A Tale of Five Dinners

As a professional campus speaker, I am frequently asked to a dinner before or after my keynotes. Sometimes these are fun, rewarding experiences, with lots of laughs and good ideas shared. Other times, I want to take the fork off the table and jam it in my eye.

Here are five very common dinners that I experience on a regular basis.


The Dinner I Like

The advisor asks if I want to go grab a beer or a bite to eat after the program. We sit there and have a really great conversation about Student Life, families, kids, football, Chris Brown vs. Rhianna, whatever. It doesn't matter what we eat, and it feels great to make a lasting connection with a campus professional. I've had awesome dinners like this recently, one with my friend Kaye in LaCrosse, Wisconsin, and another with my pal Kelly Jo in Iowa City. It feels great to make a new friend or reconnect with an old one when you're spending a long stretch on the road.

The Other Dinner I Like

A couple of students (and sometimes an advisor) who have worked to bring me to campus want to go out for a meal before or after the program at a quiet restaurant. Since there isn't music blaring, we can hear each other as we spend time discussing issues they are facing. They know a little (or a lot) about me, and they ask my opinions. It's a small group, and I ask them about their challenges. They share honest stories from their experiences, and I give them some ideas I've come across from other campuses. Everyone is at this dinner because they want to be. I get some information that will help me in the keynote that night, or at the keynote tomorrow night at the next school.

The "Speaker as a Free Meal Ticket" Dinner

The sponsor says, "Some of the students want to take you out to eat before the program." About 14 of them show up, and they don't know a thing about me or what I'm speaking about. Then, throughout the meal, they talk among themselves about their plans for the weekend, that crazy thing that happened at the Greek Week event last night, or about who's dating whom. Everyone at the table orders the big meal because their organization is paying the bill, and most of them also order an alcoholic beverage. I sit there for the first 20 minutes trying to make a connection, even though no one is actually talking to me, and then I excuse myself to go make a phone call. I return to the dining area to see that no one is missing me, so I sit at the bar and have a conversation with the bartender. After the $400 bill is paid, half the students tell me it was nice to meet me, but they can't come to the program. They have other things to do.

The Surprise Program Dinner

I show up to a student dinner (usually at the Student Union) and find out that the staff member has actually gathered a rather large group together for a dinner program. I thought we were just eating and having casual conversation, but no. The advisor is expecting a dinner speech, and I suddenly have to pull something out of the air. And, since these students will likely be in my keynote two hours later, I have to talk about something different than what's in the main talk. Sometimes at these dinners, the students are attending because they were told they had to, and the advisor sits there and says things like, "What questions do you guys have for T.J.?" The students stare blankly at their plates. Feeling like the unwanted elderly aunt at Sunday night dinner, I lamely ask, "What are some of the biggest issues you've faced so far this academic year?" More plate staring.

The "Come Eat at Our Fraternity House" Dinner

I'm invited for dinner at a fraternity or sorority house prior to the program. I show up at the door, and the brother who answers has no idea who I am. I ask for the person I'm meeting and the young man in sweatpants and a wife-beater slurping cereal from a bowl tells me to wait in the foyer. Other brothers walk past me while I'm waiting and don't say anything to me. My host finally comes down and warmly invites me to the dining room. Six brothers are sitting at one of the tables. When we come in, they shoot us looks and finish up so they won't have to engage with us. My young host apologizes but says tonight was pot pie night and everything is gone. Would I like some cereal?

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Honestly, the dinner is part of being a campus speaker, and it's usually a positive experience. One look at me, and you'll know that I don't turn down many dinner invitations. There are many campus visits where the dinner is an absolute blast.

But, it's a lot more rewarding for everyone when the participants actually WANT to be there. An awkward dinner with stone-faced student prisoners is a soul-sucking experience.

At this time of stretched budgets, advisors want to get the most out of a speaker's time on campus, and that makes perfect sense. Asking the speaker to have dinner to get a little bit more benefit for your students makes sense.

Whether it's a quiet dinner with staffers, or a meal with highly-engaged and interested student leaders, just make sure that you're using the time for some true benefit. Give the speaker some idea of who will be there and what's expected. Don't set up a dinner unless someone genuinely wants the extra time with the speaker.

An excellent video about how to confront

I really love this video. Makes such a good point about keeping confrontations about "what they did" and not "who they are," using race as the example.

Wanted to share it. Thanks to Steve Whitby for bringing this to my attention.

Time to be thankful

At your next meeting, start off with something different. Go around the room, and ask each member to share something for which they are thankful. Whether it's a friendship in the room, something your group has achieved this year, something in their personal life, the approach of basketball season, whatever.

Have your officers go first to set the tone. Sure, there will be a couple of sarcastic, maybe even inappropriate answers as you go around the room, but that's OK. The idea is to focus on the good stuff your members get from being a part of your organization.

If people don't know what to say, they can simply be thankful for being a member, or being alive, or for the opportunity to attend college, or for our men and women serving overseas. Let people know that they can be as personal as they want to be, or not personal at all.

Want to make it even better? After going around the room, have everyone write the thing they are thankful for on an index card, and then post those cards somewhere visible. If your group is a housed fraternity or sorority, post them by the front door. If you're a student government, post them in the student activities office. Athletic teams might post them in the locker room, or perhaps post their own card on the outside of their locker. If you're a student life staff member, post them in your break area or on your office doors. Keep that positive energy of thanks and appreciation going.

Today, our intern, Ryan, took a bulletin board and cut out a bunch of turkeys, putting the name of a staff member on each one. He then distributed five paper "feathers" to each staff member and asked them to write something they were thankful for on each feather. Staff members are busy right now putting their feathers on their birds. It was a really nice way to end our week here.

Sometimes, we get so bogged down by the challenges in our organization or in our workplace that we forget to note the simple things that make being in college and being a student leader wonderful. Give your members the opportunity to express what your organization means to them, and how the relationships they make there affect them.

Time to deliver

Someone emailed me a question this week: "What is the best advice you can give to student organizations and student life people during this time of recession, slashed budgets, and depressing economics." My first reaction was to advise that people should keep their chins up and be optimistic. But, after more thought, here's my answer.

"It's time to deliver."

No one cares about what you meant to do. No one wants to hear excuses. No one has any patience for people who whine, and under-perform.

Shut up, put in the work, and deliver something. In a current economic climate where people are three months behind on house payments, no one cares about tiny, whiny problems.

I heard this morning on the news that satisfaction with Congress is at a 12-year low in the polls right now. I'm of the opinion (and you may disagree, that's fine) that Congress is actually getting quite a bit done this session. But, I understand why the poll is showing dissatisfaction among regular Americans. When the public is pissed, worried and impatient for progress, the regular machinations of debate and deal-making annoy the public more.

When the environment is worrisome, it's also impatient and demanding. It's time to deliver.

Same thing when it comes to your organization. People (your members and your constituents) are looking for results. They don't want politics, posturing, excuses or lengthy explanations of why you can't get something done. They don't care if it's hard, or if your budget is slashed, or if you're having to work more hours. They don't want big, flashy impressive events. They want you to do your job and produce something of value.

My best advice to student organizations right now? Buckle down, and produce. Don't aim to impress. Don't take on wild new projects. Fix what's broken, focus on getting the job done. Get rid of leaders who aren't stepping up and doing their jobs. Make sure your finances are in order, and make sure you have a plan in case your dollars decline. Find economies, and say goodbye to the partnerships, the events, and the processes that drain away resources.

To student life people: appreciate the fact that you have a job, make yourself invaluable to everyone counting on you, and guide people to the other side of this mess. You need to deliver, also. Make sure your time is spent on efforts that yield visible results.

Right now, three strong achievements beat the hell out of wild plans and promises.