Sometimes you feel like a boss lady. And sometimes you’re working in bare feet and drowning in sticky notes.

Anyone else relate?

My mum bought me the ‘Boss Lady’ desk thingy because it was pink, and because it said words she thought were both funny and encapsulated me. Another side says ‘yeah, nah’ ?

I love working across different projects. In my everyday life I work as an integral part of the ResilientCo team, as well as with my own clients in crisis communications and public relations.

The past few weeks have been a balance of strategic planning and crisis support.

Shifting between the two requires a different mindset and focus but working on one prepares you for the other.

Early in the morning, I was startled out of a deep sleep by the CFA call out siren. Heart pounding, I wondered if that was the sign that a levee at Kerang had broken.

Staying in the middle of the almost deserted town, I was part of the ResilientCo team supporting Gannawarra Shire Council’s efforts in flood response, relief and early recovery planning.

An evacuation order in place, shops were shut or open for only limited hours. Essential services, health, emergency services and council staff made up the bulk of trade looking for coffee in the quiet streets.

On the outskirts of the town and across the Shire, the focus was on patrolling the levees, sandbagging and other operations designed to hold the water back or limit its impact, and providing information and services to community. Slowly the water has been rolling in to some communities, and rolling past others.

It’s been a hard slog, and remains a hard slog. The impacts are still becoming known, and the water is still threatening in some areas. The agriculture sector has already been hit hard.

This week, returning for a second deployment after the evacuation was lifted, I had to battle for a car park in the Main Street. People are relieved to return to their community. Services are not at full tilt because some staff are still isolated away. The smell of stagnant water hangs heavy.

There’s a lot of wisdom in the Shire about the water and what it might do. The old flood heads have been listened to, their knowledge often acted upon.

Community members have been challenged to make decisions about their own safety and capabilities. In Kerang and in Cohuna in particular, the community has banded together.

Not yet totally through the response, some of the Gannawarra communities have seen this before and know what the next bit may be like.

It’s devastating. And it’s going to be a long haul.

 

 

 

I wrote about the lives of many I never got to meet.

As a young journalist, I asked questions of their loved ones to learn about them, and to share their lives and loss with the wider world.

The love and grief in family, in friends, with so many missing early on, and later, confirmed lost, was a grief felt by those closest to them as well as a town, a nation and the world.

Through the Lee family and the Cartwright family I learned how much Aaron, Justin and Stacey Lee and Bronwyn Cartwright meant to the world.

Therese Fox, who survived incredible odds, felt like a miracle. Her generous and loving family allowed me in to the Sydney hospital where she began her treatment and recovery. They allowed me to follow her life for the next 12 months as she gained strength and met the first year anniversary of a bombing that rocked Bali and Australia.

I spent the first anniversary of the bombing in Bali. I listened to each of the names of the many dead read out as part of the memorial ceremony, the voices rolling their names like waves of grief over the crowd.

It’s been 20 years. It’s only been 20 years.

It’s unlikely that grief has lessened for the families of any of those who were lost.

Those tears don’t end.

October 12 2002

Government and public health officials are coming up against a universal truth in risk communications and awareness raising – people will make their own determinations about risk using a range of information, feelings, rationalisation and historic knowledge. 

They’ll check in with others, assess what suits them based on convenience, perceived threat and circumstances, and act accordingly. 

The processes for decision making are not straight forward, based in life biases and sometimes – often – emotions.  

Every Australian in lockdown under COVID19 is weighing up what they believe, with their own reality and experience.  Some disagree with the entire concept, we know that. Others are tired. Some don’t think it will happen to them. 

This happens in all emergencies, in fire, in flood and storms. It’s happening in COVID19. In many cases with COVID19, deprivation (knowledge, belief, choice or human contact) is driving our response to the risk. 

Media is currently talking about not just the ‘big events’ potentially leading to COVID19 spread, but the everyday small choices people are making. 

How are you going being derived of human contact, family, ‘normal life’, playgrounds? How is your mental health or ability to pay bills going? 

It’s not just the assessment of risk that drives being able to do what you know is right or required. But the differing responses between states – and countries – to such a public health emergency doesn’t help settle the response. 

And where the response is compromised, risk communication struggles. 

It’s hard enough for communication experts – who have to use behavioural understanding plus societal understanding plus reasoning plus myth busting for communities – to get cut through.

As humans we’ll always (often) look for loopholes until we experience the reality.  It’s a reality that in reality, none of us want. 

It’s not just epidemiologists who are looking at how NSW, Victoria, other Australian states, New Zealand and other countries tackle the response to COVID19. 

Behaviouralists and communication specialists are eyeing this off just as much, wincing or cheering. 

It’s the world’s biggest and most frightening case study. 

Reference: https://lnkd.in/gpg2Bjdx

Wow I’ve had a good time talking to people lately.  In the name of work I mean ?

For the past few months, I’ve been focusing on writing content for a range of clients based on interviews – both employees and product supporters. 

Harking back to my journalist days, I’ve had a ball planning out the overarching strategic approach and questions, getting to know the ‘subjects’, ahem, people, and writing bang on content for clients with a human edge. 

The power of words. And natural human stories. My favourite. 

Sound like something you need? Feel free to have a chat. 

Shoot me an email or give me a call ? ☎️ 

www.nataliestaaks.com.au 

I had a doozy of a topic to facilitate at the IABC  #converge21 communications conference last night – ‘what has your government done well or badly in covid communications?’ 

Starting with ‘the good’ there was a crazy silence.

For the ‘bad’, there were plenty of examples.

It’s perhaps not so surprising when considering a worldwide, fast moving, frightening pandemic with a large impact. 

Some of the international participants were still living it. Political infighting and media manipulation seem universal. It can also be difficult to separate out the action of government from the communication of the action by communicators. 

When I was preparing, I was looking for non-Australian examples. This link collects a number of international marketing and public health campaigns, not all government. 

Some interesting examples – from an American-based ‘You’re freaking us out, wear a mask’ to Finland using teddy bears to demonstrate social distancing on buses before donating them, to Thailand’s ‘Dear Crisis’, resilience building campaign. 

Thanks to the participants at my virtual table for contributing to the discussion ?

Recently I went to a music festival.

Not usually noteworthy, but it was a COVID-real moment; possibly one of the first large events outside footy to be held since…you know.

Because around this time 12 months ago COVID19 became real.

Many of us moved to working from home (if we weren’t already).

I ordered a desk and a chair for my “home office” (ironically both arrived around six months later because…COVID).

I took what I could (legitimately) from the work office including my plants, because though we joked that we might not be, I was still assuming I’d be back.

First lockdown was looming, though we didn’t know that then (did we?)

With the first taste of what would soon enough become familiar government restrictions, it meant in the organisation I was then working for, community services and facilities were being closed temporarily.

I introduced an internal communications function, scooping up additional staff whose roles were impacted, and started running team Zoom meetings with upwards of 18 staff at times. One day, I counted the Zoom squares. Each day, I looked at their faces, wondering how they were really going.

The first time on the lockdown merry go round, it was a kind of adventure for the first few weeks. Because, it would be over soon wouldn’t it?

In between Lockdown 1.0 and Lockdown 2.0 when life lifted for a moment, I got my hair done, tentatively saw a few of my friends, had a covid test and cried when I saw my parents, encouraged my team to get out while they could.

As a communicator dealing personally with the impact of COVID19 as well as professionally, I swung between anger, confusion and relief, always grateful for an awesome team committed to looking after each other as well as communicating any way we could to the community.

COVID19-life is still with us, though undeniably Australia is well positioned in comparison to anywhere else in the world.

This weekend, almost 12 months after ‘it all kicked off’, the overwhelming message at the music festival was centred around the excitement and gratitude of the bands and DJs who hadn’t played in front of a crowd for more than 12 months.

Regulations were in place, as were DHHS officers checking how social distancing was being managed.

The final music act had to pause to plead with excited and drunk revellers to take two steps back before they could resume because, well, humans.

Killed the buzz a bit. How very COVID. But the fact it was even possible in the first place was a moment not to miss.
So many moments, we now don’t want to miss.

This article about how to keep/instill/grow a corporate culture in a distributed work model made me do a happy dance.
https://www-entrepreneur-com.cdn.ampproject.org/c/s/www.entrepreneur.com/amphtml/364250

A combination of forced work from home (pandemic style) and choice (working for myself) gave me real insight (like many) and a further interest in the alignment between culture, HR, leadership and internal communications.

When I hear senior executives note that they can’t temperature check the health and culture of their organisation without being able to walk the floors and see people I think it’s a lazy and old-fashioned attitude. It’s also not inclusive.

Though I get it – face to face contact is amazing – managing a team during a pandemic I found that while collaboration in a remote environment does take some additional work – a distributed team is really just like any other team, whether they work face-to-face or not.

The author notes that “corporate culture is more than creating a friendly break room with comfortable chairs and bringing in a box of doughnuts on Friday – developing it means intentionally engaging employees, educating them, and providing venues for interactions, knowledge sharing and training.”

Culture is what creates a real sense of trust and engagement, he says. This is a challenge in many organisations regardless of where their employees work. The consequences of COVID-19 has just highlighted this more.

This article provides great data that indicates not only was teleworking increasing prior to COVID19 for employees as well as gig workers, but that self-employed and home-based self-employed population has grown. Add partners, third-party providers and freelancers outside of the corporate structure to the ecosystem and traditional structures including internal communications will be challenged and fail.

Despite the oft-stated importance of culture, building, maintaining and living it and whatever values are important to an organisation, it takes work – from all levels – an appropriate investment including commitment and budget, an understanding of how it connects to real life and more than lip service.

Collectively, we need to get our shit together. I can put my hand up and say my own attitude to running teams, supporting and leading organisations and living remote work life has changed markedly, and needed to. This is not reinventing the wheel and expectations have never been higher as the world shifts in post-pandemic reality.

I’ve forgotten how to travel. On a plane. Between States.

I can travel 5 kms from my home, or I can drive around regional Victoria.

But 12 months of home-time has dulled my air travel knowledge.

I forgot to book parking; failed to check-in online, had to google what I could take in hand luggage; wore boots that were hard to remove at security.

Remembered my mask.

A few friends have paused when told I’m flying and looked at me quizzically – asked “was I ready to take the chance travelling on a plane” or simply “was I beside myself with excitement to be leaving the State”.

The answer to both was yes, kind of. Because COVID is still a thing, and the risk while low, is still there and regardless, stuck in our psyche. What happens if I get stuck in another State and can’t come home? Yeah, that’s in my head too.

That hesitancy is a challenge for our governments and tourism bodies both.

Staying home, staying close, has been drummed into us. We’ve got a ways to go to balance it out.

When I corrected an (incorrect) belief my more than 70 year-old Dad had about easing restrictions and what we could do, my irritation was obvious to him. Why was he not taking responsibility for himself and his own knowledge and reading the q and a on the DHHS website?

‘Now wait on,’ he cautioned me, adding. ‘I’ll read tomorrow’s (local) newspaper. I’m not looking at a website.’ 

That to him is foreign. So how else is he going to get his information? 3AW news grabs. 

With a back ground in emergency management and an extreme anxiety and interest in not getting fined (or the coronavirus), I’m a voracious newshound and reader including of Q and A. 

My Dad is not. And my more technology literate mother isn’t either. 

Everyone makes their own decisions, based on the information they have, having checked the information with their peers, friends and community networks for sense making, logic and what they’ve heard. 

Misinformation has been rife. Understanding is low and wishful thinking is rampant. Wilful misunderstanding is a reality. 

But have we – the Government, Authorities, community networks, local government – done the best we could? No.

Have we done the best we could at the time with the information we had at the time? Maybe.

Is it acceptable this far in? No. That’s a failing. 

Trying to parrot the rules to others, let alone following them, continues to be a challenge. 

Shared responsibility and accountability may be the aim.

But blame shifting should not be.

I had to tamp down my impatience with my Dad, take a deep breath and come at it from a different understanding and approach aiming for the same outcome. 

So should we all. 

Teamwork makes the dream work. Such a cliche. But I’ll take it any day.

Next week I finish up with Brimbank City Council after almost 18 months as the Communications Manager of a bloody awesome team.

It’s a team that together we’ve reshaped and expanded, nurtured and grown. I’m so crazily proud to have lead them and so privileged to support them in their talents and their most excellent way of operating.

When I joined, I thought I knew what local government was because I’d been around it lots. I didn’t, not really.

Ahhh the things I’ve learned. The skills I’ve expanded. Care, but I don’t care.

It’s been amazing to lead an organisation‘s communication efforts during COVID19.

It’s been amazing to introduce and nurture an internal communications function.

It’s been amazing to be so close to community and to experience community leadership at a political level.

What I’ve loved most is the team members who have been busy with me every day, who have trusted my leadership, guided me when I didn’t know the way and jumped in when I asked them to.

Who wore funny hats, shared their stories, and dressed up at Halloween with full makeup ?

What a privilege.

That’s what I’ll take with me when I walk out the virtual door. Gratitude and friendship.

Last week I flippantly said to someone “honestly, if you have to do a pandemic, this is the team you want to do it with”. And I laughed.

Then I stopped. Because hells yeah, I’ve been through a pandemic with the best bunch of people around.

I’ve worked with Brimbank City Council for more than 12 months. For about half that time I’ve talked to my team on Zoom as we’ve navigated crisis, advocacy, staff and community communications required in a diverse and COVID19-prone municipality.

A skilled, dedicated, multi-disciplined team that has shifted and morphed and grown through crisis with smiles and tired faces.

Together we’ve onboarded new team members in circumstances far more challenging than just starting a new job. Hello lockdown life, remote schooling, opening and closing facilities and public health concerns.

Team building and being a team has taken on new meaning for organisations unfamiliar with remote work and entrenched in physically turning up every day.

But I can’t be sorry to be in this position. I know my team members better now than I ever would’ve, though I miss their real faces. They know me more than I would’ve allowed under other circumstances.

As a people manager I’ve grown, because of them and this pandemic, and how bloody good is that.