Do the hard things at work. Because others won't.

I grew up in Bend, Oregon, where the stark high desert meets the piney mountains. It’s got a little bit of altitude at about 4,000 feet of elevation, so the air is a little thinner.

Less oxygen means running is just a little bit harder. We also had lots of hills in Bend.

I was a long-distance runner. So I ran up lots of hills. Then I ran down the hills. Then back up other hills and back down again and sometimes it felt like I was going either up or down.

A really big hill is Pilot Butte, just two blocks from the house I grew up in. It had a paved road that wound around the butte to the top, rising about 500 feet in a mile.

I ran Pilot Butte so much I can still picture it clearly. Especially that last little curve where it got really steep.

I raced cross country for my school, the Bend High Lava Bears. At Bend High, I figured out that those boys from the Willamette Valley, especially the track runners who ran cross country in the fall, didn’t like hills.

So the hills became my calling card in races because I didn’t have the speed to keep up with them on the flats.

Runners generally don’t like hills for obvious reasons. But I embraced them. Attacked them.

I figured I would do the thing that my competitors didn’t want to do.

It paid off. I built strength running those hills. I could take the other runners on the hills and because of all that strength from running on so many hills at altitude I could keep up with them on the flats.

And then I had an epiphany. The place to really separate from the pack wasn’t running up the hill.

It was at the top of the hill when everyone was gassed. Where they least expected someone to really push the pace. Things got even better for me in the races.

Then when I got to the University of Portland, one of my cross country teammates taught how to run down the hill. Yes, there’s an art to it. He was a master at it and taught me well.

So the place on the race course that everyone hated and even feared, became my favorite section. I loved those courses with hills.

Our conference cross country meet was in San Mateo, California. We raced in the steep hills at Crystal Springs and you either were going up or down. I loved it and had a lot of success there.

Running those hills is something I think about often when it comes to work. When things are tough, when I come to those hills, what do I do?

What do you do?

Do you embrace those challenges? Attack them?

Or watch someone else go by you?

Be a maker this year. Make things great.

Over the past couple of months I’m in a “making” frenzy. A creative frenzy.

I made two cutting boards. Helped a son and daughter-in-law do a board and batten wall in their nursery.

Made a desk for another son. Got an idea for a nightstand to make for another son.

I’m making sourdough cinnamon raisin bread this morning. Going to make spaghetti noodles and bread later today.

I have this theory about it.

At work I’ve been doing more editing than writing. I’ve been organizing, working with schedules and spreadsheets and in meetings — many meetings.

I’m about six weeks into a new job and learning about new timelines and processes. I’ve done an amazing amount of onboarding as part of three different organizations. I’ve also had time off over the holidays.

That drive to create isn’t being fed. That drive to write and market and brand and persuade. So it manifests itself in other ways.

I challenge myself to try new things and make new things outside of work. It makes me happy.

I also learn from them. I learn about processes, crafting, refining.

My next cutting board will be a little better. So will my next desk and nightstand.

The next batch of noodles I make will go better than the first.

It’s no different in writing and editing. I keep challenging myself in my writing.

I look back over what I’ve written this past year and two years and five years and see ways to improve. Cleaner. Clearer. Simpler. Better.

What about you? What are you doing better?

Here’s the real question: What WILL you do better in 2021?

Know what you’ll do better and how you’ll do it. Come up with a plan. Challenge yourself.

Seek a mentor. Seek an editor. Ask for help.

Write. A lot.

Make something. Then make it better. Make it greater.

The Question That Told Me Everything About A Writing Job Candidate

The answer to my question told us everything we needed to know about our job candidate.

We were hiring for a writer and this person was a referral. The company leadership really wanted to hire this person.

A person for a demanding writing job in our company with no professional writing or editing experience. Didn’t major in journalism, communication, writing, or English in college.

The writing examples the person sent us were college papers. Not very good ones at that. Who doesn’t have college papers to send for writing samples?

But the candidate was a “good culture fit” in the words of company leadership. I liked this person. I could see the person is thoughtful, works hard, and is someone I would say is a high-achiever.

Does all that make them a writer? Let alone a good writer?

No.

In the interview, I asked the candidate if they have a blog, have freelance writing gigs, or do their own writing. Maybe a journal or something like that.

Nope. Nothing. Doesn’t do any writing.

That’s all I needed to know

If you want to be a writer, then write. Read good writers. Learn about the craft.

Write to develop your voice and style.

Blog. Journal. Seek out freelance opportunities for local magazines or other publications.

Find out if you really love writing.

Because that’s what the candidate’s answer really revealed to me.

Why hire someone for a position if it wasn’t something they enjoyed doing on their own?

I have to write. It’s a big part of who I am. It’s why I have two personal blogs and regularly write freelance articles for magazines.

I need to write. Want to write. Love to write.

What’s writing to you?

Tell a good story. Write simply. Connect with audiences.

The goal of writing isn’t to sound smart. Don’t try and impress people with big words and fancy sentences.

Tell a story. Make it simple. Write like you talk.

The goal is connecting. You want people to read what you write.

Maybe you entertain them, or inform them and persuade them through humor or a tender story or tap into another emotion.

I learned about these things as a journalist when I developed my own brand of writing. Writing with style or flair. My editor called it “Matt Sabo style” and would ask me to write a “Sabo style” article.

I’ll give you an example. This is a story I wrote about a raid on a motorcycle repair shop in a rural Virginia community that got, well, interesting. I took an ordinary story and had fun with it.

A Virginia moonshine operation

Take the ordinary and give it your own style.

Why perseverance is one of those things that should define you

Everyone benefits from this one thing.

Have this one thing and it will be a difference maker for you. So what’s this one thing? 

Perseverance.

Perseverance sets you apart. It carries you through your professional and personal life.

I can’t stress enough how much perseverance pays off.

By definition, it’s “steadfastness in doing something despite difficulty or delay in achieving success.” 

It’s believing in yourself despite seemingly endless setbacks. It’s enduring through exhaustion. It’s patience through frustration. It’s not giving up despite numerous rejections.

Don’t quit. Whatever you do, don’t quit.

Don’t be defined by rejections. Don’t let someone else determine your view of what you’ll bring to an organization. View those rejections as opportunities to learn.

After you as a job hunter, or your idea as an employee, or your pitch as an entrepreneur is turned down, take some time to self-reflect. What can you change or tweak? What can you improve?

Use those lessons to inform your next actions and help shape and guide your future applications, interviews and conversations. 

Be purposeful. Seek out expertise. Read. Study. Get to work!

So how does perseverance look for you? We’re on the cusp of a new year, a time for fresh starts, do overs, new commitments, and new goals.

If it’s not already, make “perseverance” a goal of yours. 

Try it. You have nothing to lose. And everything to gain.

The best ideas are crowdsourced. So crowdsource them.

A CEO I worked for some time ago used to chat me up fairly regularly. I remember he just filled up the room.

By that I mean he did all the talking. Never did any listening. Had all the answers. Had all the gut feelings.

There wasn’t room for anything other than his voice. His thoughts. His direction.

That sums it up. It’s frustrating. It was for me and many of my co-workers. We’re not alone.

Great organizations have leaders who listen. Not every idea that filters up to them will be great.

Some ideas will be amazing. Others should marinate, evolve, get tossed around, go through a brainstorming session.

Some simply won’t be so great.

But the strength of an organization is its voice.

It’s not just one voice. It’s not the CEO’s voice.

It’s not the loudest voice in the room. Or the voice of experience that “has all the answers.”

It’s the organization’s collective voice.

Leaders, do you hear that?

Make your company better. Make the world better.

Several years ago, a boss I worked for decided to have an end-of-year company strategy session to do some brand identity.

Figure out who we were and what we’re about as a company.

It’s all good stuff. But it struck me that this person had launched the company and was running it for five or six years and couldn’t answer that for themself. This person truly needed someone else to do it for them.

That’s not good.

What’s your company about? What’s important to your company?

It should be a big-picture statement. Like, “My company makes the world a better place because we make (products) that help other companies be successful.”

Most importantly, how does what you do help your company do that thing or those things it’s all about?

Finish this sentence: I elevate my company’s brand by _____________________________.

And this one: I make my company better because _________________________________.

Now, try this one: I could make my company better by _____________________________.

Go do it.

I knew I was in trouble when ... (And lessons learned along the way).

I knew I was in trouble when …

I hit send on that email to a faraway corporate boss, even though something inside me said don’t. (I learned not to do stupid things like that anymore.)

As a young reporter, my editor who would go on to win a Pulitzer Prize told me not to write an article like that anymore. (I studied his writing style and technique.)

As a new writer, I asked my manager what kind of style we use in writing our content and she said they don’t follow any particular style in the company. (I got our writing team to adopt AP style and also made a style guide.)

At a small company, my bosses gathered our team, told us how hard things had been financially in the firm and cut everyone’s hours. Then they booked a vacation to the Caribbean. (I left that company shortly afterward for a better gig.)

I was the newspaper’s Saturday reporter and got an eyebrow-raising assignment to go to an inner-city apartment complex for a story about a recent murder victim. Fortunately, I called the regular crime beat reporter—who was incredulous someone would send me there—who referred me to a police sergeant to make sure I had company. (My instincts were right to call our crime writer and double-check the assignment.)

I was sitting in an Oregon coast funeral home covering the death of a fishing boat captain whose chartered boat went down in rough water, costing the lives of several of his passengers. The fisherman sitting next to me stared intently at me and told me twice he was going to break my nose, probably because he didn’t like the stories he read about his friend.. I walked briskly out. He followed me. My photographer across the street saw the fisherman closing in on me and turned his camera on the guy, stopping him in his tracks. I’m forever grateful to the great photographer and my friend Sol Neelman. (Always make good friends with your photographer.)

Change is hard. Change is risky. Change is good.

Change is hard. Change is risky. Change is good.

How are you doing things differently in the way you write? The way you work? Your products?

What’s your level of professional innovation? Of professional change?

If you’re squirming in your seat, it’s time to rethink things. Take a self-awareness test.

Quality matters. Because someday quality might be all you have.

Quality matters. Because someday quality might be all you have.

Look, you can’t cheat quality. Either you are all-in on quality or you fudge a bit, then a little more, then one day you’re not even thinking about quality.

You’re just pushing something out the door. Making a deadline.

And pretty soon, your version of quality is something that’s not very good. It’s not distinctive. It’s purposeless.

How does your brand connect with your community? What's your why?

Your company’s brand is how you connect with your community. And communities you want to connect with.

Brand and culture are closely connected. It’s simple then: Good brands connect culture with community.

Think of Patagonia. Apple. Porsche. Rolex. Amazon.

They all have such a strong brand because they connect so well with their community.

These are all thoughts my friend and branding and marketing guru/mentor Josh Rowe said to me recently. Josh is marketing director at Harvard Innovation Labs, and formerly worked in marketing at Nike and New Balance.

I called him because I was really curious about how brands connect with audiences.

He told me a brand reflects what the community expects. Great brands know what their community wants.

Maybe their community wants low environmental impact. It might be technological innovation. I mean, what will you stand in a line for five hours for? For some people it’s an iPhone.

A brand’s community may want quality. Or performance.

Longevity. Sustainability. Luxury.

Josh talked about Porsche, for example. He said “Porsche” and these words popped into my head: Performance. Sleek. Engineering. Speed.

Or a Swiss watch. You expect it to last forever.

Then he asked me a question.

“You know who might be the strongest brand in America right now?”

I said I didn’t know.

“Trump.”

I wasn’t expecting that.

“They’re all in,” he said. “So much so that they are driving a Biden bus off the highway in Texas.”

 I really wasn’t expecting that. But it’s true. Sadly?

Anyway, good brands do a great job connecting their culture with their community. Foundering brands don’t do that.

They just give you a product. There’s no identity. No affinity. No connection. Hello Reebok, Kmart or Oldsmobile.

Brands need to create ambassadors to survive. Your product then, is a medium to connect your culture to a community, often through ambassadors.

Good companies have brand values. What are your brand values? How do you deliver them to that customer base or community?

Your brand is a mirror, reflecting you, your culture and your values.

This is why it’s so important for companies and organizations to establish their brand values.

Here’s a link from Ogilvy I found super valuable to help you with that: https://www.ogilvy.com/ideas/whats-big-ideal

Establishing brand values is essential. It can’t be a shotgun approach.

Josh said something that sticks with me. He quoted marketing guru Simon Sinek: It’s all about the why, not the what.

People connect with the why.

What’s your brand’s why?

The most powerful sentence you can speak starts with "Imagine"

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Imagine I am …

How do you finish that sentence? What’s on your mind? What’s in your heart?

More important, what’s holding you back as you think about finishing that sentence? Can you finish it? Can you dare to dream and give voice to something greater than you are experiencing now?

How we finish the sentence that starts, “Imagine I am” says everything about our dreams, our hopes, our station in life, our ambition, our failures, our present, our past, our perceived future.

Our faith.

Our fears.

Our value.

Our confidence.

Our desire.

It’s a sentence that either emboldens you with its potential or imprisons you if your very next sentence begins, “But…”

Try it. Say those words “Imagine I am” and finish that sentence.

Give voice to your hopes and dreams.

Then relentlessly pursue them.

Hope.

Believe.

Don’t give up.

Make yourself valuable: An entrepreneur, CEOs, and a marketing expert reveal how to do it

Make yourself valuable.

These three words are huge for any employee in a company, or organization who wants to not only bring value to the company, but advance their career.

I was talking to a young colleague at my consulting firm recently and telling him to `make himself valuable’ by finding something he can uniquely do that brings value to the company and our clients. 

In some cases it’s simply showing initiative. It’s being smart and insightful and acting on it. 

As I was thinking about this I reached out to a few of my very successful friends. I wanted to get their thoughts on what `make yourself valuable’ means. I’ve been friends with all three of these people for … well, decades. And that’s a good thing!

I was lucky enough to grow up in Bend, Ore. This is well before it got “discovered” and was still a middling old mill town with just one little brewpub in central Oregon. I went to school with both Sharelle Klaus — starting way back at Bear Creek Elementary — and Bart Ricketts (my dad and Bart’s dad were both teachers in Bend). All three of us graduated from Bend High School. Sharelle and Bart have had remarkable professional careers and remain in the Pacific Northwest.

Josh Rowe and I attended the University of Portland together on athletic scholarships, running cross country, track and indoor track. We logged probably thousands of miles together across north Portland and in our beloved Forest Park in northwest Portland. Josh has had an amazing marketing career at Nike, New Balance, with some startups in Boston, and now at Harvard Innovation Labs in Boston.

Each of them brings something unique to riffing on what it means to `make yourself valuable.’ I love their varying perspectives. Most of all, each one of them has lived out professionally what it means to `make yourself valuable.’

Sharelle Klaus | CEO & Founder | Dry Soda Co. | Seattle

“So at DRY we have an award for the employee who takes the most `ownership’ – and what we mean by that is that we want employees to actively step up and identify an  area of an improvement or need, create a plan, and execute on it.  This is critical for us as we are truly all owners at DRY through employee stock options but also in that we have to each own the success of DRY.  We work very hard to instill in our team this notion. I think young people can be in danger of thinking much is owed to them – we turn that around and empower them, but they have to be proactive in their approach.” 

Bart Ricketts | CEO | Lease Crutcher Lewis | Portland & Seattle

“I think that making yourself `valuable’ to the organization is probably a case-by-case scenario. For example: as a mid-market General Contractor, we need people that  understand construction, but can adapt technology to our pre-construction and building practices.  So what does this look like? The person that knows how a building goes together technically, but can manage Building Information Modeling / Virtual Design & Construction (Revit computer modeling, etc.) is the current `invaluable' position for us. This might be different for each company, market sector, industry.

When figuring out what to train up on, think about what the company delivers (the value proposition for the client, customer, etc.) and what key skill set that is required or the skill sets that are required.”

Josh Rowe | Director of Marketing | Harvard Innovation Labs | Boston

“I not only tell young people in our organization this, I tell people trying to get a job at a certain place. What do you uniquely bring to an organization, or what have you  done that demonstrates your unique value to an organization?  I was talking to a marketing friend yesterday. He mentioned when he was hired for his first marketing job he had no marketing background, but he’d started a podcast and grew it to 15,000 or so followers in a matter of months. The company hired him based on his clearly demonstrated passion for the space—not for his background or what was on his resume. 

When I was at Nike, I was hired as a financial analyst. Finance was `what I did’ but was by no means what I loved or what I was passionate about. I started talking to people and helping out at events and slowly demonstrated my ability to `do marketing’ even though there was nothing on my resume that said marketing. Here I am 20 years later as a `marketing leader.’

By marrying what you are passionate about or even mildly interested in with what happens in the workplace, whether that is through simply providing insights, writing/blogging, taking pictures, mentoring, or anything else, you suddenly make yourself much more valuable than just another employee doing their daily task list each day.”

Be unorthodox. The conventional world needs you.

Be unorthodox. The conventional world needs you.

unorthodox 

(adjective) | un·​or·​tho·​dox | ˌən-ˈȯr-thə-ˌdäks 

contrary to what is usual, traditional, or accepted | not orthodox

We all should be more unorthodox.

Be inventive. Take risks. Love, nay embrace, a good chance. Have flair. Be zesty. Do spicy.

Grow rainbow corn instead of plain ol’ yellow corn.

Be willing to do unorthodox when you aren’t sure how it’ll turn out.

I’ve been unorthodox in writing and failed miserably. I tried a new writing style for one of my stories I had published in a newspaper and an editor told me to never do that again. I learned from it.

But I didn’t quit taking risks as a writer.

Sometimes I made up words and it worked. Like the time I described a remote Oregon town as the place where the outskirts and “inskirts” are the same thing. Or the time I described a FEMA siren to alert a central Oregon community a nearby dam was failing as Volkswagen “Beetle-esque” in its lack of din, if not outright clamor. Apparently FEMA didn’t really want people to be alerted. I still remember laughing as I watched a county official take out his earplugs and squint and strain to hear the town-saving “siren.”

William O. Douglas, who served on the U.S. Supreme Court longer and wrote more opinions than anyone, had this to say about being unorthodox: “The great and invigorating influences in American life have been the unorthodox: the people who challenge an existing institution or way of life, or say and do things that make people think.”

So go be unorthodox.

The world needs you.


We are what we make. So what are you making?

We are all “makers.”

At work, at home, in life, we’re making and producing.

It’s written in our DNA to make. We make food, goods, and products in our jobs and at home. We also make reports, presentations, efficiencies, or any number of things. We make DIY stuff we find on Pinterest or from YouTube videos.

We also make the big things. We make our lives and we make businesses, ideas, cultures, and legacies.

We’re largely defined by what we’re making. It’s who we are and how we’re known. In large part it’s our identity.

This hit home for me recently as I was finishing a final paper on one of my Master’s degree classes on communications research methods.

I am back in college after a long hiatus with an emphasis on acquiring new knowledge and skills in strategic and crisis communications. My thought process is with 20 years left in my career — give or take — I want to make them count and do meaningful work for great organizations.

I want to challenge myself, be stretched, and broaden my professional network. But my overarching goal remains to do great work and elevate the organization I’m partnering with.

This particular class had been a struggle for me until one of my older sons, a 2016 college graduate who is working in the management trainee program for a global company, asked me if I needed help.

What a gift. I immediately said yes.

So he sat with me and together we pored over my textbook. We talked through the areas where I was struggling. We worked through the concepts I wasn’t grasping.

He helped me walk through a software program to analyze a survey that was part of the class curriculum. He was my sounding board on my ideas for my paper.

It was illuminating. It was fun. It’s something I’ll remember.

His help was a little thing, but it changed everything for me in that class.

And as I worked alongside my son, I saw with clarity what 20-plus years of “making” can look like. It was a reminder in that moment, at the confluence of my past, present, and future as a father, professional, and student, how essential my values are in what I make.

It’s easy to get blurred vision and lose sight of the big picture in the daily grind of life and work.

We can make decisions and move in directions that seem inconsequential at the time. But they can have big implications down the road.

So I’ll share my thoughts. It’s not a manifesto, nor a mission statement. Merely observations and things I’ve learned. Here we go:

— Don’t settle.

— Don’t cheat just a little.

— Don’t just get by.

— Never let failure define you. Let resilience and grit define you.

— Character, compassion, honesty, caring, commitment, optimism, passion … they all still matter.

— Be dependable and reliable in an unstable world.

— Have faith among faithless.

— Always have hope amidst despair.

— Take initiative.

— Be kind. And respectful.

— No one is beneath you.

— Ambition is good. Just take others with you in that drive upward.

— Lead well, with conviction and humility.

— Serving is leading.

— Listen more, talk less.

— Be flexible.

— Truth and authenticity are in demand.

— Find answers instead of excuses.

— Do meaningful work.

— Be careful what you wish for.

— Being “real” and honest never belittles or maligns.

— Stretch yourself and get out of your comfort zone.

I’m sure there’s plenty of other things to add to this list. You know what they are.

And as I compiled this list, I realized how many of these things I aspire to. I’m still in “making” mold.

Now the questions are for you.

What are you making?

What’s your “making” legacy?

That time I went off to college with a typewriter

For my first go round in college, I ventured off with an electronic typewriter.

No laptop. No internet (Al Gore hadn't invented it yet*). No cell phone (I had an AT&T calling card). 

I walked across campus to all my classes, often through the relentless Portland, Oregon, drizzle. It could be quite depressing for a kid raised in the dry, sunny High Desert of Bend.

At least college was affordable back then. An athletic scholarship I earned for cross country and track paid my tuition and my folks, God bless 'em, picked up my room and board. I left college debt-free.

Things are different for me this time around as I pursue my Master of Science in Communication at Purdue University.

I take all my classes online at Purdue, a school of fine reputation that's 756 miles away. Most of my professors teach remotely far from Purdue and my fellow students are scattered across the country. California, Florida, Hawaii, New Jersey, Texas, and many other places are where they call home. I don't expect to ever set foot on campus for this go round.

I work full-time and do freelance copywriting for a side hustle. This past summer I drove across the country from Virginia to Oregon and back while still working and taking several vacation days, all while taking a class and completing coursework online. As "vacations" go, it was different.

I'm accumulating debt in my pursuit of a master's degree. No scholarship was available because I've burned up my eligibility (and possibly because my competitive days are long past, as anyone who's seen my trying to hoof it around my neighborhood can attest).

I launched this 20-month, 10-class journey because I love to learn. I want to expand my professional skills and increase my knowledge. I don't want to be afraid to try new things.

I'm so impressed by the caliber of my fellow students. I'm grateful to be along for this ride with them and appreciate gleaning from their insights and experiences. I'm looking forward to "meeting" many more students this year in my future classes.

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I'm almost halfway to earning my degree and earlier today I got a letter from Purdue. It was a Graduate Certificate in Strategic Communication Management that I earned after completing my first few classes. When I showed it around the house, my wife gave me a smooch and my kids clapped. I'm so thankful for their encouragement and support.

Sometime in December, I'll graduate with a Master of Science in Communication with an emphasis on Strategic Communication.

I imagine there will be more smooching and clapping in the Sabo house. Maybe we'll have a little ceremony. I could walk across my living room to get my Purdue diploma. Maybe we'll gather all 14 kids, two daughters-in-law, and one grandson for my graduation. 

At least this time when I graduate, I already have a job and won't have to move back in with my folks until I find work. 

And I'll be able to write a blog post on my computer and post it on this thing called the internet and people will read it on their smart phones. 

* ;-)