Leaders Live Up to Their Own Standards

It’s a story of politics at work …

Blindedsided by a Romulan Warbird

It was a Friday afternoon in a past life, as they say. I was working late when Dina stopped by. Dina managed a new editor, Marilyn, who also worked on one of my projects. We often conferred on Marilyn’s progress. I thought Dina had come in to add something to our discussion.

As a social person, Dina was part of a catty little clique that had opinions on everything. I avoided both the group and their opinions when I could.

Dina smiled sweetly as she came into my office, sat herself down, and offered some minor pleasantries — always her style. Then she dropped her cloaking device and hit me head-on like a Romulan Warbird.

“We’ve been talking about you, and we’ve decided that we don’t like you talking about people when they’re not in the room, . . . in particular, we don’t like you talking about Marilyn.” She proceeded to use a good twenty minutes describing everything that was wrong with me as a person, which included a sidebar on why no person on the planet could possibly stand to work with me. I should have seen it coming when I heard that lovely phrase, “It’s probably none of our business, but . . .”

I lived the word stunned.

As I sat facing rapid fire, I literally had to restart my brain to process the information. My thinking kept looping around the same question in amazement. Did she hear what she had just said? It was a full-out admission that she had been doing exactly what she was shooting me for. In my neighborhood that wasn’t fair. Add to that the fact that she was the only one with whom I had discussed Marilyn.

My brain was misfiring. The opening narration from The Outer Limits was being read by Rod Serling as Salvadore Dali painted the scene in my office somewhere in the far reaches of my mind.

This female sitting across from me was an editor and a manager. What had she done with the facts? The only plausible answer was: she had no use for the facts. Dina had been passive-aggressive since I’d arrived at the company. She thought that my job should have been hers. So I don’t suppose that she was predisposed to caring about the facts. I let her say her piece. It was brutal. I went home.

My natural response is to fix things. I looked for ways to resolve this. Every solution that presented itself had me giving up ground. I didn’t want her friendship, but I didn’t need to be bullied again either. It was a miserable weekend. It took self-respect to go to work that Monday.

Had I been wiser then, I wouldn’t have wasted a weekend trying to fix the un-fixable. I know now that even if I’d saved Warbird’s life, I’d be that awful person who’d somehow done a good thing. That’s how those things work.

Every now and then I hear about Warbird and occasionally bump into her at conferences. I always stop to talk. She always seems nervous. I like to think that I’ve changed. Maybe she will too. Then again, maybe she won’t. She’s still at the old company — in the same job she got when I left.

Me? I’m long gone from there.

How did I get to be someone who worked with people like that?

I had changed myself to fit into the transportation that took me to the buildings where I worked in the jobs that I got because I mastered the right skill sets. Often I was bored and didn’t feel successful. I was managing not leading. I didn’t know it, but I was working for a paycheck or working just to work.

Some days I asked myself, “Am I good enough to be here?” and “What am I supposed to do next? Will I be on the bus that’s going from good to greatness?” I was on a path — the one laid out before me — but I had totally lost track of myself

Once I even said yes when the right answer was no.

Now I see that I’m not the only one who has done that…

Yet leaders don’t ride a bus to get from good to great. They walk their own path.

The more Ghandi, Oprah, Mandela, Catherine the Great, Bill Gates, Melissa Mayers, and Steve Jobs came to know themselves, the better leaders they became. They lived and lived up to their own standard of greatness.

True leaders do their own thinking; they know who they are and know that their true north comes from the inside. They own their values, skills, and experience. They are moved by a burning desire to build what they can’t build alone. That burning desire is what defines their path.

It’s not whether you’re an entrepreneur or working in a warehouse that makes you a leader. It’s whether we own our values and our path. Then we can contribute deeply and clearly to any business we choose to make part of our lives.

We become a leader the day we decide who we are, where we’re going, and how we’ll get ourselves there.
Who’d want to follow you if you haven’t done that?

What have you decided about yourself and your own true north?

Be irresistible.

–ME “Liz” Strauss
Work with Liz on your business!!