It takes more than cupcakes.
There are all sorts of creative things we can offer on Employee Appreciation Day to say “I see you.” And certainly, a hand written note and chocolate lava cupcake is a nice gesture.
But as leaders if we want to show our people meaningful support we have to see *and address* the many life complexities they carry. It means creating, documenting and executing policies and benefits that are transparent and consistent to truly prioritize their wellness, success and fulfillment as a person.
Here are 10 ways we show support for people in our benefits:
1) Paid parental leave for all mothers, fathers, guardians, foster and adoptive parents. It's 2023- this is non negotiable.
2) Paid bereavement leave for miscarriage. No process, no proof, no paperwork. Just support.
3) Infants at Work Policy: The choice for parents/caregivers to bring their baby to work (after paid leave) w/ them for continued bonding and support.
4) Caregiver Leave: 4 weeks of additional paid leave for the acute physical or mental care of a loved one or one’s self, an important safety net for those unpredictable and often debilitating situations that arise in life.
5) All employees are eligible for paid leaves immediately- no arbitrary duration is needed to receive the benefits we deem valuable to systematically remove inequalities in the workplace.
6) Flexible work options with an emphasis on individual employee preference for telecommuting and hybrid work arrangements.
7) Generous paid time off. The average first year employee receives 54 organizational paid days off (yes, 54), not counting the additional paid leave policies mentioned above.
8) A commitment to competitive and fair compensation: annual increases in all job grade minimums, and a 3rd party salary audit every 3 years.
9) Work accommodations: from overall workplace flexibility, to short term accommodations (like the impact of the childcare shortage/ waitlists) when life brings unexpected speed bumps we have documented processes in place to work with each employee on the needs they have for flexibility and changes to their roles, hours, or location.
10) A dedicated process and pipeline for the advancement of internal applicants. In past three years, 83% of our Director level and above openings have been filled internally.
These are just some of the ways we work hard to ensure our employees feel seen and valued, and organizationally we continue to experience the benefit of amazing employee engagement and retention. We’re an organization with approximately 60 full time employees and the very real budget constraints of a non profit. We choose to passionately support our team in this way and acknowledge not every policy we have works in every organization. We hope sharing our ideas can inspire and move the needle on the overall wellness of people at work.
#employeeappreciation #hr #benefits #wellnessatwork #innovation #genderequality #retentionstrategies #success
Liminal Space
Goodness, the universe delivered this weekend.
There was live music and laughter, friendship, wisdom, genuine conversation, sunsets and of course, this unreal mild October weather with perhaps the most colorful autumn foliage I can recall in recent history. So much that filled me with joy and gratitude.
Last week I wrote about life hardship. I don’t regret my words, because they were real and raw, and I think transparency is a gift, to both give and receive.
But it also was received as heavy by some. So today I give you the evolution of my words: from crisis to transition.
Really, I, like many, am in a liminal space, a relatively obscure Latin phrase thrust upon us in 2020 like a... well, a pandemic. It’s literally the space between what “was” and what is “next.” A life threshold of sorts.
Richard Rohr explains further … “A liminal space is when you have left the tried and true, but have not yet been able to replace it with anything else. It is when you are between your old comfort zone and any possible new answer. If you are not trained in how to hold anxiety, how to live with ambiguity, how to entrust and wait, you will run…anything to flee this terrible cloud of unknowing.”
This space feels uncomfortable, my purpose and identity were firm in my past. While losing any structure or comfort can cause immense grief, it’s also a place of genuine newness, untapped opportunity. The time between time can feel paralyzing in a world like mine that’s very unused to it.
But I’m still good too. I’m still me, still resilient. I’m challenging myself to embrace the unknown, the lessons, the dreams. Rest assured, I’m taking the liminal space for what it is, an opportunity to really notice the autumn colors and sandy toes right in front of me. It’s not all peachy everyday, no. But it’s untapped, an invitation to discover. I find few things more encouraging than that.
The DNA of Culture
Your culture is what your people say it is. Period. Aspirational posters and statements don’t change the DNA of the lived experience.
Each year the final question in our anonymous employee survey is “use three words to describe the culture at GSGI.” There are no prompts or drop downs to pick from. Any three words.
We take all of the final words, create a representative word cloud and distribute and display it across our organization and beyond. No words are edited or deleted. We evaluate and acknowledge exactly who we are today as an organization.
If there’s ever a word listed I don’t like, it’s my job to change the culture, not delete the evidence.
The Leadership Dial
Ahhh the recipe for ideal leadership… here’s one proposed breakdown, do you agree? Would you add or change anything? No question integrity and empathy are at LEAST 50%, never more evident than during this pandemic and economic crisis. How we treat others and staying true to integrity in difficult decision making will mark our personal and organizational brands for years to come.
I’d increase self awareness and add a spot for innovation/risk taking. Leaders are able to activate incredible innovation when they’re supported by trusted teams and boards. It also requires confidence or self esteem, embracing the reality of some duds along the way. There’s no place for ego in the leadership dial and the antidote is self esteem.
Ironically I’d reduce “praise team” or replace it with “show love.” Praise assumes my love is received best with praise. In reality it’s the leader’s job to understand the emotional needs of their teams, their “love languages” and words of affirmation are only one possibility!
Show Love
The past 8 weeks have been among some of the most uncertain in my lifetime. At times I’m filled with profound grief, other times deep gratitude.
And yet, the response to this crisis has been extraordinary for what it has revealed of us as people, reminding us to embrace our deeply-felt wish to be connected with one another and to Show Love.
Girl Scouts in Greater Iowa and beyond have sparked hope and shown love to others. Girls have come together and sewn masks, provided cookies and supplies for essential workers, shown grace and embraced wholly what it means to make the world a better place. It’s nothing short of remarkable.
The role of connector is one we're privileged to play in their lives– which is why we’re taking time to Show Love to you, our Girl Scouts of Greater Iowa members and community, by offering the gift of membership. For you, our volunteers, girls, moms, dads, and families.
Our hope is that you’ll allow GSGI to make the $25 purchase on your behalf if it alleviates any general anxiety, uncertainty, or financial stress you or your girls may be facing. We’re in this together.
Stay safe, be kind, show love. -Beth
www.girlscoutsiowa.org
The people who shaped us
Thank you Simpson College & Simpson College Softball for the opportunity to keynote the 2020 Diamond Dinner! It was so awesome to get to tell the story of the college coach who took a chance on a one-handed tennis player and have him in the audience 24 years later! Love you coach Bob Nutgrass, thank you for believing in me!
It was fun to reminisce and bask in the glory of breaking the school record our senior year!
https://www.simpsonathletics.com/sports/sball/2019-20/releases/20200217pj6tvw
Women Lead Change Global
Goodness, my bucket is so full this week. Not only did I have the incredible opportunity to Keynote the Women Lead Change Global conference and share stories and data about the impact of supporting people at work, but I also got to witness four amazing Girl Scouts go on stage and read the 19th amendment celebrating the hundredth anniversary of women’s suffrage!
It was topped off with incredible networking, and learning from NY Times best selling author, Cy Wakeman. She was everything I hope for in a presenter: real, funny, direct, practical and so relate able! Of course, I bought her book, can’t wait to dive in!
I’m usually traveling alone in unexplored cities and places but here I had some team members in the crowd as well, I felt their love & support. 💚💚💚💚💚💚
When Life Gives You Lemons
I appreciated the opportunity extended by the team at John Deere for inviting me to present at their REACH speaker series! I enjoyed exploring and presenting an entirely new topic, “When life gives you lemons... make Lemonades.” We explored the difficult part of change, how to embrace some element of control, and how we often learn the most about ourselves in these challenging chapters.
*🍋 For the record, I DID bring Lemonades cookies! I am a Girl Scout, after all!
Assume Good Intent: a dash of short-sighted leadership advice
“Let’s all assume good intent,” words managers in cubicles across the world, and I myself, have uttered many times. There’s an implied tone of being cordial; open minded.
Yet here I am, saying let’s all just drop the “good intent” talk once and for all.
So what gives? We’re supposed to be callous, suspicious managers, on constant lookout for the next shortcomings of our teammates?
You have reason to be wary. Like you, I see the opposite of the “good intent” as “poor intent.” And if I thought I was reading an article on suspicion-based leadership, I’d close that browser window faster than a Cyber Monday pop up ad.
But what if there’s a third option?
Before we explore that path, let’s get vulnerable…
Physical capability and my pride in it are part of my very DNA. In my 40 years on this earth I have never asked a stranger for help with a physical task.
Also, I only have one hand. The entire planet is built for humans who are batting 1.000 in the appendage category and I’m coming in just shy, right at .750. Not a bad batting average if you're Sammy Sosa, not stellar if you want to be a saxophonist (which I once hoped to be, but that's a story for another time)
One of the practical ways this affects my life is eating dinner in a strange city. As a former 3-time collegiate MVP, you might be able to imagine the reality that I can’t use a pepper grinder in a public restaurant is a hard pill to swallow. A very hard, very bland pill.
Last week I was in a new city, the city of brotherly love, the city of incredible food, the city of impossibly inaccessible pepper grinders, Philadelphia.
A local waitress sold me on Philly Cheesesteak poutine fries; steak, gravy, cheese curds, oh my. Y'all. My persnickety gallbladder and I fell hard and fast for these fries.
But… they needed pepper. Not only that, but the salt was in a grinder. And they needed salt too!
I’ve been working on this hard stuff. What does it mean to be vulnerable, to ask for help? What does it say about me as a human being if I don’t have the physical capability to pepper my own cheesesteak in public? (Gasp!)
It doesn’t mean anything, right? My value, skills, experience, attributes and heart don’t change based on someone’s perception of me.
Right? (*nervous laughter)
For the first time in *40 years* you guys, I was embracing a different path from pepper grinder purgatory. This was a big, no, a HUGE, moment.
My heart was beating out of my chest. I hated the feeling of helplessness. I worked up the courage. I took a breath. I discreetly asked the waitress if she could please help me use the salt and pepper grinders. She glanced at me and said she’d be right back. I thought perhaps she would need to empty the dishes from her hands. Makes sense, tasks like this take dexterity. (I should know) Several minutes went by.
6 minutes later she returned, with a NEW SET of salt and pepper grinders!!!? She sort of glanced and stuttered, “these should work” dropping them on the table and walking away.
Wait, what!? I need the contents lady! THE ACTUAL CONTENTS!
Now I’ve got FOUR grinders staring at me, naked fries and the cold naked truth that the satisfaction of my taste buds will always be helplessly outsourced to the hospitality industry. Annnnnd this is why vulnerability and French fries in a strange land are so hard.
I shared this story with some friends and MY GOSH were they frustrated. Their emotions ranged from disbelief and sadness to judgement and even rage. How DARE she not help me?
Nothing solves real-life issues like fancy internet quotes, so this feels like a good time to smack our traditional management mantra: “assume good intent” onto this issue.
I asked my friend, what if we gave the waitress the benefit of the doubt? Could we assume she was tired, embarrassed, busy, or distracted to create a more palatable narrative of the outcome? (pun intended) If we're being cynical, we might assume she was cruel, incapable, short-sighted or lazy?
Here's where I landed: what if I said her intent doesn’t matter to me? At all. The third option is that we focus on goals and the steps to achieve them, and not let our own emotion-based interpretations of experiences override the indisputable facts.
Look, no doubt, this is a complicated analogy because the goal here is "squishy." It’s easy to assume the goal is a fine dusting of cracked pepper. That’s the easy answer. I want that to be the answer too.
But the goal was about me embracing vulnerability and acceptance of who I am, not because of or in spite of my physical ability, but regardless of my ability. After 40 years, I asked for help. What was mine to own? Do I get to control how a waitress feels about me and does her perception matter? No amount of salt or pepper or help or not help or empathy or oblivion changes the stuff that is mine to own. As for me and my part, we soared.
What in the world does this have to do with management? I’m so glad you asked.
As managers we own so many things; performance, vision, culture, etc. If I prioritize servant leadership and innovation, I own that, not because of or in spite of external factors. I embody the goals, the process and the outcomes that relate to servant leadership and innovation, regardless of the intent or interpretation of others.
Let’s say Tom is my employee. His job is to increase customer retention via various meetings, emails and phone calls, then record his touch points in our company database. Tom is well-liked by customers but not skilled at data entry and reporting. How do I make a process to address this?
1. Goal: Tom submits accurate and timely reporting by noon every Friday.
2. Clarity: Open communication with Tom.
“We value your exceptional contributions with customers Tom. It’s clear they appreciate your attentiveness and warmth. Your weekly data reports contribute to year over year reporting and forecasting in an important way for the organization. This reporting deadline is an important expectation for our team success. What hurdles can I address that are keeping you from submitting your weekly data reports on time?”
3. Outcomes. Tom doesn’t meet the reporting deadline three of the four Fridays of the month.
If we “assume good intent” we say, “Tom is trying really hard. Customers do seem to like him. Also, I know he’s been busy planning the regional conference and that’s probably contributing to his neglect of deadlines.”
That might be true. But it’s also true that my projection and interpretation make me a notoriously unreliable source. (German philosopher Immanuel Kant brilliantly outlines the Categorical Imperative vs Hypothetical Imperative, saving us all the time and energy of debating our unreliability, let’s agree he’s right and move on) I want to like Tom and believe in Tom! What if we knew Tom was coming in late because he simply liked to sleep in, if he neglected Friday data deadlines because he didn’t find reporting very rewarding and his lack of contribution on the regional conference team was minimal and causing undo burden for the other members of the conference committee? Assuming any intent to Tom (whether positive or negative) is short sighted and makes us blind to decisions that align with our goals.
My goal is to be an empathetic, visionary, servant leader. Tom’s intent is not connected to what I own, no more than the waitress was connected to my worth as a person. It's the process of removing another's intent entirely that allows us to truly nurture our authentic leadership presence. My optimal course it so use data to guide my decision making regarding Tom’s performance.
If we’ve established clear goals and had open communication regarding Tom’s ability to meet those goals, there are only three possible outcomes:
1. Tom is capable of meeting the deadlines but is choosing not to.
2. Tom may be capable of meeting the deadlines, but we need to circle back to the communication step to better understand his skills or resource gaps that are keeping him from meeting the goals (does he needs more time or training?)
3. Tom may not be capable of meeting the deadlines. His skills may align with only portions of his job. I can continue with performance management in his role, a termination of his role, or a reassessment of our goals for Tom and his role.
Love and servant leadership do not have an inverse relationship with data-based decision making, rather they work in tandem. Performance subjectivity need not play a role in being a productive, empathetic leader. I am at my best as a leader and human being when I am clear about what I own and don’t project my “stuff” onto people, good, bad or otherwise.
If I can love myself enough to accept pepper grinder support, I can love my people enough to give them fair, clear processes for success that aren’t at the mercy of my very human, unreliable interpretation of the world.
Dessert First: 4 Slices of Wisdom To Transform Workplace Engagement
Creating a positive organizational culture is akin to devouring homemade pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving. That is, at our house, it’s not an afterthought to be enjoyed only “if there’s room.” No. You build it into the plan, priorities are established: pie first, then turkey, potatoes, stuffing, in that order. Likewise, engagement before results. It’s a winning recipe.
First, some context. Just four years ago our organization was struggling and there was a direct correlation to workplace satisfaction and performance output. Only 19% of our workforce identified as being satisfied with the workplace culture and nearly 40% of our staff turned over annually. In tandem, nearly every key performance indicator was on a multi-year decline.
Today, 97% of our workplace identifies as "being inspired to do my best for the organization everyday," 94% agree with "having the ability to prioritize my personal priorities with my workload" (the dreaded work/life balance conundrum) and employee satisfaction scores soared from 19% to 89%. Talent retention and acquisition are the healthiest they've ever been, with an annual turnover rate of just 8% today.
Subsequently, every single performance metric is soaring, breaking records in growth, sales, retention and revenue. There’s something remarkable about a team with spark. Passion and positivity are contagious and you can’t stop them from improving your results.
Culture is a funny thing though. The results aren’t always obvious and instant, like flipping a light switch. It takes commitment and consistency. Gradually, like a slow dawn, things get brighter until light starts to permeate even the darkest shadows.
The list of the initiatives, ideas and people that turned our culture around is extensive. Here are four critical pieces of the pie that shaped our transformation.
Communication
First, we received communication. As the CEO, I invested time to meet one on one with every employee and board member. I asked questions about what could make this their dream job, and who they identified as the top performers. I took notes on what they’d tackle first if they woke up to find they were the CEO tomorrow. It takes extraordinary effort to put aside all defenses and simply listen to authentic ideas and input. Any form of blaming, retaliating, or making excuses renders this step ineffective. Without question it helped that I was new to the organization, these weren't my plans and processes so thoughtfully created and executed. I sat on the edge of my seat, intently listening, pen on paper and said, "you're not calling my baby ugly here, let's hear it" and began writing. Our people had many of the answers, we simply needed to give them a voice.
We also gave communication, authentic communication. It was a gift we had been withholding, creating distrust and disengagement. We became transparent with staff. When we made hard decisions, we gave the sometimes painful background. We gave organizational updates when things were great, and also when times were lean. We brought the entire team into the fold, for both the joys and the sorrows.
With genuine listening and open sharing, we utilized the skills and passions of the entire team and invited them to be part of organizational solutions. Even when solutions were stubborn, the team remained engaged in their work, trusting the process.
At every turn we invited every team member to help us build our future. We not only invited them, we incentivized them. We created "Game-Changing Grants," funds for proof-of-concept scalable ideas. We rewarded those who diligently pursued a better path and had faith the outcomes would eventually follow.
Caring For People
Step two was acting on what we had learned, and it took a leap of faith. We overhauled the entire organizational chart, aligning positions with skills, goals, and a structure of servant leadership. It literally represented a bottom up approach, with CEO as the “bottom rung” in the organization, lifting and elevating the next team, and so on.
A critical part of caring for our people was updating our benefits and policies to reflect what was best for the people, not the organization. Let me position this by saying, this was not easy. But I echo what I often ask my children as they face difficult decisions, "is it the easy thing to do or the right thing to do?" We have limited space, limited resources and everything we did was on a shoestring budget (often, no budget).
We added 12 weeks of Paid Parental Leave (for all mothers, fathers and guardians), we implemented Infants at Work, we added 5 days of paid bereavement leave for miscarriage, and created 4 weeks of Paid Caregiver Leave allowing employees to provide the acute physical or mental care of a loved one in need (without burning through their PTO). We wanted our benefits to say, "life can be complicated and sad and hard, but we see you, and we have your back." We added paid time off to volunteer in the community, transitioned some employees to remote/home-based workers, and created a casual dress code. Trust and autonomy became our love language. A group of team-leads came in after hours with bright paint and vinyl letters, working late into the night so that when Monday morning came, the staff on that floor was greeted with “Awesomeness Happens Here.” And by that point, they were all starting to believe it.
Connecting With Purpose
As an organization with struggling performance metrics, the work had become rigid. Performance pressure had led to more meetings and more data: report, review, require. Wash, rinse, repeat. It was easy to forget that real people were involved. So, we began our weekly executive meetings with “Brag and Tag,” an opportunity for each team member to celebrate a personal accomplishment and share one that they’d witnessed from another staff member. The 10 minute investment we made each week helped us connect on a level beyond spreadsheets.
We carved out time to hand write notes to staff and began thinking outside the box on celebrations: office chair relays, a chopped challenge, decorating Valentine boxes and Take your Parent to Work Day, just to name a few memorable activities from the past year.
Most importantly, we flattened our attitudes alongside our org chart and made leading by example priority number one. No team member was asked to do something an executive member wasn’t willing to do- myself included.
With team members across six physical locations over portions of three states, it became a priority to bring the entire team together three times per year with a focus on growth, passion and connecting. We’ve played games, zip-lined and completed service projects. From silly-stringing the CEO for hitting a staff-wide goal, to kicking off the gathering with a parody R&B song utilizing lyrics representing our organization, we embraced things that make people smile and showed that we’re in this together…not just work, but life.
I was born with just one hand. Usually it has no effect on my physical capabilities, occasionally it does. As the CEO, I climbed into a harness and made my way to the top of a 40 foot pole, where 14 dangling, extreme obstacles hung between me and the finish line, a zip-line to the ground. I was shaking, near tears, saying "I can't do this." I was showing my team my vulnerability- not just the things I'm great at, but the things I'm really afraid of, cracking the veneer. (FYI, they cheered me on and I made it to the end)
Let me be clear, zip-lining with employees isn't the magic answer- but when connection and authenticity are at the heart of the activity, it transforms relationships.
Credibility
We made learning about leadership and acting like leaders a priority. We read several books as an executive team and implemented key strategies. We increased our professional development budget dramatically. We developed ways to measure performance so we could provide clarity and resources for staff. Personnel and policy changes were made to align with our goals and culture. We made some tough financial decisions that were emotional but needed. We transitioned some responsibilities into a Talent Development role to raise the bar for our whole staff and recognize the skills they had to offer. As the CEO, I took on portions of front line work to better understand the challenges. When executive positions opened, we promoted internal candidates who had showcased their talent and commitment to our positive culture.
Incremental Improvement is My Love Language...
I spoke at an incredible event last week and got real about how awards and recognition don’t fill my bucket (anymore… boy did they used to) But I remain ambitious and driven- quite so. So what’s fueling the engine?
Change.
Seeing impact unfold in real time. Nothing fills my bucket more than the incremental improvement of supporting people, in my workplace and beyond. I was presenting on benefits innovation and transformational results this week and an attendee said to me immediately afterwards, “this is so compelling, I’m going to call our staff member who just had a baby and increase her benefits, thanks for calling us out.” I appreciated the opportunity to share insight and passion at both the Women Lead Change Global conference and the Society of Human Resources Managers state of Iowa conference.
Who’s job is it to change the world if not the leaders of organizations? Get some skin in the game and support people.
FOCUS
I have an abundance of focus. So much so that it flows out of me like the surgical precision of a laser; intense and precise. It slices through projects, it’s visionary and sometimes gives me “project x-ray vision” to see through barriers and create innovative solutions. It’s a superpower, there’s no question of that.
This focus has contributed to nearly every achievement I’ve had in my life. Laser-focused commitment to the repetition of practicing free throws, hitting thousands of tennis balls to invisible opponents on empty courts, writing thousands of words on projects, speeches and articles.
The seeds of my ideas spontaneously combust into action. There’s a fire that ignites them, fuels them. It’s hard to take credit for this energy, it’s just there, in my brain, always buzzing.
It’s not a deficit. It’s directional. We don’t describe lasers as lacking. We find tremendous value in their precision and we embrace so many ways to utilize them to change the world.
But imagine if we tried to use a pinpoint laser to turn a kettle of kernels into popcorn. Failure would be certain. One kernel would experience beautiful, bursting, popping success, but hundreds of others would sit stagnant in their cold, hard shells. We call them, “duds.”
For all the value of my superpower, I have left a lot of duds in my wake. When the direction of my attention isn’t on a task it becomes a cold, hard dud. The direction of my attention can zig and zag, it can even be forced to go a certain direction, with time and intention. But it does not, will not, evenly disperse or go multiple directions at once. What I can only describe as “neuro-cobwebs” creep into my brain when it’s asked to function in a different way. I can physically feel the fog creep into my effectiveness.
My ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) diagnosis in 2019 at age 40 felt so natural, so obvious. And it has ultimately been so helpful. I’ve been private, shying away from the “label.” The word “deficit” doesn’t resonate with me, and frankly, doesn’t sound overly flattering. The freedom of understanding the neuroscience that makes my brain different has given me the ability to seek tools and embrace where I shine as a leader and supplement where I don’t. Like the advice I freely give to others, I decided if I didn’t like the way something was going, I needed to get into the action to change it. Sometimes we describe getting involved as giving our “blood, sweat and tears.” I find it easy to give my time and physical exertion to important projects. What I find much more difficult is to crack the veneer of my ego and reputation. Let’s face it, wearing a badge that says “deficit” is a pretty big start. Call it what you want. My perspective has shifted to welcome the tremendous value of my directional attention.
*I received my diagnosis after multiple visits to multiple practitioners, including a half-day with a Neuropsychologist and hours of tests. My experience with ADHD and the sensation of having a superpower is not every person’s experience with ADHD. I have a list of what I wish people knew, but invite you to ask others what their wish list looks like.
1) I wish you wouldn’t patronize me with your assumptions about ADHD. Comments like “well everyone gets bored” or “if we all just (insert opinion here ‘went outside more/ stayed off our phones/ didn’t eat any sugar/ embraced yoga’) no one would even have ADHD.” There’s clear, concise information about how ADHD brains function differently. The neuron pathways are different. The chemicals are different, with a noticeable deficit of noreprinephrine. The functionality of various sections of the brain are different, particularly in how the various sections work (or don’t work) with each other. You can spend two minutes educating yourself and enjoy a lifetime of beneficial perspective: https://www.additudemag.com/neuroscience-of-adhd-brain/
2) It’s not personal. I work really hard to address the social aspects of this diagnosis, but I know it impacts other people. I practice active listening but have a hard time doing so when I’m focused on something else, like a sporting event. Dear moms in bleachers, I promise I’m not trying to be rude or standoffish. My tunnel vision is seeing “dribble, ball, hoop” not “how’s work going for you?” I care about your life and your work, but I need intentional time to give you my full attention. When I have coffee dates and dinner reservations with friends I never have my phone out, I work to give you my focus because you are worth it and I care. I often now say to my colleagues, “Give me 60 seconds to finish this email then I will give you my full attention.”
3) I work to be patient in understanding other people often don’t think or act like I do, please try to be patient with me as well. I have exuberance and creativity that flows freely. It could feel like I don’t respect a process or timeline when in fact my energy doesn’t stop because a project plan says the time isn’t right.
4) I can be organized. I know, it’s not my natural state. But it is important in both life and work. You can expect that from me and give me feedback when you’re not getting what you need. But I need designated time, preferably in a quiet place, to get lost in the project plan, to push my attention toward the task of doing it. Expect it from me, but don’t expect it without giving me time to prepare.
5) I have time-blindness. It can come off as great under pressure and optimistic. That’s true. But it also creates an agonizing dissonance between my intentions and actions. I’m sure you don’t care how great I am under pressure if I am 12 minutes late to your meeting because I was optimistically changing the world in my previous meeting. I don’t want a “pass” if it negatively impacts you. But please don’t shame me. I am aware, I seek tools all the time to correct my ineffectiveness at perceiving time outside of the present, and I see growth.
Transactional vs Relational
Like many organizations, we survey our staff annually to get anonymous feedback on our organizational health. We end the survey with an open-ended question, asking for any three words that describe our culture. Every answer is represented in this word cloud. There was a three way tie for the most used words: Supportive, Innovative and Fun. Right behind were Flexible, Inspiring, and Passionate.
Even more amazing, on the question “I am able to maintain my personal priorities with my workload” not a single employee disagreed! 100% of our staff feels seen and prioritized in a way that’s not often associated with work.
There’s a theory in business that organizations can thrive transactionally or relationally. Leaders, those are not mutually exclusive. We make hard decisions too, we never have enough resources. But being good to people IS good for business. Our momentum and key performance indicators continue to shine and grow. External accolades come and go, but my proudest days as a leader are when I know people feel loved and supported. Our incredible growth shows it’s great for business as well.
What are you doing to support someone in your workplace?
Our Rally "Cry."
Risking something.
I’ve carried the darkness for 23 years. As I’ve reflected on why I didn’t report, I’ve come to realize that I’m part of the universal cover up. I’m embarrassed. I want my privacy. I don’t want to be affiliated with debauchery or promiscuity. I didn’t want to be labeled the radical poster child of the “women’s movement.” But I know now that I am at a precipice. I can no longer support justice quietly, from my safe haven of privacy and solitude. I need to shoulder some of the risk, I need to normalize speaking out.
I was 16. I was introverted and studious. I was committed to athletics and school, to going to bed early and maintaining a healthy diet. I’d never been to a high school party. I didn’t drink, I didn’t smoke. I had few close friends, spending my time with my high school sweetheart, reading good books and working out. That’s when sexual assault came knocking on my door- or rather, storming right through it.
It was roughly 11 PM on a summer night. I don’t remember the exact date. Years and trauma have washed away the transactional details- what remains are the vivid emotions. I had long since been asleep in my own bed, in our quiet neighborhood, in sleepy Des Moines, IA. I was a light sleeper and heard my bedroom door open, a shadowy figure outlined in the space. He closed the door quickly behind him and I knew... I was not naïve to darkness in the world, to catcalls, lingering touches, the leers of men both young and old. My life had been lived with the caution required of being a young female in this world. I had an older brother and his friends came and went into our home frequently. Usually filling the space with laughter, but tonight filling it with something horrible.
Adrenaline was pulsing through me, I scanned the room for an escape. We lived in a small home and it took him just one step to leap from the door to my bed, smothering me with his 18 years of masculinity. The smell of alcohol was pungent, a sour stench radiating off of him. I recognized him as a boy who had attended my high school, a few years older than me. He had been on the wresting team, muscular and athletic. I knew almost nothing else about him.
There were no words, no kind gestures. He aggressively kissed me, forcing himself on me, making me gag on the abrupt attack and sour taste. There was no pretending that he intended anything to be consensual. He forced all of his weight on me, frantically grabbing at my body. I was sleeping in a t-shirt and athletic shorts. My instincts had taken over and I was fighting back with all of my might, turning my face away, trying to push him off of me. I plead, “STOP, STOP, STOP, GET OFF!” His hand was up my shirt now, clawing at me and tears were in my eyes as I pushed against him with all of my power and will. Why didn’t I scream? To channel what my 16 year old self was thinking is difficult because I am a different person now. Today I’d scream from the top of my lungs. I’d bite his ear off. I’d be unapologetic about defending my body and soul. But we, the world, don’t teach girls to be unapologetic. We teach them to question, to be thoughtful about others, to be polite with words and level with actions. We teach them not to be presumptuous, or rude or hurtful. I was a “good” girl, a rule follower and not a wave maker. I wanted to defend my body, but be humble and kind while doing it.
He was grasping at my shorts and I was in pure panic. It was exactly what I held up, of all of the fears in my young mind, as my worst nightmare. He was grinding on me with his full body weight, enjoying the game of cat and mouse. I was sobbing, my neck straining to get my face away from him. I couldn’t move, his 50 pound advantage pinning me down. I suddenly felt his body go limp and he chuckled lightly. He stood up, staggering slightly, and sheepishly grabbed at his pants, indicating he’d “finished” what he started earlier than he meant to. He staggered out of my room without another word.
I was left with the weight of shame and fear, and I wore it like a coat as the years ticked by. I was diligent about my personal safety, I steered away from men, dark spaces, college parties, any place where I didn’t feel in total control. I went on one date, with one boy in college, breaking it off after he tried to kiss me. I didn’t tell my mom, my best friends or my eventual husband. I didn’t label what happened. I didn’t say, even to myself, “that guy sexually assaulted me.” When the attacker’s name on rare occasions came up in social circles, I’d mutter quietly, “that guy was always a creep” and drop it.
Today, I am done covering it up. It’s inhumane to take dignity and safety from another person and I will not perpetuate the notion that it’s dirty to talk about being a victim.
I am a CEO. I am a leader of people, a protector of youth. I am strong, achievement-driven, intelligent and compassionate and I am standing here today saying what happened to me was someone else’s wrong. It was not dirty or scandalous. It was not deserved or radical. I teach girls every single day about self worth and strength, and it is my duty to risk something, and share in the job of shouldering the enormous weight of changing the way we talk about sexual assault. In the words of my high school basketball coach, “this isn’t a spectator sport, get in there and fight.” Maybe it took 23 years, but I’m in the fight.
