Today we bring you another look “Inside the Board,” from members of the STC Board of Directors on various topics of interest. Today, Leah Guren talks about serving STC from overseas and the input of her furry friend. Note: The thoughts expressed in this post are not the official opinion of the Society for Technical Communication or its Board of Directors, but rather only of the individual.
Service from a Distance: Musings from Across the Pond
When I ran for a position on the Board of Directors in 2007, I knew that I would, if elected, be one of the first STC members from outside of North America to serve. While other “overseas” colleagues had contributed significantly on Society-level committees and task forces, Mark Clifford was the first person from outside of North America to officially serve on the Board of Directors. When I was elected, I become the second.
I anticipated that my main contribution would be to help keep STC “globally honest,” but I never stopped to think about the purely personal sacrifices involved as the logistical oddball. With other members all in a three-hour time range (continental US), I was 7-to-10 hours out of sync with them. Morning conference call meetings for my fellow board members were late evening calls for me, often at the end of a long day. Further, my work week is Sunday through Thursday, leaving an even smaller overlap of available days. From Monday evening to Thursday evening, my time, was the functional overlap. Add in our holidays, and scheduling could become a real challenge.
“Didn’t you know this already?” I hear you asking. Ah, duh. Of course. My clients are geographically diverse and I therefore am used to having conference calls at odd times. What I failed to fully appreciate, however, was the volume of these calls. An hour a month is quite manageable. Six hours starts getting tough.
But mostly, I never factored the dog into the equation.
Let me digress a bit and explain. After years of cats, I had finally succumbed to the lure of dog ownership. (Actually, I had wanted a dog for a long time, but my partner was less than thrilled at the prospect. Ultimately, I ditched him in favor of the dog, a move that many of my friends call trading up.) Terri entered my life during my first year of service on the Board.
Terri needs to be walked. Terri needs to be walked twice a day. Terri needs to be walked exactly when the conference calls are taking place. Terri does not understand how to read a calendar; I can’t explain that tonight I have a meeting, and therefore the walk will be later.
So she stands there at my office door, gazing at me with great longing. I harden my heart, close my eyes, and concentrate on the phone call. Terri sighs and turns around. I hear her nails clicking on the tile floors. Five minutes later she is back, staring. As the call is winding down, she’s standing inches from my desk, exerting mind control as only a dog can. Saying good-bye to my colleagues at the end of the call is Terri’s signal that a walk is eminent. She leaps up, empties her toy basket, runs back and forth (usually with her stuffed dinosaur in her mouth), and generally exhibiting joy.
Curiously, she leaves me alone when I am teaching online, perhaps because she hears me talking. From her doggy perspective, though, Board conference calls appear to be blocks of time in which I am sitting, silently staring at the computer screen, and not typing or doing anything. So why can’t I get up and take her out for a walk?
My term has coincided with the extreme economic challenges to the Society, leading to far more (and longer meetings), more documents to read, more hard decisions to make. It was not what I expected, but I am glad that I was able to serve. The experience has been an eye-opener, and I am left with deepened respect for the work of the staff and of others who serve at the Society level.
But when my term ends, one dog will be very happy.