In a radical training exercise, young managers from Galliford Try were parachuted into a rural retreat to organize, on the spot, a half-term holiday for 24 underpriveleged kids. Kristina Smith was there.
Your task: organise a five-day break for 24 city kids, with nine ambitious trainee managers you don't yet know. The kids arrive tomorrow and this is probably the only holiday they'lL get this year. Kristina Smith observes some real 'learning by doing'.

There is a strange sound coming from the room next door. A sort of hysterical giggling. What can be happening with the young would-be managers, I wonder.

"Don't worry. This is quite normal," says Hilary Whitby, course tutor, before I even have a chance to comment (some of the delegates tell me later they suspect her of mind-reading). "It's normal to be nervous before the kids arrive."

It is Sunday afternoon. We are in an old but specially designed retreat in deepest Herefordshire and have just had a telephone call to say that the coach bearing 24 10- and 11-year-olds from Birmingham is just 20 minutes away.

The course delegates – 10 people from Galliford Try and Lloyds TSB – arrived at 12:30pm on Saturday. Since then they have been working intensively, learning rules on how to work with children, learning games and activities that the children will enjoy, and then planning how the week will fit together. On Saturday evening they had their last drink for a week at the local pub.

CRUNCH TIME
Now they are shut in a downstairs room, trying to finalise details. The plan is to bring the children off the coach in groups, dump the bags in reception, take them to the hall for a quick introduction. Then upstairs to unpack.

Six of the group have volunteered to be 'pastoral leaders'; each one will be a point of contact for four of the kids, responsible at meal times, bed time. They have not elected a leader as such, but a different leader each day who will look after the smooth-running of the activities. Perhaps this is because several delegates are looking to develop leadership skills.

Each delegate has had a session with Hilary, to discuss how they hope to progress. Each comes with a different starting point, from those who know what they want, to those who just have a vague idea of 'team-working' or 'leadership'.

Things that people may want to achieve include being more forceful in meetings, getting ideas across more effectively, practicing leadership and learning how to listen to people.

Laurent Jourdan, who works in corporate banking with Lloyds TSB, tells me some advice from Hilary which he found really helpful: "She told me that as well as giving the kids a good time, this was a chance to train, we have to practice, to try out new things. So don't be afraid to make mistakes." She asked me "Why do you think that your ideas are not going to be as good as other people's ideas?"

Just after 4pm, the coach pulls in. Unfortunately, two of the kids have puked due to the winding country roads and an over-enthusiastic coach driver. So they have to be taken upstairs straight away. Aha, I think, the first of many hiccups in the schedule. And I sit back and wait for the chaos to ensue.

At 7:30, I am still waiting. Everything seems to be going surprisingly well. The children have been welcomed, unpacked, had their dinner, made name badges and are heading for the recreation hall to play games.

LEARNING TO FLY
Childcare manager Judith Pollard helps look after the kids with colleague Rosi Howes. She is always on hand to advise delegates on safety, welfare or care. She has told me that there is usually a one-hour 'honeymoon' period. The honeymoon is over. But the children continue to behave well.

Course director Charlie Wigzell has already whetted my appetite for a good crisis. The ex-teacher who also runs a management training company for construction firms, is something of a showman, but doesn't pull any punches when training the delegates. He explains to me that problems will arise due to the organisational structure which the delegates have – or haven't – chosen once they realise that they could do things better. The delegates really want these children, who may not be getting another holiday this year, to have the best time possible. You could equate this to the search for continuous improvement in the business world.

Charlie came up with the idea in 1990. It is run by not-for-profit organisation the Barton Training Trust. Companies pay £1,500 to send each delegate on the course.

By breakfast the next morning, things are still running smoothly. "We were all really worried about what the kids would be like," confesses Michelle Jones, a senior QS with Galliford Interiors, who is looking considerably more relaxed than on Sunday afternoon. One of the delegates turned out to be a Jackanory-standard story-teller, mesmerising the children with Roald Dahl's The Witches and they were all in bed for around about 9:30pm as planned.

Each night the delegates meet with Charlie and Hilary to talk about the day, what lessons have been learned, what could be changed or improved. Then the delegates plan the next day. Grown-ups' bedtime is about midnight.

Because things have gone smoothly, the planning meeting was short. This is dangerous, Charlie tells me. Complacency could set in.

The team hasn't really elected a proper leader, Charlie explains. They need to give someone the power to make decisions, someone who will be looking after the delegates and not just making sure the activities run smoothly for the kids.

James Littlefair, who works for Lloyds TSB in project finance is today's so-called 'leader' and seems to me to be a natural. He holds his hands up in the air in the dining room after breakfast, and all 24 children miraculously fall silent.

There doesn't seem to be much dissent so far, although I do hear one of women asking why she now has to oversee football when that wasn't what they agreed. So it seems that someone is starting to overrule team decisions.

The children are really enjoying themselves. The adventure playground seems to go down really well, as does football. Alan Phillips, a graduate engineer with Galliford Northern and the referee, is impressed with the footwork of two girls who turn out to be on the school team.

Judith is impressed by the way Michelle, one of the group's quieter members, is communicating with the group of girls for which she is pastoral leader. Judith has spotted her talking to her four girls, involving each of them in the conversation. Apparently this is no mean feat since this may not be something that ever happens in the girls' home, or in school.

Once an informal power system is recognised, it loses its power

Charlie Wigzell, course director

Crisis? What crisis?
I leave them to it and return on Thursday to find out what has happened on the course. Have the children caused chaos? Has there been a power struggle between the stronger personalities? Has the team elected a proper leader? Have there been tears before bedtime?

Everyone looks tired, which is hardly surprising since they have been going to bed after midnight or later and getting up before 7am. The kids seem happy and well-behaved. I notice one of the boys gazing up at Alan with an expression that looks like hero-worship.

There has been a crisis. But it has been manufactured by Charlie.

Tuesday evening was the lowest point for all the delegates. One tells the tale of the evening training meeting: "We felt the day had gone really well from the point of looking after the kids. Then Charlie blew it all to pieces by saying 'the kids are having a good time, but look at yourselves - you are shattered, you're not organised, you're not looking after yourselves'."

One of the biggest problems this group had was with decision-making, explains Charlie. Everyone was sitting down to make every decision. The group was operating under an informal management system which saw the two strongest personalities running the show. So on Wednesday, when the delegates have a break from the kids for a three-hour meeting in a conference room in the nearby town, Charlie and Hilary hit them with the truth.

Power games
They put up a list of the 10 delegates and said: "What's the pecking order? Who's at the top and who's at the bottom?" This sounds to me like a grim task. Would you like to know that everybody sees you as the weakest leader?

But this is necessary to teach the delegates how important it is to set up formal structures. "Once the informal power system is recognised, it loses its power. But it has to be negotiated, it has to be recognised," explains Charlie. "Some people are leaders. Some people are not."

As a result of the eye-opening, the delegates gave the leader proper authority. They organised for rest periods during Thursday, the last day, and they decided how to address the issue of poor performance, setting up a formal system to monitor how well the activities have gone.

On Thursday evening the children perform in their very own talent show. One of the teachers tells me how surprised she is that one of the little boys, among the quietest in the class, has found the courage to get up and dance solo.

But the delegates are exhausted. Two of them nod off during story time. Then one little boy announces that this has been the best day of his life. There are a few tears, and not just from the children. One of the delegates is considering a career-change to work with children.

The course has been a success for the children. But has it lived up to Charlie's pre-course promises that "life-changing training touches your heart"? "Whatever happens I don't think you will come away from this course saying 'well, it was okay'." Charlie was right.

The delegates wave goodbye to the kids after breakfast on Friday.

Alan raises his arms high in the air as the coach pulls out in a gesture of combined triumph and relief.

Then some of the delegates' managers arrive to hear what has been going on, moving round the groups to ask questions and chat informally.

Some people are more forthcoming than others about what they are taking away.

TSB's Laurent feels that he understands what he needs to do to become a leader. "When I arrived here my method was too confrontational. I was trying to force things," he says. "What I realised on this course is that you have to let people come to you by themselves. If you try to force them, they will get scared."

James picks on professional and personal relationships. "At the beginning of the week, we were all concerned with the personal side of things. We were trying to flatter people into liking us. At the end of the week we were much more forthcoming with criticism. And that made praise when it happened much more sincere."

For some of the delegates, the lessons they had learned were quite profound. "I have learnt things this week that I never realised existed," says Alan. He came to the course thinking that he was a good communicator. "What Charlie and Hilary taught you was how you could open another door, look at things differently," he says. He learnt to step outside an argument or discussion and see it from a third perspective.

Michelle appears to be much more self-assured. "Just because someone speaks the most, it does not mean that they are the most powerful." And the horrifying exercise of ranking the 10 delegates? Michelle is excited by how she will be able to apply that in her workplace. "I'm going to think about my colleagues completely differently," she says.

I leave the delegates to their goodbyes at lunchtime on Friday. Charlie will be seeing them all again in a few weeks to find out how they are applying their newly learnt lessons.

Driving home I reflect on the course. It is difficult to fault. Every delegate has been very positive about what they have learnt. The cost is high, but it does provide 24 children from inner Birmingham, in this case a school with which both Galliford Try and Lloyds TSB are involved on a PFI project, with a great holiday.

Source

Construction Manager