creative Economy industries, businesses and talent”, because Innovation Philadelphia itself has an identity crisis. It doesn’t know what it’s supposed to do, so it does whatever it can to make sure it looks busy (pdf available in case it asks you to log in).

I want to be clear that what I’m about to share is my personal opinion. Not that of any organization I represent, partnership I share, or otherwise. I know that I’m not the only person that shares this viewpoint, but other people are tied to organizations and partners in ways I am not. I respect their desire to keep our conversations behind closed doors, unless they themselves decide to speak out.

I see Innovation Philadelphia as an under-used and over-produced attempt at being a regional resource for a good cause, the betterment of Philadelphia’s creative industry.

I see Innovation Philadelphia as an entity that thrives primarily by associating itself with lots of goings-on, effectively looking busy without necessarily contributing to the things it is associated with. It doesn’t serve its own purpose well, so it places itself alongside everyone else’s.

What bothers me is that this organization hasn’t been involved with these communities that they’re claiming to spotlight until now, when they stand something to gain from it.

For the last year and a half, since our new mayor was elected, Innovation Philadelphia has been reacting to significant budget cuts. In fiscal 2008, they received $2.5 million from the city of Philadelphia. In fiscal 2009, they were not even included in city budgets and pleaded for $1 million of city dollars for the year.

I don’t know where things ended up after that. In fact, a big part of my hesitation to even bring this up publicly is that I don’t know what I don’t know. I’m not an investigative journalist.

What I DO know is that IP’s news site is a reblog of everything else that’s going on in the region. Google searches for “Innovation Philadelphia” budget turn up very little, positive or negative, since mid 2008.

In light of that, GCECS2009  feels like a landgrab for where the real activity in this region is, in an effort to justify existance. They’ve admitted to co-opting a number of other successful formats from the community, including things that mimic Ignite Philly and BarCamp Philly.

Kelly Lee’s persistence over the last 3 months towards my involvement with the event leading up to (and even since) my declination also supports my instinct.

Without my support and involvement, there’s a void in the honesty of how this event represents Philadelphia. Comments on my original post support that.

From the Philadelphia Business Journal:

The conference format combines a mix of structured and informal meetings, panels and presentations with DIY elements borrowed from the tech sector’s bar camp model. For example, “unconference sessions” will be free and open to the public for sharing best practices. There will also be pecha kucha sessions, which are fast presentations kept to under seven minutes to allow a lot of people to showcase their work. Free meet ups will be held throughout the city to give the public opportunities to network and brainstorm outside of the conference format. Twitter and blog feeds will provide live feedback as the events unfold.

Let me be clear: “Free” isn’t the distinction between their events and ours. When we, the grassroots, plan and execute an event, we aren’t doing it to justify budget spending or even our existence. We plan them to satisfy a human nature to share, and the mutual benefit of the members of this community. When corporations hold the same type of event, free or not, their gain is different from that of the participants.

Like it or not, intent affects the execution.

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Even the way that speakers were placed into panels for GCECS09 feels dodgy. I was asked to speak on a panel about alternative workspaces, along with two other people from outside of the region and one local. The fact that these people were from outside of the region wasn’t what had me puzzled, in fact I think that balance may have been beneficial. When one of the other panelists e-mailed me before I confirmed involvement saying, “Hey, I heard we’re going to be on a panel together”, I turned to some people who’d been involved with my deliberation and asked, “What’s up with that?” The other two non-locals happen to be people I know through my own network. Given the way that the first candidate approached me, I have to wonder if Innovation Philadelphia led them to believe that we’d be on a panel together, and if that had any influence on their decision to participate? I don’t know. I haven’t asked them. I hope they speak up in the comments of this post.

The outreach into other grassroots organizations has felt awkward as well. The inception of NxtUp Philly ties a bunch of independently operated events into a unified calendar of creative stuff to do for the first 2 weeks of October. Once again, whose logo shows up on the “partners” page? You guessed it. Innovation Philadelphia.

I was surprised that even the pre-party event was copy-catted. There are hundreds, into the thousands, of bars in Philadelphia. Why would they choose National Mechanics, a known hotspot for our community’s social events, as the location for their party?

Part of me says, “Well, why wouldn’t they?” I think National Mechanics is a phenomenal venue and their continuing support of community projects has been instrumental in the social side of our community’s growth. We are the way we are, largely in part, thanks to National Mechanics. Business is business, and I don’t expect their management team to have made a different call.

But why, when there are dozens of great bars and venues closer to the Philadelphia Convention Center in Center City? Doesn’t it seem strange to host a bunch of people to the Philadelphia Convention Center, one of the most bureaucratic (not to mention expensive) event venues in Philadelphia (compared to the likes of University of the Arts, or Johnny Brendas), but first haul them 10 blocks to another part of town place just because there’s a local hangout for the geek crew? Do they expect to recruit us as conference attendees while we’re hanging out with our friends and enjoying our veggie burgers and Yards IPA?

I’ve taken my parents to National Mechanics and they love it, so I know that this place most certainly can cater to any age range. But lets put the bacon vodka and weekly karaoke aside, consider the context, and think about how odd choosing this venue seems unless it’s a blatant ripoff of a significant number of events put together by our communities.

I’m not very good at arithmetic, but even I can tell things don’t add up.

I stand by my biggest concern about GCECS2009, as an event hosted by Innovation Philadelphia, is that it’s positioned itself as a platform for the often underproduced but highly energized grassroots movement that’s taken Philadelphia by storm over the last 2+ years. The energy of the grassroots that has impacted more than just the local community, but outside of Philly as well. The energy of the grassroots that Innovation Philadelphia has had nothing to do with.

I travel a fair amount, for business and pleasure. In every city, I’m meeting the leaders of their local “creative economies”. Emerging creative regions like Omaha, Des Moines, Salt Lake City, and dozens of other cities I’ve been to in the last 3 months alone cite Philadelphia’s metamorphosis over the last 2 years as not just an inspiration, but as having turned Philly into a potential destination for them to come and grow. Even established cities like New York have begun to interact with Philadelphia closer to equals in the creative/business world than ever before.

Consider this exchange between three New York independent creative business people:

“I like Philly a lot. That’s my Plan B.” “Me too. I would totally live there.” “Sigh, me too”.

Things have changed. A lot.

Just this week I received an e-mail from a journalist in Berlin. He asked me one of the hardest questions I’ve ever been asked:

You’re not the first coworking space, nor the biggest, yet you’re often referenced by start-ups all over the world as their point of inspiration. Why do you think that is?

In other cities, they’re looking to Philly as a model. But none of these have ever heard of Innovation Philadelphia. All of them have heard about our meetup community, Refresh, Ignite, Junto, and without letting my head swell too much, IndyHall.

Given Innovation Philadelphia’s identity crisis, I’m concerned about it appearing as if Innovation Philadelphia has in any way contributed to that grassroots until now.

It’s not just gut instinct. While the business journal makes it clear that they’ve co-opted formats from the DIY culture, other releases make it seem as if the format was something “innovative”.

New Topics, Innovative Format and More Speakers Highlight 2nd Global Creative Economy Convergence Summit

The language they chose makes things really scary for me. DIY activity IS usually pretty innovative. Innovation is not necessarily transitive. That is, co-opting something innovative doesn’t make you innovative.

The odd ball amongst my criticisms: The GCECS keynote presenters.

Well, they did something right.

There are 4 keynotes lined up that bookend each day. Three out of four of the keynotes, I’ve seen speak (in person or online). I’ve watched Elizabeth Gilbert’s Ted Talk on genius, and had my breath taken away. I’ve saw Jane McGonigal speak at SXSW08 and she brought the house down. I’ve read a bunch of Peter Shankman’s blog, and if I remember right, my first introduction was a HARO livestreamed giveaway he did celebrating the 1 year anniversary of Help A Reporter Out. The 4th keynote, Randall Kempner I’m not familiar with, so I can’t say much.

But the other three, though, I can verify with my own experiences as winners.

Presenters worth seeing.

In fact, the prospect of Elizabeth Gilbert, Jane McGonigal, and Peter Shankman being in Philadelphia alone had me glamoured when Kelly told me they’d signed on. I realize that now, and have to imagine I’m not the only person to have felt that effect.

I don’t think that the keynote speakers have anything to lose for participating in this event, though, since they’re effectively hired guns to motivate and inspire. They have a different set of responsibilities that, quite frankly, I do understand. Their individual impacts are larger than this conference itself, and that perspective is helpful for all of us.

While others haven’t been nearly as verbose, or had so many points to reference related to a single event, I’m not the first person to express these opinions:

Innovation Philadelphia has been relentless in getting its message out. I’ve probably received more newsletters, studies and e-mail updates from it than any other economic development agency. Perhaps Lee will raise the money she needs. But if July 1 spells the end of Innovation Philadelphia, I won’t miss it.

For a long time, I’ve shared this sentiment. This is the honest explanation of my previous post was charged with “top down” vs. “bottom up”, and quite frankly, any tone of “us” vs. “them”.

So back to my call to action, 3 years ago.

“Swallow your pride. Dare to be great. Do it together.”

And yet, considering the statements and observations above, I’m conflicted.

I know, I understand, I believe that the message that I can bring to this conference is positive and constructive.

I know, I understand, I believe that the perspective that I can share with people who I haven’t met is important.

I know, I understand, I believe that I need to swallow my pride, dare to be great, and do this together.

That means us.

That means them.

That means the entire city of Philadelphia, regardless of age, race, gender, sexual orientation, industry, employment status, living arrangement, preference of Pepsi vs. Coke, consumption of decaf or regular. Top down. Bottom up. Upside down and inside out.

The big picture is just that. Big.

Unfortunately, things became cloudy in my last post because of a poor judgement call on my part to use speaker compensation as an easy out. Luckily, there are digital paper trails and verifiable discussions to back the fact that my motives have been consistent prior to this judgement call, and that I’ve never been comfortable being involved with this event. My busy schedule this summer provided a front for the time it took me between correspondence with Innovation Philadelphia/GCECS2009 planners, and in that time, I spent a lot of time deliberating my involvement with both. I’ve been hesitant and cautious since first contact back in early June.

If I’m sure of anything, it’s my desire for Philly to continue to evolve, gather momentum, and for the hard work of today will live long past tomorrow.

In order for Philly to win, I need to figure out how to stand my ground and swallow my pride at the same time.

But this isn’t like walking and chewing bubble gum. It’s more complicated than that.

Mark Naples asked me,

If you were offered an editorial board with the Wall Street Journal, would you decline it because that organization is “too top down” for you? Doesn’t that sound silly?

First, I don’t like my values being called “silly”. But given the context of this conversation, I’ve swallowed my pride. Mark doesn’t know me, and I don’t know him. Mark doesn’t know about my motives because he hasn’t felt the effects of my actions.

What this comment illustrated to me, though, was that an ever-increasing part of my role in Philadelphia needs to be a part of closing this gap.

I don’t exactly know how, though, so I’m looking for input.

Is it possible for me to speak at this event while still expressing my concerns? What sorts of things do people need to hear from me in order for my presentation to be effective? What kinds of takeaways can I provide the larger community, the one beyond the grassroots, while not compromising my integrity and values, speaking openly and freely?

The comments and discussion that follow this post will be important. I don’t know the answer, because it’s not simple. I won’t find clarity without your help.

Please, share this post with others, and be honest in the comments. When I sat down to write this post, I committed to being honest and open, and if you’re planning on responding I ask the same of you.

That includes commenting with your name. While I haven’t disabled anonymous comments, I place a whole lot more stock in comments from real people.