So where do you think you got it from?

I had finally put together a plan I was comfortable with to get on a plane to visit my 92-year-old father in Florida. Focusing on keeping both of us safe, I researched masks, upgraded my non-stop flight seat, planned for a place to quarantine, and secured a rental near the retirement home where he lives for a few weeks so that I would have many opportunities to visit the place, which is mostly on lockdown. I communicated my plan to others, inviting their thoughts and opinions. And at the last minute, I decided to take a COVID test offered by my employer, a measure meant to further ensure my father’s safety as well as mine.

Navigating the airport was far worse than I had imagined. American Airlines had set up a bullpen-style check-in and baggage drop, and there were so many people that the line wound outside the area and into pedestrian traffic. Signs suggested social distancing, but there was no way not to infringe on others’ space. I admonished the man in front of me to pull his mask up from his chin. The woman behind me kept running into my bag, pushing it forward so she could stand closer to me. Even the kiosks, placed six feet apart, were set up in a way where passengers stood close to each other. No one was wiping down screens. The passageway from the kiosk to the baggage drop was thick with people.

Finally rid of my bag, I got to my gate. It was also overcrowded. There was no opportunity to sit away from others. Many passengers were doing their best to stand along the edges; others were sitting with masks down, eating food they had waited for in crowded lines.

COVID test results were to be posted within 24 hours. Forty minutes past the 24-hour point, I refreshed my email one last time before boarding my plane. Ding: my results were in. I had to work through three screens in order to finally click on COVID Test Results. The airline announced seating for first class passengers. And my eyes settled on the words on my phone, in red, that said positive. The trip was aborted.

Three hours later, after a frenzy of apologies and pleas and a long drive back home, I settled into my home office, mentally preparing my asymptomatic self to quarantine from my husband and the world for two weeks.

The responses from my employer, Pima County, and the Arizona Health Department were almost immediate, organized, and kind. I felt grateful that in spite of the dysfunction of our nation’s capitol around managing the pandemic, local resources were timely and helpful. Tracing felt painful: I was guilt-ridden by the idea that I was a carrier who may have infected other people. I notified my hairdresser, a neighbor who works out of her home, since she and I had spent an hour together (albeit masked) at close distance. An office mate was quarantined since we shared a not-so-well-ventilated space.  Any other contacts were deemed too short or too distanced to report.

I told a handful of people about my situation. The first question each time was “Where do you think you got it from?” Believe me, I had mentally traced every moment of my time over the previous two weeks. Once. Twice. Again and again. I had been, I would say, 90% careful. I wore a mask when walking through halls at work, set up a shared restroom routine I thought was safe. I limited my time in public. Besides the haircut and work, I had gone to the grocery store twice and Target once, both with short lists and limited exposure time. I kept wipes in the car and used them before and after each trip. I had a few guesses, but honestly, there was really no way to know where I had picked up the virus.

As I retraced my steps, I was acutely aware of the fact that my asymptomatic self had come into contact with many people. My view of the airport experience shifted from fear of contracting the virus to fear that I had spread it to others. And if I, someone who had been careful about my habits and movements, had stood in that bullpen with the virus in my body, surely there were others there, too.

My thoughts alternated between “someone gave me this” and “I gave this to someone.” Blame. Guilt. Shame. I’ve had plenty of time to contemplate those three words over the past few weeks. Each is a noun, and each is an action verb, too. Tracing felt kind of like a form of blame, but I knew it was a functional one that would be helpful to alert others of potential exposure either to me or from me. Feelings of guilt and shame were, well, heavy and difficult to bear.

While I had the virus, I had casual contact with a few people who were also positive. I started paying attention to their words, in emails and on social media, to learn more about their journeys and whether their feelings echoed mine. It turns out that feelings of guilt and shame are common among those of us who have tested positive. Remarks that insinuate blame seem more often to come from those who have not. And yet, neither manifestation is particularly useful as we move forward through a pandemic that is surging rather than regressing.

Which brings me full circle back to a leadership stone I—and many other leaders—have written about: the power of influence. Since contracting COVID-19 and walking through my relatively comfortable quarantine and symptoms, I have wrestled with how to use my influence to positively affect others’ actions. My 90% efforts were not enough to keep me from contracting the virus. I have watched as my workplace and our nation have continued forward, “being careful,” but still subjecting ourselves to potential virus spread. In one instance, I witnessed a communication from a leader telling her subordinates that if they acted irresponsibly and caught the virus, they must also take responsibility for the results of their behavior, including disciplinary action, all while continuing to insist on overall practices that may not keep them safe. This wasn’t a helpful message: it blamed rather than offered support and solutions. A leader should provide a positive path forward, especially in a crisis situation. Right now, my power of influence seems miniscule, and it makes me sad.

What you say and do as a leader are critical to your success. Putting aside blame and feelings of guilt and shame, you must communicate a message that is powerful enough to influence others’ behavior, in a way that makes them feel supported and safe. And then you must demonstrate the same behavior you are messaging. This pandemic continues to rage, and we must all be mindful of our own actions and feelings, as well as those of others. If there has ever been a time where empathy for each other is needed, it is now. Today, I hope sharing my story will remind people of their own power of influence and the power of empathy.

Skipping Steps

Ringo Starr said it best: “If you wanna play the blues, you gotta pay your dues. And you know it don’t come easy.”

What does this mean for today’s budding leaders? In a nutshell: becoming a successful leader means that you must put in time and effort. It takes GRIT to be successful. There’s no getting around it—in a field where the pool of leadership candidates is small, and training and support are limited, emerging leaders need to make the extra effort to seek out mentors and other supporters to assist them in their quest for excellence.

We often look for newness when we are searching for just the right leader to create change in an organization. We are looking for a fresh perspective and a contemporary skill set. But that risks loss of valuable institutional knowledge. During a recent conversation with a young leader at a nonprofit, he remarked that “admittedly, the staff we are attracting are green”—this after teachers he perceived as rigid and unable to cope with change had left in droves. I thought it was an interesting admission—he had been actively encouraging existing staff to get on board with his ideas and intentions, but seemed content that seasoned staff had found the door and were replaced by younger and less experienced ones.

The idea of turnover during times of change is a blog topic in itself, but today’s commentary is about leadership progression—climbing the ladder, if you will, to positions with more authority and corresponding responsibility, in your own organization or one you have moved to.

My own progression along the leadership continuum was pretty straightforward. After an undergrad experience where I was tapped for various leadership roles, from resident assistant to sorority president to president of the Optometry Club, I arrived at my first teaching position in a rural high school with incredible energy and enthusiasm. I actually taught a class on leadership and ran the school paper. After completing my graduate studies, I embarked on a career as a teacher for students who were blind or visually impaired and worked as an itinerant teacher in a variety of districts. Initially, when someone tapped me on the shoulder to move to a supervisory role, I turned the idea over in my head and answered with a firm “no.”

But colleagues and friends continued to urge me to assume a leadership position, and I became first a supervising teacher and then interim Principal for a School for the Blind. By that time, I was pretty sold on the idea that my many years in the trenches would give me a unique perspective compared to other leaders without that experience.

 In that role, I flourished. The staff I inherited was so in need of someone to listen to, acknowledge, and support their intentions to do what was best for the children they served that I became their best advocate. Together we moved the school forward and built a student population that received an education focused on their unique needs. I participated in a couple of book groups around leadership and developed a respectable group of mentors and colleagues. And then… I was tapped on the shoulder once again to lead another school and its related programs through the recession. During that time, I was able to focus on some of my own special interests: transition and employment.

Unfortunately, politics, personality, and bad timing led me to resign from that position. I sought work on the national level. The Vice President position I landed with a national non-profit allowed me to learn a new skillset in a completely different environment. Today, I am exploring a variety of consulting positions where I could apply my abilities as a researcher, content expert, and systems-thinker.

Why share my personal experiences in this blog? Because my own personal leadership journey is one example of how leaders move along in the very small, specific, and elite world of blindness and visual impairment and sometimes find themselves in a professional role that challenges their ideals, expertise, and skillset.

I remember a conversation someone who had left a position I was considering. “If you’re looking to climb the superintendent ladder,” he said, “this is not the one I would recommend.” I was stunned. There’s a superintendent ladder, I thought? Who knew? I’m just interested in filling a position where I can apply my experience as a TVI and COMS to address the challenges of school administration.

In fact, the position I was seeking involved moving from managing 50 FTEs and $10,000 in discretionary funds to a position where I would be in charge of 450 employees and a $40,000,000 budget. Whoosh. How did I think I could manage such a great leap? What the heck was I doing? Who would help me make this leap? I was fortunate to have great support from colleagues around me, but I eventually sought an executive coach to give me honest feedback and help develop my skills. s

So this is my point. If you are considering a new leadership position or looking to lead an organization that is bigger or more complex than the one you currently serve, PAY ATTENTION.

Ask yourself:

·      Are you up for the challenge this new position will present?

·      Is there a position that might be a better fit for you where you can learn new skills that will prepare you for a future leadership position?

·      How will you manage the energy level this new position requires? Are there resources you can call upon to help you meet the expectations of the job?

·      Whom might you seek out as a mentor or sounding board when you take on a position that is different or more challenging than your previous role?

·      What are you good at? Whom will you need to call on to complement your current skills, support areas where you are not as strong, and candidly offer feedback to help you to grow as a leader?

This third bullet point is perhaps the most important. Let’s say you have climbed the ladder quickly, skipping over positions that might have taught you new skills and otherwise left you with deficits in your leadership abilities. What can you do to assure your success in your new role? Finding a leadership coach or mentor who is by your side as you transition is critical to your success. You will need to be able to look critically at your role and recognize where your deficits and inexperience limit you. You will need to be reading and writing in order to continue building on your previous leadership experiences and seek honest feedback about how your efforts are perceived. You will need to have someone – or someones—to talk to about all of this.

Above all, recognize that you have room to grow, and work hard to develop your skills while you are carrying out the role. … and you will likely need help to achieve leadership excellence.

One way or another, you gotta pay your dues.

A Leadership Stone for the New Year: Consider

I had all but given up on my one-word mantra: “consider.” Considering new opportunities had transported me into situations that were exhilarating, tough, and full of learnings. It had moved me from Colorado to Arizona to Massachusetts to Kentucky. It was the word I held onto when my dream shattered or I fell short of my goal. It had expanded my life in ways I hadn’t imagined when I was first licensed as a teacher in 1982. I had even planned to have the word tattooed on my wrist, a reminder of its power in my life.

Over time, however, I began to grow weary of the transitions, the frustrations and even anguish of trying new things. I kept picking myself up, learning from my mistakes, reveling in what I had achieved because I had considered, but feeling more defeated than refueled. I made the decision to step down from leadership and find a new way

I was even glad I hadn’t gotten that tattoo—considering new opportunities and challenges had left me deflated and, it seemed, alone.

Then I saw something on Facebook from an acquaintance whose viewpoints often differ from my own. It was a cut-paste that made fun of political correctness and its extremes. It ended with a statement: “This is what this country has become.”

Instead of scrolling past and keeping my tongue, I responded with this:

“When someone points out an issue to you, consider it. Turn it over in your hand and see if it speaks truth to you. If it does, consider changes you might make. If it does not, set it aside and continue on your way.”

In the moment those words came to me, I realized I was not done with the mantra that had propelled me through life for so long. The wisdom it holds is as strong as ever--I have just applied it in a different way.

In 2020, I will continue to consider, and I hope you will too. Without the power of considering something that is initially foreign to us, women wouldn’t have the right to vote, slavery would not have been abolished, and my leadership journey would have been brief. I am grateful for all I have experienced simply by considering.

What's the big deal about efficiency?

I was walking around the campus of the school where I used to be principal, and I was struck by how drab it now looks. Sadly, this decline was already beginning when I left that position 10 years ago. During the time I was employed there, decisions were often made to increase efficiency or convenience, particularly in the most budget-lean years. A tree would die, and its spot would be cemented over. Planters filled with air-filtering plants were covered with wood and painted over because they required maintenance.

 Efficiency is usually about saving money, either to increase profit margins or fit necessary operations into a shrinking budget. Efficiency thinking is everywhere; we are encouraged to clean our homes in less time, order pre-made meals, whiten our teeth in 5 minutes a day.

 But efficiency as a goal can be misguided. What I’ve noticed is a tendency to complain and respond to an immediate financial situation, but not improve circumstances with an eye toward the future. Efficiency thinking is not imaginative, and it does not focus on long-term success. The tree example is a simple one: Planting a small native tree would cost under $100. It would not require watering after just a few months and would provide shade and aesthetic benefit for students and staff for years to come. Cement contributes to overall heat retention while adding nothing to the overall life of the campus. It is only “efficient” in the short term.

 Here’s an example that is larger-scale. In one organization, a decision was made to centralize marketing and communications services. Positions were plucked from other departments as seeds for the new department. Those affected by the loss of colleagues were very upset, and for their objections, they were labeled “resistant to change.” In a few months’ time, the new department set up an expensive ticket system for others in the organization to use to access their work. Staff in departments whose daily work depended on these services immediately experienced a lack of responsiveness from the new department—forcing them to turn to outside vendors to meet production deadlines. How is that efficient?

Centralization also meant that prioritization was established only through the new department’s eyes. Many members of the department were new to the organization, and their priority was placed on outward-facing projects rather than internal processes. Not only did they not fully understand the inner workings of the organization; they made no move to learn. Centralization, created in the name of efficiency, became a bottleneck for those in the trenches who needed to get their work done. 

Now don’t get me wrong. I believe in setting up processes that streamline our work and continuous improvement through data analysis and feedback. But once a more efficient process or methodology is implemented, it must be evaluated regularly to determine if the performance goals are met.

One of my recent reads was a book called The End of Average: How to Succeed in a World the Values Sameness, by Todd Rose. The book is filled with examples describing situations where our penchant for efficiency by using “averages” is actually harmful—even fatal, in one case covered in the book. For example, using data to derive averages to identify what is best for the average consumer, is an efficiency tool meant to cut costs and reduce time. But, as the book explains, these strategies do not lead to a better business or a better world.

How does all this lead to the formation of a leadership stone?

1.     Improving efficiency is not a goal but a tool to consider when looking at the bigger picture of what’s best.

If we make efficiency the goal, we can easily lose sight of the important work we are doing. Too many short-term solutions can deter our focus on long-term success.

2.     Looking for greater efficiency needs to parallel your organization’s mission, vision, and values.

Too often, we leave off talk of our organization’s guide stones in order to fix an immediate problem. Wouldn’t it be amazing if finding a solution to a problem were framed by the bigger picture? This kind of thinking will lead to more creative, sustainable solutions.

Efficiency has its place in any organization. Solutions that help us optimize existing skills and timelines are valuable. But if we lead with efficiency as the sole goal, we will miss opportunities for sustainable growth. Achieving balance between these opportunities will serve us best.

Managing Disappointment

I was working on a survey for TVIs and others working with students with visual impairment when I got that call: “The project has been cancelled.” The venture that I had birthed and that was so needed in our field was terminated. The conversation went a lot like these do: It was sugar-coated with explanations and language that skirted the truth. The justification was surrounded with work-place politics and misinformation. And none of it mattered. The project, a dream I held close to my heart, was over.

 I’m sure you can relate to this scenario… and if it hasn’t happened to you, it will. So the question is, what’s your best course of action when something completely out of your control happens that leaves you disappointed or worse, devastated? Not long after this particular instance, I started looking for the leadership stone that would potentially develop from this experience.

 I began looking back at my years as a teacher and administrator and found many instances where a supervisor or person in power has squelched a project, a dream, or an ambition. I’m a barrel-ahead kind of gal who, when she gets an idea, puts her heart and soul into it. In my first teaching position at a rural high school, I managed to take a school newspaper that was printed on the Xerox machine and, through a partnership with the local newspaper, published a periodical that was professionally printed. When I approached administration for monetary support of the project (early issues of the paper were printed pro-bono), I got a nice letter from the board congratulating me on my innovation… and a verbal reminder that there was no money to continue the project.

 Other examples: A proposal that would have implemented career-technology modules for students with visual impairment was turned down by the superintendent without remark. An incredible partnership with an organization that would have vastly increased employment opportunities for school of the blind alumni was canceled in-progress because my supervisor did not understand the details of financial support we had put in place. In both instances, I felt there was not sufficient understanding from the person in charge to make an educated decision about moving forward—and the decision-maker made no effort to gain that understanding.

 Those are great stories--but what is the leadership stone, you ask?

 Communication. The success or failure of implementing a dream often depends on effective communication. As I look back on the times when my ambitions were stalled or squelched entirely, I realize that both the timing and content of my communication were lacking.

Today, I am more careful about the way I communicate my professional dreams to those who have the power to “make or break” their success. I introduce ideas slowly, and I look for champions with similar ideals as I get my thoughts and plans together.

Once a plan is in place, we must communicate the specifics, including financial and human resource needs, timeline, goals and outcomes, to persons in positions of power. Consider how to best present your information to your particular audience: is the person a visual learner? Then provide charts and graphs. Is the person focused on financial issues? Then have your numbers ready. Think about how much detail is enough to communicate your project or dream. Remind the decision-maker of how the project benefits him or her, and the organization.

But the communication doesn’t stop once the project has been authorized. The project that inspired this blog? It died primarily because I did not consistently communicate with the stakeholders along the way. The decision to cancel that project was made based on limited and misinformation. When I look back, I realize I could have done a better job of sharing our progress and asking for their input.

What does one do with a dream or project that has been squelched or canceled? An important first step is to reflect. What went well? What could have gone better? Debriefing not only with your team but also with the person in power who has ended your project can help you gain valuable information you can apply now, and to future projects.  These discussions will help you manage your disappointment, and you will learn from them.

And finally, consider whether you should move your project forward in a different way. It may be that it will find a home in a place and a way you had not imagined. In fact, there are two leadership stones here: how to manage your disappointment when a project is cancelled, and how to better manage a project to ensure its longevity and success.