(Excerpts from Karmel's critical reflection report-- read more about Karmel's SOL project in her full portfolio) 

Right before I left work on Friday, I asked my supervisor whether I could start preparing the IRB documents to contact the child festival participants who would be participating in the later stage of my research. He said we'd have to hold until next week Tuesday, because he'd been talking to a large company that was interested in having access to ICAF research on the topic of friendship and relationships.

Huh?

I didn't really understand what he was saying, but I think he suggested that if a certain talk came through with the company, he'd want me to work on my research project with some local university professor.

I was not keen on the idea of working with, or under an academic researcher. It seems that SOL is a student-driven initiative, so we should design simple methods (on our own) to answer a research question for our organization. I was also worried that I'd lose the direction of my original project as it gave way to other high-and-mighty academic research interests. But he seemed to think that it was quite valuable for my research to attain a bigger scope and reach a more significant audience, and thus serve the organization in greater ways.

I was still not convinced. Of course it could be more "important" to have the research under the name of a university professor. But it wouldn't be of my own design... and it would become petty and complicated... and oh, I hate interference...

Then he asked me: "Would you rather have a small cake, or a big slice from a bigger cake?" I answered readily: "The small cake!" He was like - "No! Remember this - in the real world, you always want a piece of the bigger cake" (translation: to make an impact and to be great you should always aim to take part in the bigger action, not just dabble on your own). I agree with that principle, but my answer held true then. A small cake is complete, its frosting smooth and intact. Cutting a slice of the big cake might give me more to eat, but the pieces also crumble so much more easily-the filling falls out and the whole thing is messy and disintegrated.

I tried to talk to my supervisor about the research during the first few days, but after the third or fourth day, I decided to drop the "research" efforts entirely, at least for a few days. I decided that I could not just drop into ICAF and start talking about my research plans. I had to prove that I was committed to the organization - his cause - before trying to reach mine.

As I began to work hard in the office, I discovered many things about working for a non-profit, which made me rub my rosy-colored eyeglasses. As I wrote in my journal, I realized that "I'm the kind of person who just wants to live all the ideals that these businesses and organizations are tossing back and forth. Running a non-profit organization must be really hard. I wonder if you ever have to sacrifice something in order to be a leader and vision-sustainer. Sometimes in trying to sustain the vision the words that you use to do so become less and less real, more and more just a means rather than expression of an end."

Meanwhile, in my spare hours, I was preparing a five-minute pitch that I was determined to give to my supervisor the next week. I had no idea if he was going to agree with what I said, but I had to figure out exactly what I wanted, and put it in terms of what he wanted-and then be heard. All I needed was five minutes.

Four pages worth of brainstorming was distilled down to a one-page summary. This process helped me to clarify what exactly it was I was researching, and why. If I didn't even know why my question was so important, how could he be convinced? I think I always had a hunch about what I was looking for, but putting it down on paper made me see the logic behind the instinct. Besides my research agenda, I also thought about-what were his interests, and what were his possible objections? These were all included on the document that I printed out at the office the day of my ‘big pitch'.

To my surprise, he didn't even hear me speak at all. He just looked at my summary for one minute and said, "Okay, this is what we'll do". He agreed to everything, right down to the Polaroids! I was amazed at what happens when someone is convinced. So, my supervisor came on board, and I could start my CBR work.

My experiences in collaborating with ICAF so far have validated what I wrote in my final essay for the SOL gateway class. In it, I talked about leadership as a process of making sure everyone (including myself) can cross a border; it involves me negotiating in someone else's terms, following their rules, but still holding onto my own ‘citizenship' (what I value and believe). As I have sought to ‘educate' my supervisor about CBR and what I am doing through the SOL program, I have seen that people can only be convinced by themselves. No matter how logical and thrilling an idea might be to me, other people have to see that for themselves. And the only way they can see is if I give them something that they can see, something that appeals to them.

In a way, a lot of the work that I have been doing just in the office has been related to that same theme. Working for a non-profit organization has opened my eyes to new sets of skills. In three weeks, I've had to seek in-kind donations from large companies including Pizza Hut and Nestle; I've had to sell stories about the festival to foreign and local press; I've had to call and invite top business and government leaders to support the festival. In these situations, I've learned to put a spin on what I'm saying to fit each party's unique needs, objectives and interests. When I do this, I not only say what they want to hear - I am met with much more opportunities to say what I need to say. And if there's one thing I want to do when collaborating with anyone, it's keeping the lines of communication open. As Paul Rusesabegina said when he came to Duke: "As long as people are willing to talk, there is still a chance..."
All this by trial and error, I'm sure. I always want my cake to turn out just the way I wanted it to-luscious and smooth, picturesque, ideal... manageably small. But one thing I'm learning here is that even when the cake splits open it can taste good; even when it leaves crumbs all over the table it can be wiped up.

I'm beginning to feel okay with the mess. Most of all, I now see that any cake is worth making and eating, if in the company of others.