Most people accept bad meetings as a fact of organizational life. I never could. Turns out there's a whole methodology built around fixing them — and I've spent years learning it, teaching it, and bringing it into rooms across the Great Plains.
I grew up in a small town in Nebraska — the kind of place where showing up and getting things done wasn't optional, it was just what people did. I carried that ethic into my work as a Community and Economic Development Director and Community Foundation Executive Director. We got things done. Our community moved forward. I was proud of that.
What I didn't fully understand then was why it worked. It worked because we had people who genuinely cared about their town — and it was masking something I hadn't figured out yet.
I was running the meetings. I was also — if I'm honest — running over people in them. The leader in charge of the work instead of helping people co-create it. Moving fast instead of moving together.
Then something shifted. The meetings changed. And when the meetings changed, everything changed.
I discovered that when you stop being the person with the answers and start being the person who helps the room find its own, you can bring people's ideas together in ways that no single leader ever could.
I found facilitation. It was the difference.
I know what it feels like to be the person running a meeting badly. That's not a liability. It's the reason I know exactly what changes when you run one well.
Facilitation and training are collaborative by nature. When an engagement calls for it — whether it's a multi-day training, a large-scale planning process, or a complex team dynamic — I work with a trusted network of credentialed ToP® practitioners who share the same standards and commitment to the work.
Great Plains ToP® is two things. It's an LLC I co-own with fellow practitioners — the business structure that supports our regional training work. And it's a community of practice I co-founded for ToP® facilitators across the Great Plains — a place to connect, learn, and strengthen the whole region's facilitation practice.
If you're a facilitator in the region interested in connecting — I'd love to introduce you.
I live on a farm in Cairo, Nebraska. The land has a way of reminding you what patience looks like — and that the most important work happens before anything is visible.
That belief doesn't leave when the meeting ends.
"Serious work doesn't have to be done seriously. But it does have to be done well."
The best engagements start with a real conversation — not a proposal. Tell me what you're working on and what you need.