Teach Me to Lead

I now accept leadership as a legitimate art form. I don’t know how I felt earlier in my life. I probably accepted leadership for what it was and engaged in the lame, pedestrian leadership myself that I see so often in others now. Back then I didn’t understand the real reason for leaders. I think I thought leadership was more the enforcer/cop keeping vigil on naturally occurring events. I thought things would get done just fine without leaders keeping tabs on everything. I assumed that leaders were nothing more than watchdogs ensuring that there were no violations. I never accepted the notion that because the team lost too many games the coach should be fired. He never played. He didn’t lose. He didn’t drop any passes or jump off sides. I get it now.

I was wrong about leadership. Unfortunately, I was often in leadership positions so there are plenty of witnesses to my pathetic leadership skills.

Why? Did I have such crappy leaders and bosses early on that I didn’t grasp the true nature of great leadership? Or did I have such excellent leaders that their supremacy was seamless and undetectable? Many years ago when I learned that leaders can make or break something. I have seen inept leadership first-hand and heard of it second-hand and talked about it extensively third-hand.

On the other hand, because I have been both a good leader and an extremely poor one, I cannot in good conscience be critical of any leader. But I am anyway. Management styles differ vastly and effectiveness is often in the eye of the beholder – or the next manager up the poop chain. I tend, now, to manage as I like to be managed. I don’t really have any insight into great management. I guess that is why there are so many books on the subject – none of which agree with each other. I try to give direction and allow the ‘managed’ to control their own destiny. Sometimes I get into trouble because those who are managed need more direction. I don’t. I don’t like much direction. I invent. When I am given direction, it is often limiting, which is against what I should be about in my opinion.

I now stand in admiration of great leaders. I watch the tricks, tactics, and methods of leaders I see hoping to steal from them and incorporate some of their characteristics in my own leadership responsibilities.

A side note: my dad often brought home stray dogs to his house. His father would take them out the back door and behind the shed and 'teach them how to lead' which meant kill them. My dad never liked animals until much later in his life.

Teaming

Teams. It seems teams are a part of every facet of life. I have been on teams, coached teams, and been kicked off teams. The common thing about teams is that association with a team teaches a life lesson that is useful in many circumstances.

When I was young, I was on football teams, baseball teams, basketball teams, softball teams, track teams, etc. Although the term Track Team seems a little strange since track is an individual event. But now that I think about it, Tennis Teams, Swim Teams and other individual-like sports have a different definition of a team.

So, there are the kinds of teams that promote a sense of belonging to a larger organization, like the track team or, I suppose, being schizophrenic. These honor the individual effort but don’t rely on teamwork per se to accomplish their objective. Sure, one track team beats another by virtue of points accumulated, but let’s not split hairs. Teams like a football team or basketball team count on each other to be able to conquer opponents, douse each other with champagne and blame each other for extraneous misconduct. No team, no event, no rape.

Being old now, I coach teams more than I participate on teams. Sports teams, that is. I am on management teams and the like but they are usually called task forces, panels, or juries. I derive great joy from coaching my children on teams but I try to involve them on different teams for the experience. Caitie’s teams have been fun to coach and I have learned how to manipulate them so they gain a sense of teamwork and a subsequent desire to assist each other and do better because they feel they are a part of an entity they care about. I used to be suspect of leadership but have a whole new take on that topic – for another blog.

In college I was forced to assemble teams for group projects. This was particularly difficult because I was always the team captain and always did the bulk of the work. As my education progressed, I figured out that I was going to be put into teams in each of my upper-division classes. I was also fortunate to find another guy who was a leader and who worked/shouldered his share of the project load. He and I coordinated our schedules to have the same classes. We would purposefully sit on opposite sides of the room and ‘recruit’ team members. When it came time to assemble teams, the teacher would invariably leave the formulation of the teams up to the students. This was perfect for us. We knew we would be on the same team but would strike up casual interviews with the others in the class to see if there were others whom we deemed worthy to be on our team.

Our dialogues went something like this: “Oh, I hate teams. I always get stuck doing all the work…” (hoping for a ‘me too’) or “Do you know if this class is hard? My GPA needs a boost…” (hoping for a ‘none of these classes are hard’) or “If we pull an all-nighter, do you object to wearing see-thru pajamas?” (hoping for ‘that’s all I have and I don’t wear underware’) – the last one was for female candidates only.

We ended up assembling great teams that accomplished strong results because we recruited well. Was that cheating?

Extreme Optimism

OK, so I admit it, I'm an extreme optimist. I have been optimistic since I was a little tyke rolling down the driveway in Phoenix on my new bike that I didn't know how to ride yet and skinning my knees on the asphalt driveway. Oh, no, here comes a bifurcation – two blogs in one. Why was it OK for our parents to A) provide no visible means of protection for the little kamikaze bike riders, B) provide no medical assistance and little pharmaceutical assistance to our wounds, and C) HAVE AN ASPHALT DRIVEWAY WITH LOOSE GRAVEL TO CRASH ON AND IMBED INTO OUR WOUNDS IN THE FIRST PLACE? We had no knee pads, helmets, wrist guards, or other protective gear to help us bounce off the earth. And yet we survived. Strange, isn't it? It is perhaps this upbringing that contributed to my optimism. There, I knew it would be come back together.

I am afflicted by extreme optimism in so many ways. There are times when my optimism keeps me in the dark. There are times when my optimism gets me through tough times. But most of the time, optimism seems to be the way to most properly live my life. My wife says I am not realistic because I am optimistic. This seems misleading. The continuum is pessimism to optimism – not realism to optimism. I think optimism is a closer cousin to reality than pessimism because of three very important factors: optimists rule, pessimists suck and reality is conjured. No, really, the three things that I count on are 1) the goodness of people and their constant desire to continue to do the right thing regardless of their shortcomings, 2) events occur predictably for the most part, and 3) pessimists suck.

1) Carried to extremes, a pessimistic person would never drive on the freeway. Other drivers on the freeway may stop, or swerve, or try to cause trouble for the pessimistic driver who would constantly be on guard, stressed out, and pull over into the middle lane and creep along at 54 mph. I think this happens to old folks as they try with ever-increasing desperation to preserve their lives – either that or they don't trust their degenerated reflexes enough to avoid the driver who stops, swerves, or tries to cause trouble. Optimistic people travel the same freeway believing that all the other drivers will for the most part try not to crash into them, try to maintain the correct speed, and generally avoid trouble (or eye contact for that matter). Extreme optimists not only believe this but also look into every car thinking they for sure they will know someone and that person will want to have sex with them.

2) (The following example excludes many construction trades or the production of any software product) If I try to estimate the duration of a trip, the length of time to complete a project, or the time necessary to accomplish the tasks on my to-do list, I have to employ some sense of reason and logic and mix in some real time experience to prognosticate. Pessimistic folks plan extra time for a flat tire, a bomb scare in the store supplying materials to complete a project, or the inevitable multiplication of tasks on that to-do list. Pessimists will often remark that if they approach life in this negative frame of mind then they are never disappointed. That's too bad, because the majority of the time they aren't happy either. They constantly wait for the 'other shoe to drop' rather than enjoying the first shoe. And the saddest part is they wish everyone around them would join in their misery. Extreme optimists wish they had more on the to-do list to show just how much they can do – whether they can do it or not. The ability to achieve is irrelevant.

3) I am optimistic that I can change a pessimists mind. I can’t, but that doesn’t stop me from believing that I can. This is why pessimists suck. If they won’t bend to my constant, relentless optimism, then ‘rain on them.’

The other day, my brother-in-law Chris and I were in the basement cleaning and moving items up stairs when I began complaining about the fact that the giant hand-me-down TV would eventually have to make the trip down the stairs and try to turn the corner into the room. No room, no flexibility, and very heavy. So, in our discussion, Chris said, "…why don't you wrap the stairs around and open them up. You know the last 3 stairs don't have to have a banister…" He drew me a picture on the wall and I hastily agreed. He ran upstairs, grabbed his Skill saw and cut the end off the existing banister. Strangely enough, this began at 6:oopm and by midnight he and I (ok, mostly he) had the old stairs opened up and the new addition to wrap the stairs completed. At one point, during all the sweating and cutting, my sister pointed out, "…the problem is they are both optimists." She was right. We had no problem with this project. The timeline fit (Debi was coming home in 4 days) and the painter, carpet guy, and others had to be scheduled also. No problem. The thing is we did it. I did find out during the course of this that Chris is an extreme optimist like me. I explained my debilitating extreme optimism by telling them that each morning while in the shower, I wait for and wonder why my wife hasn't joined me. For 20 years I have had this thought EACH DAY with no reason to entertain such a thought! Chris confided that he has the same thoughts. His affliction is particularly acute since he gets up at 4:30am each day and still looks for these events to occur.

One more: Betsy and Trent visited one fine spring day and we decided to take the trailer out for a weekend campout. The place I selected was one that is great – except for two unanticipated drawbacks. One, mosquitoes. Two, getting down the ravine into the riverbed consisted of driving on roads not suitable for, um, trailers. So, I dragged the trailer to the edge and my extreme optimism kicked in. I was sure that I could make it down. Well, we did make it down, but we dragged the bottom of the trailer so badly that it tore off the plumbing (so no pooping) and bent up the bumper so badly that we couldn't get the back door open (so no quadding). I admit, in this instance, my extreme optimism cost me money. I could not, however, shut it off. I am currently looking for a 12 step program that helps me cope with over-happiness.

Grin Grimace Stoop Hunch

Grin Grimace Stoop Hunch
I’ve been noticing lately a strange set of human behaviors that are not usually called to consciousness. However, everyone knows about these. There are two sets of idiosyncratic behaviors that are not so idiosyncratic. Common idiosyncrasies. Who’s the oxy and who’s the moron now, huh?
The first one is the half-grin. This is used in social behavior when two individuals meet who really don’t know each other. There could be some familiarity between them, or they could be in a social situation that commonly demands a smile – and reciprocal smile between the two parties. However, the smile, being a little too familiar, does not quite fit. So, and you can try this at home, the half-smile is employed. This is done by using some, but not all of the smiling muscles in your face. Employ mostly the muscles immediately adjacent your mouth without using the higher cheek “…turn it upside down and smile that frown away” muscles. Want extra style points? Purse the lips a bit too, in a knowing fashion – poised and ready to say hello to the stranger should they break the half-grin barrier.
It seems that committing the whole face to a real smile is somewhat too personal or not worth the effort but not smiling at all shows gives off a stoic chill akin to the look I get from my wife after a good fart joke. So, instead of just looking ahead, or looking away (preferred, but not an option if you have been spotted looking directly at somebody as if you were going to have to pick them out of a line-up later) you just glance, give them the halfer, and move on. Not an issue. I am amazed how often I see this. I get it most at fast food restaurants – except In-N-Out where full-face smiles are handed out like Clinton pardons.
The second is the hunch. This is the act of walking in front of something, somebody, or a group of somebodys and stooping over slightly in Cro-Magnon form to avoid being seen, blocking view, or disrupting an event.
I see this one in several places. Church – when somebody comes in late (even in the back, strangely enough) they will walk in hunched over slightly. Movies – see the guy that got here late? So does everyone else even though he is walking as if his spine has suddenly given way. Conversations – when two people are talking in a hallway and somebody has to pass between them, there is usually a hunker involved. This move is usually accompanied by a streamline body turn so as to avoid getting too close to the conversators. This makes no sense to me but somehow it excuses them even if they don’t say it. The fact that their body posture demonstrates an inferior position allows the hallway conversation to continue uninterrupted.
Poop. See?