A Letter To My First Agile Coach

Dear Coach,

I wanted you to know that I'm speaking at Agile 2013. And it’s all your fault.

Three years ago, you came into my team’s bullpen and told me to put away my requirements document. Instead, we were going to write “tokens of conversations” on index cards. Huh? I thought you were a little crazy. When I worried about documenting the details, you sighed and said, “Just put some notes on the back of the card.” Ok, more than a little crazy.

I tried to withhold judgment, which you know can be difficult for me. J I was eager for a better way of working so I was willing to see where you were taking us.

Then you put two keyboards and two mice at all the shared pc’s. Huh? You told me that it was better to have two people working on one thing than two people working on two different things. You gave reasons like knowledge sharing and cleaner code. I found the idea unorthodox, but intriguing. (And I’ll admit that it was more than a little comical to watch one of the resistant developers move his mouse around while you tried to drive.)

You patiently and repeatedly had debates with our QA folks about the value of automated acceptance tests. By then I was drinking the kool-aid and couldn’t believe people were arguing against automation. I was impressed with your calm persistence, which paid off. We began the test automation journey and eventually the BAQA’s were learning Ruby so we could help write the tests. This BA was writing code – it was awesome!

Those are just a few examples of how you challenged our assumptions and stretched our skills as you helped us uncover better ways of developing software. It was a bumpy ride and I thought I would wear you out with all of my questions. But you didn't give up. You taught everything you knew to anyone who wanted to learn.

You left before I wanted you to, which is probably a common sentiment for good coaches. But you made your mark. I always had a drive to make things better; you gave me the words and actions to channel my energy. So I will face my fear of public speaking and share my story at Agile 2013. Just know that I have you to blame for it. J

All the best,

dzw

Are We Creating The Best Situations?

Esther Derby posted a tweet recently about imagining a company “where every employee was trusted to use her best judgment to act in the interest of the customer and the company.” I’m guessing that I rolled my eyes and sighed when I first read it because I can’t imagine this world.

How many of you go to work, look around, and think that every person belongs there? If you do, congratulations. Don’t ever leave that job! I’m generalizing, but a lot of us go to work, look around and think, “How did that person ever get that job?” I certainly wouldn’t trust some of my coworkers to act in the best interests of the customer or the company.

Then the Twitter conversation turned to the Retrospective Prime Directive.

Regardless of what we discover, we understand and truly believe that everyone did the best job they could, given what they knew at the time, their skills and abilities, the resources available, and the situation at hand.

Shouldn’t I think the best of people? Shouldn’t I assume that everyone is trying really hard to do all that they can? I think the answers are yes and yes. The Prime Directive can be a meaningful reminder to focus on the positive instead of placing blame. But I also believe that it can do more harm than good.

Namely, it can provide an excuse for not dealing with staffing issues. Don’t worry about Bob; he tried his best this iteration. He’s just having a hard time understanding how our <insert technical jargon> works. We overlook the fact that Bob’s been on the team for a year and if he doesn’t understand it yet, he probably never will. We don’t want to admit that maybe we hired the wrong guy.

It’s abused even more around personality conflicts. Be patient with Jill; she didn’t mean to be rude. She’s just having a rough time adjusting to pairing. We neglect the fact that the team has been pairing for 6 months and Jill has been ornery since the start. She does not want to be there.

Have we created situations where Bob and Jill can succeed? Are we helping them or their teams by leaving them in their current situations? I think the answers are no and no. Bob and Jill are likely fully aware of the mismatches in technical competency and personal preferences. And the team definitely feels the discrepancies.

So what about the team? Can they succeed with members that don’t fit? The answer here is maybe. If the rest of the team is knowledgeable and passionate about delivering value, they can compensate for the misfits. They can still produce software, but it will take its toll on team morale over time.

It is challenging to address situations where our hiring decisions resulted in a poor job fit for an individual. But is avoiding a difficult conversation worth the cost? Are we creating the best situations for all of our employees? I guess that’s not my decision to make.