Originally published in the February 2004 Issue of Link & Learn. 

The economy is tight. My company no longer has wads of money to throw at high-priced consultants to transform our culture. If change is to happen, it'll have to be done by ordinary employees - and on a minuscule budget. And I'm discovering that I may need to get personally involved. My two-part plan is presently underway - and it's cheap and fun (two clear signs that senior management won't embrace it). But who cares? With limited financial resources from my company, I'm learning to look to small pleasures to keep me engaged in the business.

It Starts Small

The first part of the plan all started with Beverly. She works in accounting. She's not the department head. She's not even on our list of "High Potential" employees. Fact is, Beverly's a union worker. But she's wonderful. When I have an accounting problem, I go to Bev. When I fall short in following the most recent financial procedure, I go to Bev. On the days I can't get to her, it's often because there are other befuddled employees seeking out her practical wisdom.

Does my company need to reengineer accounting practices to make them more user-friendly and efficient? You bet! However, based on my limited experience in dealing with accountants, it's unlikely to happen in my lifetime. So in the interim, I rely on Beverly.

A Serendipitous Moment

I was in the local dollar store the other day looking for a cheap nightlight for my son's bedroom. Wandering down the aisles, I saw a coffee mug engraved with a heart that read: "You're the Greatest." The cup made me think of Beverly so I bought it. On the way back to my office, I passed her desk. "I got you a small gift, Bev… a present for all the help you give me." With that. I took the cup out and gave it to her.

She smiled. "Even though I don't drink coffee," Bev said, "I still love it. I can use it to hold my pens and pencils." But more than her words, it was the look in her eyes that captivated me. It was a glint of appreciation. A sparkle of affection. A tinge of some positive primordial emotion tethered to the woman's sacred soul. It was one of those rare moments of Divine Revelation in the workplace.

Something more was going on here than the exchange of porcelain. Something, I suspect, that was only loosely connected to the fact that the cup was hand-painted in China. It was a small moment of acknowledgement for the talent of a lone employee who was making a difference. It represented an undersized deposit into the overdrawn account of employee passion that, daily, gets bestowed for the sake of the corporate common good. My single regret from the encounter was that there was no high-priced consultant nearby to witness the event.

I now regularly find myself visiting the dollar store and using my small budget to keep the tectonic plates of culture change in steady movement.

It Ends Small

The second part to my grand, but cheap, change plan is to take fellow employees out for a cup of coffee. Not Starbucks, since I no longer have the budget for such luxury. We go down to the company cafeteria, where it costs me 80 cents. If they want a juice, it's a dime more. I tend to invite folks who other employees are drawn towards - folks who represent a type of "heliotropic leadership" in the rugged jungle of business life; folks who radiate a natural luminescence that coworkers gravitate towards and are nurtured by. With these folks around, corporate toxicity is keep to a minimum and a form of workplace photosynthesis takes place.

I spend the first part of these caffeine-laden meetings expressing my appreciation and thanks. It's odd how seldom people share a personal "thank you" in a corporate setting. The rest of the time is spent in a whimsical conversation about how we might make the company a better place to work. I seldom walk away with a detailed action plan. Most of the time, I merely enjoy taking a few minutes out of an otherwise hectic day to squander them on a person I admire. I'm also darkly reminded of how seldom I detach myself from petty complaining and give some thought to creating a positive future. It's common that these conversations wind up changing me more than the culture.

But I'm learning that maybe that is exactly what's needed in these tight financial times. I believe Alan Greenspan would be proud of me.

P.S. If you're thinking about writing me, give in to the temptation. I love getting mail -- and being influenced by what you have to say. Please e-mail me at KMoore@KeyspanEnergy.com.

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Kenny Moore is a former monk and present day businessman, improvising his way through the daily work-a-day grind. He is co-author of The CEO and the Monk: One Company's Journey to Profit and Purpose (John Wiley & Sons; January 2004). Kenny is Corporate Ombudsman and Human Resources Director at KeySpan Corporation in NYC. He has survived "incurable" cancer and open heart surgery - largely due to luck and Divine playfulness. Having dealt with both God and death, Kenny now finds himself eminently qualified to work with executives on corporate change efforts. Contact: (973) 956-8210; or KMoore@KeyspanEnergy.com.