John McCain, once known for his integrity and principles, had gradually allowed his soul to erode. The past several years have witnessed his reversing his stand against torture, his caving in to the Bush administration on economic and military issues, and, in his campaign, his adopting the same smear tactics that Bush used against him in 2000. What the North Vietnamese couldn't do when they held him as a prisoner of war, the Republican party, desperate to stay in power, did. They undermined his soul.

Yet it became clear at various points during the campaign that McCain's soul hadn't been entirely extinguished. McCain, clearly uneasy with the vitriolic attacks against Obama exhibited by some of his supporters, spoke out in defense of Obama. Last month, for example, he assured a crowd at one of his rallies that Obama was "a decent family man" when a supporter attacked Obama. McCain's principles were still smoldering inside him, aching to burst into flame, as his campaign sank into more and more negativity.

Last week McCain reclaimed his soul. His principled character took center stage again. In his concession speech, McCain hushed the crowd when they booed at the mention of Obama. He also exhorted his supporters:

"I urge all Americans who supported me to join me in not just congratulating him, but offering our next president our good will and earnest effort to find ways to come together to find the necessary compromises to bridge our differences and help restore our prosperity, defend our security in a dangerous world, and leave our children and grandchildren a stronger, better country than we inherited."

McCain rose to the occasion, demonstrating a desire to work for the good of all. In conclusion, he said,

"I wish Godspeed to the man who was my former opponent and will be my president."

May McCain continue to allow his soul to lead him. If ever this country needed John McCain's soul, it is now. May McCain's soul hold tenaciously to center stage as McCain returns to the Senate and works with his President, Barack Obama, for the greater good of his country.

The current financial crisis, now international in scope, has awakened the world to the values vacuum at the core of the banking industry. This "anything goes" approach to banking has led to greed, to speculators reaching for more and more until their house of cards collapsed, with the resulting repercussions for the rest of us.

Bob Glassman, co–founder of Wainwright Bank in Boston, has been addressing this values vacuum for some time. In the early 1990s, Bob, then co–chairman of the bank, found himself in a challenging situation. A few years earlier, the bank had begun to experiment with social justice projects, most notably forming a partnership with the Pine Street Inn shelter to address homelessness. Although Bob was committed to a vision of social justice for the bank, he realized that not everyone on the bank's board shared his vision. While they were willing to tolerate a small experiment, a serious, ongoing commitment to social justice was unheard of for a bank. Concerned about the values vacuum in the banking industry, Bob puzzled over how the bank could stay true to its motto of "Banking on Values."

To address this challenge, Bob took small steps. First, he talked with his business partner, outlining his vision for values–centered banking and asking for his partner's support. With his partner's full support, he then went to the board. When Bob shared his vision for the direction of the bank, he found that some board members' eyes lit up and others' shut down. Some self–selected off the board, while new members who shared Bob's vision for the bank joined the board.

Bob also sought to develop shared vision among the members of the bank's management team. As some managers caught the vision and as new managers joined the bank for its vision, an inner core of board members and managers who shared the vision solidified. In time, the board articulated Wainwright Bank's mission:

With a sense of inclusion and diversity that extends from the mailroom to the boardroom, Wainwright Bank and Trust Company resolves to be a leading socially responsible bank. The Bank is equally committed to all its stakeholders – employees, customers, communities, and shareholders.

The shared vision became the rallying point for recruiting new board members and new employees, and also guided decisions about product development and employee policies.

Again and again, Bob Glassman returned to this vision of social justice as a mission for Wainwright Bank. As he sought to take small steps toward putting the mission into practice, he returned to the mission regularly for inspiration and guidance. By 2007, twenty years after the bank's founding, Wainwright Bank boasted numerous products that manifested its mission. The bank provides loans to underserved groups, including loans for affordable housing, homeless shelters, food banks, environmental protection, health centers, HIV/AIDS services, and immigration services. It also offers "Green Loans," loans with reduced interest rates for energy–efficient buildings.

Wainwright Bank has now become the market leader for the nonprofit world. By paying attention to an area that other banks didn't address, Wainwright Bank developed a cultural fluency for lending to non–profits, learning the complex lending laws and understanding the particular needs of the nonprofit world.

Bob Glassman's persistent focus on mission has paid off, financially as well as in terms of the common good. Naysayers assumed that Wainwright Bank would suffer financially for its idealism, claiming that loans for homeless shelters and food banks are risky business. In fact, the opposite is true: Wainwright Bank's $700 million in community development loans has experienced zero losses over the twenty years of the bank's life, in sharp contrast to other banks' loan portfolios. Bob Glassman has observed a "moral tenacity" in the nonprofit world's commitment to repaying loans. Furthermore, in this time of economic crisis, Wainwright Bank stands on solid ground while other banks collapse.

Wainwright Bank has demonstrated that another way is possible in banking. By staying focused on values, the bank has demonstrated, against the banking industry's conventional wisdom, that social conscience and profitability can mutually support one another. It's high time that other banks learn from Wainwright's example, and start "banking on values."

Dear Friends,

This month's newsletter is different from the usual, as I have a new book to announce. The Soul of a Leader (Crossroad) debuts this month. It will be available in independent bookstores near you, and also on Amazon.com. This month's newsletter article is an excerpt from the book, about a cafe for homeless people in Portland, Oregon called Sisters of the Road Cafe.

In order to increase the book's visibility Amazon, I'd like to invite you to participate in an Amazon launch on September 10. For every book sold that day on Amazon, I am donating $1 to Sisters of the Road Cafe, in honor of its co–founder Genny Nelson, one of the leaders featured in the book. Please click here for more information about the book, and follow the "order online" link under the image of the book cover to order the book on Amazon that day.

Many thanks for considering buying the book on Amazon launch day September 10 and I hope you enjoy the article that follows!

Warmly,
Margaret

Leaders who choose the path of leading with soul and manage to stay on track must eventually face the question of whether they will persevere to the end. The further the leader goes on the path of soul, the higher the stakes. Persevering to the end requires leaders to, among other things, understand and come to terms with violence. A soulful leader must learn to break the cycle of violence.

While violence may seem to be limited to countries at war and inner cities, it actually rears its ugly head in virtually all human institutions, whether nations, families, or organizations. The question for leaders is not whether they will encounter violence but how they will encounter it. Leaders who want to persevere to the end in leading with soul, to bring about deep and lasting transformation, must eventually face violence and their own response to it.

Forgiveness forms the foundation of Genny Nelson's leadership at Sisters of the Road, as she encounters violence regularly in working with homeless people. She reflects: "I don't think you can practice nonviolence without forgiveness. It is forgiveness of people who have harmed you and equally their forgiveness when you have harmed them – and ultimately forgiveness of one's self."

For example, whenever a staff member at Sisters of the Road Cafe utilizes nonviolent means to interrupt a verbal or physical conflict at the cafe, participants in the conflict are expected to cease and desist and are invited to reconcile with one another. Often Genny and other staff members must practice forgiveness as they become the targets of the violence they interrupt, and they must both ask for forgiveness and forgive themselves when they do not respond as fairly or compassionately as needed. The staff maintains firm boundaries regarding acceptable behavior; if unacceptable behavior continues, the person responsible for it is required to leave for a period of time. Anyone who is asked to leave is ultimately welcomed back after a formal conflict resolution process which includes telling their truth about the incident and contributing to a mutually agreed–upon solution that involves forgiveness and willingness to change. They get to start anew.

Even if it never comes to blows or bullets, leaders must invariably face their own inner violence and that of the people around them when anger fuels action and reaction. The natural response in those situations is to fight or flee, but soulful leaders may blaze a constructive third way out of the conflict. This is accomplished not by taking sides but by staying centered while thoughtfully inserting themselves into the conflict, intervening by being a reflective or prayerful presence. The goal of this intervention is not to dampen or smother the conflict, but to break the cycle by which violent conflicts naturally escalate. Breaking the cycle in this fashion opens the way for forgiveness, respect, and shared values, the "better angels of our nature," to rise in the conflicting parties, encouraging them to see creative solutions together.

Being in the middle of conflict, whether physical, emotional, or intellectual, takes its toll in stress, fear, and despair. Leaders faced with violence, whether bullying, threats, or dominating behavior, need to draw on their deepest spiritual resources to stay centered in these situations and rely on their everyday spiritual practices to restore them from the virtual or literal blows they absorb in the name of love. These resources allow them to persevere from a centered place and to lead by the example of their perseverance.

At Orlando Regional Healthcare in Orlando, Florida, spiritual care of patients is a priority. Indeed, Orlando Regional has been characterized by the Joint Commission on the Accreditation of Healthcare Organizations and state regulatory bodies as offering "state of the art" spiritual care for its patients.

How has this happened in a healthcare system that doesn't have a religious affiliation? More than 25 years ago, Orlando Regional committed itself to developing a strong chaplaincy program. The Spiritual Care Department articulated its mission: "to encourage the growth and healing of mind, body, and spirit through a spiritual presence of faith, hope, and love."

The mission gets lived out in a number of ways. First, spiritual care for patients and families is offered around the clock through hospital chaplains and connections with patients' own faith communities. The patient’s chart includes not only medical information but also a spiritual assessment and record of care provided and a care plan. Second, the spiritual care department offers ethics consults and help with processing end-of-life decisions. Third, in the belief that caregivers can offer better spiritual care when they themselves are receiving spiritual care, Orlando Regional provides spiritual care for its team members. Team members are offered educational programs, pastoral counsel, and spiritual direction. Spiritual direction, the newest offering for team members, is described thus:

In spiritual direction, team members experience a safe environment in which they can 'unpack' their questions without fear of judgment. In that freedom, they are able to reflect deeply on their life experiences, often discovering that the questions, and the answers, are more common than once thought.

Finally, spirituality is integrated into patient care through complementary therapies. The Orlando Regional Mind/Body/Spirit Center works with chaplains to offer guided imagery, healing touch, walking the labyrinth, a healing high tea, and prayer shawls, among other offerings.

The Spiritual Care Department also convenes a Community Council on Spirituality and Healing, an interfaith group of community spiritual care providers. The Community Council seeks to improve the quality of spiritual care in healthcare, and to offer educational programs for team members and community healthcare professionals.

Through its long-term, careful, integrated commitment to spiritual care, Orlando Regional has served its patients and caregivers well. Spiritual care, part of caring for the whole person, has strengthened the human connection between caregiver and caregiver, and between caregiver and patient. Convinced that whole-person care contributes to healing, Orlando Regional has pioneered the way in spiritual care, and thus served its patients and community well.

On a midsummer's day, a walk around Woodbrooke's ten acres delights the senses. The thriving gardens, the manicured lawn, the wildlife in and around the pond, and the arboretum all attest to the pride and care given to the grounds. Moreover, the delightful grounds outside reflect the thriving programs inside, and invite the visitor to come in and experience the rest of what Woodbrooke has to offer.

It wasn't always so. Ten years ago, as the gardens at Woodbrooke Quaker Study Centre in Birmingham, England went to seed, the building sat in disrepair and staff morale sank lower and lower. Programs that had served audiences well for many years no longer met the needs of busy, late–twentieth–century participants. Buildings which had once seemed adequate no longer satisfied outside groups interested in utilizing them. A commission was appointed to examine Woodbrooke's viability for the future.

From the moment Jennifer Barraclough felt called to apply for the position of director, she encountered bumps on the road. Her "Who, me?" response to her sense of call from God, followed by acceptance that she might be just the right person for the job, was followed by a sense of shock when she wasn't chosen for an interview. When one of the two candidates interviewed dropped out and it became clear that the other had excellent academic credentials but none of the necessary practical experience, Jennifer was called back and eventually offered the job, which she accepted with some trepidation.

For her first four years in the job, Jennifer lived with an underlying sense of terror about her inadequacy. Comparing herself to others who had served in leadership at Woodbrooke, she thought she should try to be a brilliant academic and a dedicated social activist as well as an effective administrator. Fortunately, her terror was balanced by another part of her. She reflected:

"But the bit of you that is terrified is being consoled and comforted by the bit of you that knows something else."

The bit of her that knew something else kept going back to her original sense of call to the position, and that kept her going when times got tough. The bit of her that knew something else also kept praying, kept reading inspirational literature, kept turning to the art that nurtured her soul, kept turning to friends and mentors for support and encouragement.

Over time, Jennifer felt that she was sent exactly the people that Woodbrooke needed: a fabulous gardener, an excellent hotel manager, and a first–class chef, among others. Over the course of five or six years, through many ups and downs, the garden was restored to its former splendor, the building was renovated, the food service was upgraded, and the educational program was reconfigured to meet the needs of the future.

Jennifer gradually learned to accept herself for the person she was, understanding that God had called her to the position for her gifts and skills, not expecting her to be someone she wasn't. Like the flowers in the newly restored garden, Jennifer and the staff complemented one another well when they were planted in the right soil and given the right conditions for their particular needs. Then they could flourish and make their unique contributions to the whole.

Of course, nothing is perfect. And everything always changes. Staff retire, demands for programs change, the economy convulses. Running Woodbrooke will never be easy.

At the same time, with acceptance of herself and her gifts, with reliance on her spiritual practices, and with a strong staff with complementary gifts, Jennifer has turned Woodbrooke around and set it on firm footing for the twenty–first century. Gardens and institutions alike thrive with the appropriate acceptance, care, and nurture.

Kenya experienced a rocky beginning in 2008. With a contested election which led to violence, killing thousands and displacing thousands more, Kenya is just now beginning to get back on its feet.

While NGOs' efforts to help bring about healing and reconstruction are important, business has an equally important role to play in rebuilding the country. Business can rebuild the economic infrastructure and contribute to a thriving economy in ways that are unique to its place in society. While the news media reports on political happenings in Kenya, those of us outside of Africa hear little about business leaders, except when we hear about corrupt businesses in cahoots with corrupt political leaders.

Contrary to the image presented by the media, Kenya boasts many talented business leaders who lead with integrity, leaders who will be pivotal at this crucial moment in Kenya's history. Gerald Macharia, for example, is a Kenyan business executive who lives by his Christian faith. Macharia turns to the Bible for direction in his work, and seeks to conduct all his business dealings by its spiritual principles.

Macharia, blessed with considerable gifts in helping companies grow and turning around troubled companies, understands his gifts as God-given. He believes that, in the creation story in Genesis, humans were directed to use their gifts:
Our role was to maintain the good. So we can't sit back and admire creation, we have to work at it, to maintain the goodness. Wherever I go I see opportunities, and I turn those opportunities into real benefits for the people, for whomever the stakeholders are. That is my role in the calling to shepherd creation.

Macharia has shepherded creation well. At age 26, he turned around a division of a multinational company. A few years later, he served on a leadership team to develop products for the South market, the non–European, non–American market, for Colgate–Palmolive. At age 32, he became CEO of Kenfin, a Kenyan financial services company, and he turned it around in seven months, bringing it back to profitability.

After his tenure at Kenfin, Macharia accepted an invitation to head up Faulu Kenya, a Christian microfinance institution. Macharia transformed Faulu Kenya from an NGO into a commercial microfinance institution, growing it by leaps and bounds, all the while maintaining its spiritual principles. He also spun off another company from Faulu Kenya, which, by a few years later, had become a two and a half million–dollar company.

Macharia's reputation for integrity has earned him both friends and enemies. When encountering envy for his success or anger at his refusal to compromise his principles, he turns to biblical characters as role models, and he turns to God for strength and guidance. When he has faced social vilification and trumped-up charges in court, Macharia has trusted God to bring him through the trials.

Now the Clinton Foundation's representative in Kenya, heading up microfinance initiatives, as well as CEO of his own consulting company, Macharia's track record has demonstrated that living by spiritual principles in business pays off. He has made an impact financially, turning businesses around and growing businesses dramatically. He has made an impact socially, strengthening microfinance and the lives it supports. And he has made an impact on the soul of Kenyan business, demonstrating that doing business with integrity helps weave the fabric of society.

At this moment in the life of the country, Kenya needs to honor its talented and trustworthy business leaders. It needs to give them all the support they need to re–weave the tears in the fabric of society. And the international community needs to recognize the many unsung heroes like Gerald Macharia who are laboring in tremendously challenging conditions to revitalize Kenyan business and the country as a whole. Gerald Macharia and his colleagues, shepherds of creation, have an enormous opportunity ahead. May we give them our recognition, our support, and our prayers.

“Let us see what love can do,” the words William Penn used to guide his experiment in government in Pennsylvania, can also guide us at work. Particularly in health care, love can be a powerful force.

For example, at Joseph's House, a home for formerly homeless men and women with terminal illnesses in Washington, DC, staff, volunteers, and residents alike experiment with "what love can do." Love is the motivating force behind the Joseph's House experiment.

Patty Wudel, now director, first came to live at Joseph's House as a volunteer. What motivated her to work all day at her stressful job and then be available half the night for the sick and dying? It was the love she saw manifested there. Patty's first visit to Joseph's House came as the result of an invitation from one of the residents to Sunday brunch. As she sat at the big table and enjoyed the family–style meal with the residents, she knew that this place was different.

Joseph's House stresses compassion and community. Rather than being a charity that gives to people, Joseph's House is a community of people living with people. The family–style meals represent this philosophy. Over time, as Patty noticed the decline in some residents' health, she also observed that they continued to come to meals. When they couldn't feed themselves, other residents would sit next to them at the table and feed them. When they couldn't eat at all, they would still come to meals for the experience of community.

Loving sick and dying formerly homeless people isn't always easy. Creating community among those who live and work at Joseph's House carries many challenges. Yet for staff and residents, all the difficulties are more than compensated for by the rewards.

“There's a spirituality to the institution. You can feel it when you're in it,” claims Patty. “It can be recognized and nourished and met.” To nourish the spirituality of Joseph's House, Patty takes staff on retreat days, led by an outside facilitator. As their own souls are nurtured and as they build community as a staff, the spirituality of Joseph's House as an institution is nourished. In Patty's view, “Spirituality is not an add–on to the budget or the program. It's integral to the life of an institution.” 

“Let us see what love can do.” William Penn's words are exemplified at Joseph's House. Joseph's House has experimented with what love can do, and has found love to be one of the most powerful forces around. This Valentine's Day, take as your theme,  "Let us see what love can do."

Studies show that 35% of all New Year's resolutions have been broken by the end of January. Organizational change efforts, like New Year's resolutions, follow a similar pattern: about 70% of all organizational change efforts fail to achieve the desired results. How are these two statistics related?

Broken New Year's resolutions and failed organizational change efforts have something in common: they both neglect "competing commitments" to their peril. But the learning that can occur through examining these competing commitments is the silver lining in the cloud. Self-reflective individuals and organizations celebrate their failures as a way to learn and grow.

In How the Way We Talk Can Change the Way We Work, Robert Kegan and Lisa Laskow Lahey point to the competing commitments that prevent individuals and organizations from achieving their stated goals. We break our New Year's resolutions because we don't pay attention to the commitments that compete with them. For example, one of my resolutions for 2008 was to get organized and de-clutter my home office. It's the end of January, and my home office is just as cluttered as ever, cluttered with the photos and memorabilia that came from my mother's house when I cleaned it out after her death almost a year ago. I've realized that I have a competing commitment: to hold onto these objects from the past, and the memories that come with them. My competing commitment, to honor my mother's memory, is one that I can celebrate. Once I understand my competing commitment, I can honor both desires: to honor my mother's memory and to get organized, and find a way to express both commitments in my life.

Like individual New Year's resolutions, organizational change efforts tend to focus on desired change without digging deeper to examine competing commitments. We're all familiar with the term "resistance," used to describe the forces that keep us from changing, both individually and organizationally. It's easy to view resistance negatively, viewing it as the effort to cling to the old when it's time to usher in the new. If instead of thinking in terms of organizational resistance to change, we can think in terms of competing organizational commitments, we will be able to mine rich veins of learning.

For example, when hospital employees move to a new facility, they may "resist" the new team structures tailored to the new setting. By exploring employees' competing commitments (such as a commitment to honor the relationships built within the now obsolete team structure of the old setting), leaders can understand and respect employees' needs. Uncovering such competing commitments can help organizational leaders take into account important values that they overlooked.

The next time you're feeling discouraged by a broken New Year's resolution or a failed organizational change effort, look deeper. You're likely to find a competing commitment that is just as important and honorable as the "failed" commitment. If you can find a way to honor both commitments together, you may find yourself well on the road to success. What you learn from your "failure" can ultimately build a stronger foundation for moving toward your goal.

I don't know about you, but I don't like waiting, thank you very much. Like most of the people around me, I tend to rush from one thing to another in my busy life. When the bank puts me on hold during a phone call, or when I find myself stuck in a long line at the post office, I get impatient.

This season leading up to Christmas is Advent, a season of waiting for Christians around the world. What's the point of a season of waiting?

A season of waiting is countercultural, particularly in the West. In the business world, leaders and managers are rewarded for making quick decisions. Taking too much time to make decisions is seen as wasteful; in the business world, time is money. Yet at least half of managerial decisions fail, often because the decision-maker didn't wait, didn't weigh the decision wisely. Studies show that time pressure, the perceived need to appear decisive, and unrealistic expectations of superiors and subordinates are the causes of this failure.

Advent is about waiting for God, listening to God, looking for the new thing that God is doing. Advent holds a lesson for all of us in this busy world, especially organizational leaders. What would it look like to wait, to incarnate the lesson of Advent in one's daily work life?

Bob Carlson, retired co-CEO of Reell Precision Manufacturing, a Minnesota manufacturer of hinges and clutches, finds that he needs regularly scheduled, spiritually nurturing time away to be at his best. Walking in nature, listening to music, and attending worship services help to keep him nurtured and centered for his leadership role. Without the "down" time of waiting and being open, he finds that he's not his best self as a leader and decision-maker.

Genny Nelson, co-founder of Sisters of the Road, a café for the homeless in Portland, Oregon, spends her "down" time journaling. She also takes time out to pray at the downtown chapel, one her favorite places in the neighborhood. These practices help her to stop and wait, giving her perspective on the challenges she faces, and helping her to cultivate a calm and open inner disposition. She finds that her decisions are better as a result.

The next time I'm feeling tense and irritable while waiting, I will stop and breathe and remember the lesson of Advent. Bob Carlson and Genny Nelson make better organizational decisions because they are able to wait, and to be open. May we all learn from them.

In the early nineties, Landry's Bicycles in Boston faced a major crisis. The company had opened a new store six months later than planned, causing Landry's to miss out on part of its projected seasonal business. With the expenses of a new store, low revenues, an economic recession, and the rent due, the bank pulled Landry's loan and advised the company to file for bankruptcy. Struggling for survival and seeking a way forward, manager Tom Henry presented this apparently impossible challenge to a roundtable gathering of the support group for business leaders, Seeing Things Whole, to which he belonged. As he struggled under the burden of the Landry's situation, a member of the roundtable asked, "How might you see your work as a gift rather than as a burden?"

The roundtable member's question changed everything for Tom. Despite the seeming impossibility of the situation faced by Landry's, Tom began to view his work as gift rather than as burden. Furthermore, he preached that message to his co-workers at Landry's.

With this shift in perspective, Tom found new hope to face his challenges. After the bank pulled its loan, Landry's needed $40,000 immediately in order to avoid bankruptcy. Because he was viewing the opportunity to work at Landry's as a gift, and because he believed in the possibilities of Landry's, Tom branched out to other sources of financing, approaching friends for loans. An artist friend lent Landry's $5000 from his precious savings. Another friend sold stock he had inherited from his parents to provide another $5000 loan. Fairly quickly, with small loans from various supporters, Tom was able to raise the $40,000 he needed. Full of gratitude for the outpouring of support, Tom and the Landry's team reflected on the place of gratitude and the difference it had made for them. "There's no work better than our work in the world," Tom says, reflecting on his new perspective. "There's other good work, but there's no better work. It's a gift before it's a burden." The Landry's team vowed to make gratitude a cornerstone of their work.

The immediate crisis averted, Tom turned his attention to preparing the sales force for a strong season the next year. He decided to receive his co-workers at Landry's as gifts, and began to encourage others to do the same. He stressed the importance of regarding one another as mystery, of maintaining a sense of wonder toward one another. In a fast-paced business setting in which it's easy to view other people merely as objects useful to furthering one's goals, Tom sought to maintain a sense of awe toward each person as a unique human being.

With this foundation of gratitude, Landry's has discovered over the last decade and a half the power of giving thanks. Through viewing their work and one another as gift, the Landry's team has unleashed powerful energy and productivity. Employees love coming to work, customers are satisfied, and the business is thriving. Landry's has discovered a well-kept business secret: the power of giving thanks in the workplace.

Throughout his 25–year career as a human resources professional, Gus Tolson has persevered in putting people first. From his varied experiences working in the financial sector, for IBM, in the pharmaceutical industry, and currently for a specialty materials company, Gus has become all too familiar with the forces that exert themselves to push people to second, third or even last place in an organization. In all his positions, Gus has insisted on considering not only the business impact of every decision, but also the decision's impact on people. Furthermore, he insists that the company communicate with people in a way that maintains their decency and integrity.

Gus commits himself to being the same person at work that he is at home, to bringing his fun-loving, spiritual self to work. Even (perhaps especially) when his company faces major business challenges, Gus draws on all of who he is in order to put people first in the midst of a challenging situation.

For example, in the mid–'90s, when Gus was working at CoreStates bank in Philadelphia, the company faced a significant merger. Knowing that a thousand people would lose their jobs, Gus worked with the company's CEO to devise a way they could put people first, by supporting those who would find themselves in transition when the merger was completed. They designed an internal training program for those in transition called CoreSearch. Employees were informed early on about the merger and downsizing, and through CoreSearch, they were offered six months of training while still on salary in order to help place them in new positions.

In a move that was highly unusual at the time, CoreSearch committed to the ongoing development of employees in transition. For six months, employees came to work every day and worked on developing new skills. They received training and worked temporarily in other parts of the business to gain expertise in new areas. In designing CoreSearch, Gus consulted with external search firms to understand the psyche of a person in transition, a person who's been told that his job is ending, that he must find a new job with the company's help. The company wanted to create an environment in which people could feel good about themselves in the midst of their transitions.

The process was designed around the person's needs rather than those of the company. "It would have been really easy for us to take the shortcut and not really think about the person, the individual, but just the organization," Gus says. But the company didn't take the shortcut. Based on what he had learned, Gus provided everyone with office space and told them, "You're still going to have a place that you can call your own. We want you to put pictures up there and make it yours. You're still going to get a paycheck. You're going to continue to report to work."

In the end, the program boasted a placement rate of 84 percent and cost the company a few million dollars. Many employees expressed grateful sentiments: "I appreciate the effort that you demonstrated, the commitment that you made, to trying to keep me whole." Even those employees who didn't get jobs immediately had time for their transition and were treated with dignity and respect.

Gus Tolson has always been committed to putting people first. Because of his commitment, shared by the company's CEO, a merger that could have spelled tragedy for many people became an opportunity to learn new skills and to move forward into fulfilling work.

Two years ago this week, Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans. New Orleans, the city that gave birth to jazz, had served for many years as an incubator for great musicians. Katrina wreaked havoc on New Orleans' music. With musicians homeless and separated from their bands, their instruments and sound systems damaged or lost, and their performance venues in ruins, it appeared that the New Orleans music scene was irrevocably damaged.

Would Hurricane Katrina spell the death of New Orleans jazz and the other music it had spawned? Not if the Edge, lead guitarist of U2, could help it. In a press release, Edge commented:

In the post–Katrina leadership vacuum in New Orleans, Edge founded Music Rising, partnering with producer Bob Ezrin and Gibson Guitar CEO Henry Juszkiewicz. Strongly committed to getting instruments back into the hands of musicians, Edge led the effort with heart and soul. Along with Bob and Henry, his partners, Edge dared to dream that members of the music industry, so often in competition, could come together for a worthy cause. The Music Rising partners invited all who are involved in the industry to participate, from musicians to instrument manufacturers to promoters.

In late 2005, Edge visited New Orleans and other Gulf Coast cities, talking to musicians and helping them to envision how their music could rise again. As he met musicians whose instruments had been lost or damaged, as he learned about their needs, he invited each musician to dream with him about what was possible.

The result? Each qualified musician received $1000 from Music Rising to purchase an instrument and the gear to go with it. Furthermore, MusiCares, a partner nonprofit which had signed on to distribute the grants, was able to make the instruments available to the musicians at wholesale prices.

Music Rising raises money through donations, auctions, benefit concerts, and sales of a specially designed Gibson guitar that has wood from New Orleans and other Gulf Coast areas replacing the usual plastic body. An online ticket auction held throughout the entire month of April 2006 involved 60 artists, working alongside Ticketmaster and other promoters. Fans bid on tickets to more than 80 concerts, and also bid on special Gibson guitars, autographed by participating musicians, that had been donated for the cause. Artists were quick to support the effort, and Ticketmaster donated all of its service fees. The auction raised substantial funds and dramatically increased awareness of the need.

Music Rising's biggest fundraising event, an April 2007 "Icons of Music" auction in New York, raised $2.5 million. Auction items included Edge's 1975 cream Gibson Les Paul custom guitar, which he had played on every U2 tour since 1985 (which sold for $240,000).

Two years after Katrina, with the need still great, Edge and the rest of the leadership team have recommitted themselves to rebuilding the music of New Orleans. Over 2500 professional musicians are back on their feet, with instruments received through Music Rising, and school and church music programs have been served as well. With all that it has already accomplished, Music Rising knows it can make a difference. Edge has demonstrated that leadersh