A group of sheep led by a tiger can defeat a group of tigers led by a sheep. ~ Amit Kalantri, Wealth of Words
Do you recall how many managers you’ve had? If you’ve been in the workforce for more than a decade, you may have lost count. I have had my fair share, and I have harvested lessons from each and every one. From my first insurance boss, “You can’t remember everything; just know where to find the answer.” From another, “You can tell stories and you can name names, but you can’t tell stories and name names.” Yet another, “Ask for forgiveness, not permission.” Oh, wait, that was a co-worker. Back to those who directed my path.
After multiple decades in the workforce, I do have life-altering scars from a few bad eggs, of course. A notable example was an egotistical, manipulative liar (alright, maybe there were two of those), others who meant well, but were ineffective, and a few who were just stretched too far with too many responsibilities to be able to build their managerial muscles. I learned from all of the aforementioned, but the predominant type of edification from that selection was in the what-not-to-do sphere. We can all garner lessons in that arena.
As I want to avoid any obvious [negative] identifications here, I’ll focus on four managers who impacted my thinking, and perhaps my working habits, by their examples. Before I begin, let me be clear that each had flaws; every human does. That said, my overall impressions of their management styles were positive, or they wouldn’t have made the cut. Not for the small flock described below, that is.
The most recent of the four was enthusiastic—a theater major, as I recall—entertaining, creative and attentive to his staff. He had a wide variety of training types to herd, all of us with idiosyncrasies that weren’t necessarily a perfect fit for conducting classes. I don’t know how he guided others, but he encouraged me to be more animated. [You mean I have to move something besides my mouth?] Even though I knew body language was a critical component of communication, I wasn’t using my whole self effectively. A few years later when I was training less frequently and creating content more, he provided instruction that strengthened my design skills.
Many years before that, another manager sometimes drove me to the edge by ignoring a team member’s tardiness, or another’s lack of attention to detail or even resistance to answering agents’ calls on the first ring. I wasn’t perceptive enough to grasp at the time that while others were occasionally lobbing irritants, I had a set of my own annoying mannerisms. Most of them were eventually addressed by my usually calm and thoughtful manager, but it was not his way to raise issues with any degree of frequency. I had plenty of time to stew on his minimalistic delivery style and think about my opportunities to improve. Yes, the latter is a bit tongue-in-cheek. Anyway, it was all done without fanfare. Our team was large and diverse and ran like a well-oiled machine. Clearly, his methods worked.
And yet another manager, before I moved to the big city, was the owner of an independent insurance agency with multiple locations. When he promoted me from Customer Service Representative to office manager, he also handed me responsibilities well beyond my experience. He had confidence that I would eventually rise to the occasion. Our weekly managers’ meetings challenged me to figure out how to resolve the hiccups of the small office and effectively communicate issues and solutions to his team. His management style provided ways to encourage professional growth and he consistently communicated with his employees with respect. He always spoke to all of us as equals.
The last, Mr. Henry Wooten, is the only one I shall name. He was the principal of our junior high school when I was a teacher’s aid, and he had also been the principal when I attended that same school. Mr. Wooten had dozens of good qualities, but legible handwriting was not among those. One day when I caught him sitting at his secretary’s desk, I quipped, “I hope your typing is better than your writing.” He just looked at me, deadpan, and said, “You must be mighty sure of yourself.” He had an excellent sense of humor, but I wasn’t able to read him on that occasion, so I skedaddled. Lessons from him? Too many to enumerate, but he was able to communicate urgency without raising his voice, ever. He had more than 300 teenagers charged to his care; there were plenty of reasons to raise the volume every day. Mr. Wooten never took himself too seriously and sometimes entertained the staff with stories relating to his own oversights.
Skinnied down, the learnings were to use all the tools provided, whatever the job; offer instruction sparingly, unless asked, with few words, and always remember that my value is no more and no less than anyone else. You can find additional direction by doing a simple internet search, but here’s one with some good ideas: 11 Lessons from Bosses.
If I am wise, I’ll apply all the lessons above plus others I’d bet I can learn from a few of my friends. Could be some of them have work memories buried so deep they can’t dig them up, but I’m thinking those experiences could help someone else.
You?
