This post is a recording of my thought process as I work on the bio. It’s definitely a thinking-out-loud post, so please excuse the lack of polish. If you know me personally or have read through my blog archives, you know that I have a broad range of interests, talents, and job descriptions. Distilling all that I think, do, and desire into seven words will be quite a challenge – I can tend toward wordiness in my writing. I mean, Twitter is work for me, expressing a complete thought in under 140 characters. But it’s good practice for this exercise. So here goes.

First Draft:

I harness the innate creativity within teams.

Not bad; it captures that fact that I work in and lead groups (web project teams, musical groups)  that have a creative component. Not sure that “harness” is the right word, however. Smacks too much of “tied down” – think sled dogs in the traces, or horse racing. I prefer to think that I do not tie down my team. “Innate creativity” is good, however, since I believe that everybody has creative potential within them; sometimes it just needs to be encouraged to come out.

Second Draft:

I facilitate creativity in teams.

That’s only five words. Do the rules say whether or not that’s OK? More than seven of course is forbidden – that’s the whole point of it being a “7 Word Bio.” But fewer than seven. Hmmm….. Is there a bonus for bringing in in under budget?

Checked the Accidental Creative site. No mention there whether or not fewer than seven words is permitted. So I’ll go with a strict interpretation, and assume that it must be exactly seven words.

Third Draft:

I help people realize their creative potential.

Well, that’s ambitious. Not sure it’s accurate, either. At least not yet. While full-time creativity consulting is something I can see myself evolving towards, I have a ways to go before I can credibly claim that that’s what I do. Were I to attempt to claim that mantle today, I’d be no better than the hordes of  self-proclaimed “social media experts” that keep promoting their businesses spamming me on Twitter.

Fourth Draft:

I explore the connections across many domains.

This is close. Design, music, art, project management – the things I spend my time doing in my professional and private life – all have so many shared characteristics. Concepts of rhythm and structure, for example, that I learn as a musician have visual counterparts in graphic design. I’m a firm believer that innovative thinking springs from the intersections of disparate domains, which this draft describes nicely as well. And as a project manager, I draw upon my broad domain experiences to enhance my understanding of the detailed challenges that my team faces, so even that is addressed.

I’m going to go with this one for now. I’m sure it’ll evolve over time as I grow, but “close enough” is “good enough” for this exercise.

For those of you who are unaware, BarCamp is a “technology and media un-conference.” Unlike typical conferences, where attendees pay upwards of $1000 to experience a highly choreographed package of industry leader presentations, workshops, and networking, BarCamp follows more of a grass-roots, DIY model. Instead of following a pre-selected agenda and lineup of speakers, BarCampers themselves vote on who presents what at the start of the day. If you have a topic that you want to talk about, you get a chance to give your pitch before the entire group. If enough people want to hear what you have to offer, you get a spot on the schedule (hopefully not up against the “How to Make Money Online” session), and voila! you’re now a featured speaker.

Being a first-time Bar Camper, I didn’t have anything prepared to present, so I mostly observed, learned, chipped in my two cents here and there, and met a few people who I had only previously “known” through Twitter. Unfortunately, I was only able to attend the afternoon portion of the day, so I missed out on quite a bit of the fun. I’ll make up for that next time – I’ll make it a point to have a babysitter lined up well in advance. But from what I did experience, I’ve come away with a few impressions:

• BarCamp is like herding cats. Kudos to the organizers for putting it together and keeping it on track. Although it seemed a bit chaotic at times, a semblance of order eventually emerged. If you come into such an event expecting to follow a smoothly run program where everything runs on schedule with flash and pizzazz, you will be disappointed. But if you’re in tune with the whole improvisational, DIY, can-do ethic, you will find rewards.
• BarCamp is about participants, not spectators. There’s a blurry line between audience and performer. More than one spontaneous discussion arose among Campers who weren’t currently attending one of the “official” sessions.
• BarCamp can be a great vehicle for creativity and innovation. Given the open nature of topics for discussion, the fact that a broad cross-section of fields and disciplines are represented provides fertile ground for new ideas.
• BarCamp should frighten proponents of staid methods and technologies. This is the kind of place where people who know what they’re doing can compare notes, generate ideas, and figure out ways to get around the roadblocks thrown up by institutional over-investment in past glories.
• BarCamp is cool.

Were you there too? Been to a different BarCamp? Only wish you had?

Comfort Zones = Creative Traps
As a Generalist, I draw upon my divergent interests to provide insight into my own work and attempt to come up with unique solutions. But, like anyone else, I find it easy to fall into comfortable patterns where I’m simply approaching a problem in a rather conventional way instead of challenging assumptions and seeking new perspectives. It’s the path of least resistance, especially when faced with deadline pressure, and can become a habit without even realizing it .

When I’m faced with a problem requiring some creative solution, one of the methods I’ve used to try to break free of that comfort zone is pick some random field and try to identify similarities and convergences between the random field and the field within which I’m working the problem. The theory is that by digging deeply and asking plenty of questions,  the process can shed unexpected perspectives on the problem and hopefully lead to some unique and creative result.

The Medici Effect
Recently, I did some Googling to research perspectives regarding this approach to creative problem solving, and discovered The Medici Effect, by Frans Johansson. It’s main theme is exactly the process I described above: the creative possibilities located at the intersections of seemingly unrelated fields. I bought the book, and heartily recommend it to anyone interested in creativity techniques.

One of Johansson’s claims runs counter to standard opinion regarding the mechanisms of idea generation. According to research, ideas generated by individuals working on their own tend to be better and more numerous than those generated by those working within a group. He goes on to describe a number of factors that account for this, primarily focusing on deficiencies in standard brainstorming methodologies that can lead to ideas being either being lost in the process or not sufficiently developed in the group setting. Remedies include better facilitation techniques, participant pre-work, and anonymous concept building.

Taking it Online
The above remedies can all be achieved through the use of online social media tools. I plan to explore those theories in an online social network that I’m in the process of setting up that will allow practitioners within the knowledge management fields to generate ideas using the random fields intersection strategy. I’ll announce it’s launch on this blog. Members in this group will share the starting point of having similar professional expertise. But I think it would be a fascinating experiment to set up an online network that would connect people expressly _not_ in the same field – instead of starting from the point where interests coincide, start from the _opposite_ end and work to find the common ground. So many online communities assume the starting point of birds of a feather flocking together, whether professionally, geographically, demographically, and so forth. I think there is great possibility in a group whose theme is “Meet people who are nothing like you. The only thing you need to have in common is a desire to learn and to create.”

Image: Contraption Awaits, by Damian Cugely on Flickr.

Having a diverse skill set can be an asset in today’s economy, not just for us Web-workers but for many professions. That specialized expertise you built up through the years in a seemingly secure field can suddenly seem to be not such a sure thing after all if that field finds itself among those suddenly rendered obsolete through the “creative destruction” of innovation, or even if the field simply suffers a temporary downturn due to the recession.

Scott Hepburn at Media Emerging posted today about the struggles that journalists find themselves in these days. With the overall economy the way it is, and traditional media facing challenges from online competition, offshore outsourcing, and well, you know, bloggers, the profession and its members find themselves at somewhat of a crossroads. Among the recommendations in Scott’s Journalist’s Survival Guide was this one which struck a bit of a chord with me:

…You can’t be just one thing anymore. You have to hedge your bets. Sure, be a journalist, but be a news reporter AND a columnist/blogger. Do some PR work, too. And freelance writing. And…whatever. You’ll need multiple income streams to survive in a decentralized information economy.

What he’s talking about here, about journalists needing to branch out and use their core skills not only as “journalists,” but also in innovative and diverse ways applies to those of us in the Web profession as well. While it may well be worthwhile to become ever-more-the-expert in your core discipline, there’s no telling when and where the ax might swing next. Being well-versed in and promoting a diverse range of related skills could prove the difference between a quick job search and a long, exhausting slog to find just that right fit. While a gig you land in a related but not-quite-your field may seem like a diversion from your One True Path, if you keep your eyes, ears, and options open, that sidetrack could very well function instead as a path to where you want to be.

For example, I once took a job as a technical writer. Although at first I didn’t see myself as either qualified for or even interested in a techwriting gig, the fact that I had previously spend a number of years working closely with a group of tech writers had exposed me to enough of the work and issues that I was able to pretty quickly learn what I needed to become competent. That got me in the door; once it became known that I also had design chops, more and more little design assignments started coming my way and before long, I had become “their” designer.

Image: “dodo bird at the Field Museum” by Jeremy Burgin on Flickr

There. I’ve said it. In public. Out of the closet. Forever to be branded with the identity of being “not a Specialist.”

Guess that means I’m now a second-class citizen, career-wise, huh? After all, if you look up “specialist” at Thesaurus.com, synonyms include resume power-words like “professional,” “authority,” “consultant,” “veteran,” and so on. “Generalist,” on the other hand, doesn’t even return any results. Ask around what the term means, though, and you’ll get a whole lot of grief along the lines of “Jack of all trades, master of none.” If you want to pull in the big bucks, we’re led to believe, you have to become an expert in some specialized field. Depth of expertise is and should be the primary indicator of your value in the marketplace. Generalists are nothing more than shallow dabblers – leave the real work to the pros.

I disagree.

Broad Knowledge = Big Picture Vision
I believe the issue is not whether one approach or the other is better; it’s apparent instead that each is ideal depending on the particular circumstances. While the depth of knowledge of the specialist is certainly called for in situations where execution of a task or set of tasks intrinsic to a given field is required, it is often the generalist who, calling upon a breadth of knowledge gained across many related fields, is the one who identifies the problem and prescribes the task that is ultimately given to the specialist. The specialist is ideal for solving a narrowly defined problem, while the generalist is better equipped to see the big picture and its cross-disciplinary connections.

In my career, I have held many job titles: Graphic designer, web developer, technical writer, project manager, and more. Outside the workplace, depending on when you catch me, I might be an artist, a musician, a producer, and so on. And if at a given time I’m not actually practicing one of the above activities, chances are good I’ll be reading something for the sake of nothing more than intellectual curiosity. Archaeology? Check. Military history? Pretty weird for a liberal, I suppose, but I find the subject fascinating. Alternative energy, ancient religions…you get the picture.

Universal principles cross boundaries
The benefit I have noticed over my years partaking from the sampler platter of knowledge is that what I learn in one field often applies in others and yields insights that I may not have realized had I focused exclusively within one area. For example, while studying the construction of bass lines in music composition, I was introduced to an approach where, through a sort of stream-of-consciousness improvisational method, you come up with what amounts to a first draft of your part in the song. Then, through a more left-brain oriented analysis, you systematically remove components of the part that aren’t absolutely necessary to convey the rhythm, harmony, and overall spirit of the song. What you are left with after this process of reduction, often taking place over many iterations, is THE fundamental bass line for that song. The parts that don’t make the cut can always be used for embellishments and such in performance situations later on, but those extras always come across better when the foundation is solid.

At the time, I was working as a web designer. I tended towards what would be considered “busy” designs. Back then, I thought these were cool and sophisticated, with plenty of layering, decoration, and assorted pizzazz all over the place. This was in the ‘90s, so I suppose I wasn’t alone in using (abusing?) this aesthetic. But one day it struck me that the principles I had been employing in bass line construction were in fact universal design principles that could also be applied to visual design problems. I started stripping away the fluff in my web design practice, and discovered that the results were much stronger and flexible that what I had been producing before. This isn’t to say that I exclusively use this approach in all visual and musical design work since – depending on the situation, I’ll sometimes build up rather than pare down – the point is that what I learned in one field provided insights into another, ultimately strengthening my practice in both.

*  *  *  *  *

In this blog, then, I’ll be exploring topics of both professional and personal interest with an eye toward how they interrelate and inform one another. As a confirmed Generalist, I’ll be advocating for the view of generalists as vital to the balanced functioning of project teams, core staff, and of course, for the progress of civilization itself.

But back to that “Jack of all trades…” crack that we hear so much.

I prefer “Renaissance Man.”

Or “polymath.”

Much more positive connotations there.

Can I put that on my resume?