Today we’d like to introduce you to Douglas Smith
Hi Douglas, it’s an honor to have you on the platform. Thanks for taking the time to share your story with us – to start maybe you can share some of your backstory with our readers?
I tend to start my story in a warm, humid gym on a prison unit in Huntsville, Texas. I had been incarcerated about 18 months at that point, and I volunteered to train sexual assault prevention to fellow incarcerated individuals. On this unit, the training was scheduled just after breakfast (which is between 3am – 5am on most Texas prisons). The men were angry, tired, and heartbroken – having arrived in prison just days before. This training was part of their orientation. As a fellow incarcerated individual, they were hostile to me. I was training them to put aside the overt rule of prison life, and to report sexual assault if they saw it or experienced it. Prison rape had been accepted for too long – by those inside, the general public, courts, prison administrators, etc. To most, it was part of the culture. My work, therefore, was changing culture, the most challenging task of any leader.
I learned to become a leader doing that work. I was in charge of no one. People were hostile to me as the trainer. I had no safety net, no one to catch me if I fell. I learned to show up, follow through on my commitments, speak with genuine passion, and genuinely care for the well being of everyone in that room. I learned that I also had to step up and help train my fellow peer educators to improve our knowledge base and training skills.
Before prison, I was a social worker – working for a member of the Legislature – and adjunct professor of policy. Before that, I had trained crisis hotline volunteers. I knew how to train and how to train others to train. I just had to step up and do it.
But I was also someone with mental illness and substance use disorder. I had spent the years prior to prison seeking relief from mental illness and intolerable emotions. When it got very bad, I checked myself (or was involuntarily admitted) into psychiatric hospitals. Near the end of my downward spiral, I started using street drugs just to find relief. My tragic fall from impressive career to incarceration took me through 6 ambulance rides, 3 ICU’s, 3 psychiatric hospitalizations, 1 rehab, 3 jobs, 3 arrests, 1 divorce, and the right to parent my child without supervision. At the end – I committed four counts of robbery out of a maddening desperation for more drugs. I was sentenced to 15 years in Texas prison.
In prison, I kept having recurring dreams that I was showing up at social work conferences, hiding behind potted plants, trying to listen and be a part of the commitment to improve lives. It inspired me to become a peer educator. As a peer educator, I was inspired to use my skills to help other peer educators succeed. When they succeeded, people in prison began to report sexual assault – risking their safety to do so.
After prison, I worked for 6 years at an advocacy organization committed to ending mass incarceration and creating opportunities for people upon release. I was part of efforts that reduced the prison population, removed barriers to housing and employment, and created a strong occupational licensing act that opened up more opportunity for formerly incarcerated people. I also went back to teaching policy as an adjunct at the University of Texas at Austin.
Best of all, I was able to cultivate a team of interns, volunteers, staff, and social work field practicum students. I learned quickly that making a team like that effective meant that I had to spend the time and invest in them. It took me away from my work, causing me to have to work late sometimes. However, I knew that spending time with them – challenging them to stretch, making it safe to make a mistake and learn from it -would pay off for them and for me. I saw them excelling, sometimes exceeding me. They felt empowered and free, willing to take risks and fail sometimes. As a result, my staff and volunteers helped to pass laws, perform important research, and make a difference in the lives of people with criminal records…and their families and communities.
I realized that helping people succeed – investing in them – was my calling. I decided to train to become a certified coach. I added on another certification in trauma-informed coaching. Today, I work in multiple states, facilitating leadership development programs for people with lived experience of trauma, mental illness, substance use disorder, and incarceration. I also have for-profit clients who relish the empowered style of leadership I train. The participants of my training programs are rising through the ranks in their organizations, starting their own organizations, and reshaping how we think about recovery and wellness.
I also work on contract with the Texas Judicial Commission on Mental Health (part of the Supreme Court of Texas), helping communities to prevent people with mental illness – people like myself – from entering the criminal justice system. I’m committed to people getting the help they need outside of a jail cell and then becoming leaders who invest in others.
I love the life I live today. My motto is “The time you spend investing in others is the best use of your time.”
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
My main struggles were not only the mental illness and substance use disorder, but also shame. Shame is at the heart of all unresolved trauma. Before prison, I’d work excessively, trying to succeed and to get a temporary sense of satisfaction. Invariably, I learned that it was never enough. You cannot achieve your way to a shame-free life. It’s a decision you make. I had to make a decision to put shame aside and see myself as valuable separate and apart from my accomplishments. It was only when I made that decision that I started to experience career success and satisfying relationships. I’m passionate about creating trauma informed organizations that invite people to take reasonable risks, fail, and accept feedback that will help them grow. Shame makes you hide, unwilling to see your own results and your opportunities to learn.
More practically, I also had to overcome the obstacles to employment and housing due to my criminal record. These “collateral consequences” are part of the way that our culture perpetuates shame, creating permanent barriers to success long after people have paid their debts. To overcome this barrier, I had to be honest – confronting stigma – and do the right thing every day. It took me a long time, but I eventually found employers and landlords willing to take a chance on me.
Great, so let’s talk business. Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
I am the owner of D-Degree Coaching and Training (the name was coined by my wife, who marveled – “you live life to the D(oug)-Degree.”)
My style of leadership development is to help people connect with the leadership qualities that are already inside them, helping them to get unstuck and into action. I believe that the qualities that make people into effective leaders are already in them. My job as a leadership development trainer is to help them be who they truly are.
It’s a fun and dynamic style of leadership development training. We do lots of coaching from the front of the room as well as small group and pair shares. People with lived experience of mental illness and substance use disorder take to this style of leadership development immediately; but it’s been a surprising thrill to see corporate clients take to this fresh and empowering type of training.
Another feature of my work is facilitating mental health resource mapping, helping communities to identify gaps and innovations they can use to keep people with mental illness out of the justice system. My style of facilitation ensures that everyone, regardless of their position or power, has the opportunity to meaningfully participate. The end product is not that of just a powerful few, but of the whole community. While this service is distinct from my leadership development work, I see them as part of the same mission. I’m working with leaders to create transformative outcomes in this world.
Finally, I’m writing a book titled, Cultivating Transformation: Leadership Lessons from a Prison Cell, combining memoir with the principles of leadership that guide all my trainings. You can preorder a copy at https://douglas-smith.presale.manuscripts.com/
Do you have any advice for those just starting out?
I think it’s important to be clear about what you do and what you have to offer. I notice that new consultants have difficulty describing their services. They name all of their services, confusing the listener. Or, they spend inordinate time describing their services without having listened to the needs of prospective clients. In either case, you learn quickly that your message didn’t land when the prospective client asks, “could you send me a one pager on that?”
More importantly, new consultants should be willing to say “no”. Sometimes, clients think that a particular service will help them resolve their problem, and you know that their solution is not a good fit. It’s ok to say no, but also to suggest a service you can provide that will better help them achieve their goals.
Finally, it’s important that you fail as a new consultant or trainer. This is often the best way to learn. I call my mistakes “fertilizer”, which I use to nourish the practice I’m growing.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.d-degree.com/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Doug2theDdegree
