ABOUT THE AUTHOR

David Maxfield is the author of the New York Times bestselling book, Influencer: The Power to Change Anything.

READ MORE

Dear Crucial Skills,

After working as chair of a small committee in my department for more than a year, my boss told me I must step down because the committee finds my leadership “chaotic.” I am concerned that this is indicative of my inability to lead. I chaired the committee years back and was relieved of command without a full explanation, and I have served on several committees without being asked to chair. My question is two-fold. First, can leadership be learned or is it a trait people are born with? Second, what should I do to regain the trust of my department—I’d like to be a leader.

Lacking Leadership Skills

Good for you for turning this unfortunate situation into an opportunity for personal development. Too many people in your shoes become defensive, angry, or depressed.

Is leadership a trait? No! You don’t have to change your genes or revisit your early upbringing. Rather, leadership is a bundle of skills, and now is the perfect time for you to master them.

Begin with a skill scan. Consider the different skills that are required to lead committees, and determine where to begin. You already have some clues. Your boss says the committee finds your leadership “chaotic.” Learn more about what that means. Find someone who will share tough truths with you, and get concrete examples of when your behavior caused others to draw that conclusion.

Chances are you need to build your skills in one or two of the competencies involved in leading a committee. Here are the areas I’d consider:

Project Management Skills: Committees are formed to accomplish objectives. The committee leader is expected to manage the overall process of achieving these objectives. Up front, you work with the committee’s stakeholders to define the project. Then, during the project, you work with team members to keep the project on time, on spec, and on budget. Maybe “chaotic” means you aren’t doing enough between meetings to keep the project on course.

Meeting Management Skills: The committee leader usually leads the committee’s meetings. Meeting leaders make sure the right people are at the meeting, they come prepared, and they make sure the meeting starts and ends on time, the agenda is clear, and decisions and next steps are documented. Maybe “chaotic” means people find the meetings confusing or unhelpful.

Dialogue Skills: The committee leader is expected to foster open dialogue and to help resolve disagreements. Do your committees get bogged down in disputes? Do you see silence and violence instead of honest and frank discussion? Maybe “chaotic” means people see dithering, debate, and denial where they want dialogue.

Political Skills: The committee leader is expected to maintain strong communication links to the customers and stakeholders who are sponsoring the committee. The leader keeps everyone updated on progress and changing needs. Maybe “chaotic” means people feel blindsided by changes that come from outside the committee.

Build the skills, using deliberate practice: Listen to others’ specific feedback. Select the area where you are weakest, and then build your skills. Read books and articles, or take a workshop. Even better, find a colleague who is a good leader and ask for coaching.

Then begin your deliberate practice. Volunteer for an assignment that requires you to use your new skills, but don’t practice at work. Find a community or volunteer assignment where you can build your skills.

A warning: Maybe your boss isn’t being completely direct with you. Maybe his or her real desire is to have you spend less time working on committees and more time working on another assignment. Ask yourself whether leading a committee is the best way for you to contribute. If it isn’t, then consider focusing on an area that makes you more valuable.

Finally, if a leadership opportunity presents itself in the near future, don’t pursue it. New skills require an investment of time. So does regaining trust. Don’t rush back into a committee chair position until you and your organization are ready.

David

In this month’s Change Anything column, Patricia S. shares the specific strategies she used to save her marriage.

My husband and I have been married for nearly twenty-seven years. However, it wasn’t until five years ago that I began to understand what it meant to be completely committed to another person.

At the time, my job as a nurse educator required me to travel for eight years. My husband was upset with me for being gone so often and I was frustrated because my expectations of having a clean house, full refrigerator, and happy children were often unmet. I was the stereotypical husband and my husband was the stereotypical wife. The strange role reversal was further complicated because we were mad at each other all the time.

One night after I returned from a work trip, we hit an all-time low. After realizing my husband didn’t want to be with me for more than an hour, I asked him if he wanted to continue this relationship. I was devastated when he calmly replied, “Well, no. Not really.”

I knew we had to change because I didn’t want to lose the marriage. I knew my children would suffer and that I’d miss him if we weren’t together. And I also knew that if we were to change, I’d have to start with myself. There were obvious things he did to create problems, but sober reflection helped me see I wasn’t innocent either.

After some initial false starts, we started to rebuild our relationship. It took five years of hard work, but we improved our relationship and strengthened our marriage through the following strategies:

Source 1: Love What You Hate—I was motivated to change by two examples of difficult marriages. I watched as the father of my daughter’s best friend had an affair that devastated the family. I remember thinking, “I don’t want to go through this, and I especially don’t want my children to go through it.” This realization motivated me to work through our problems, no matter how difficult or frustrating.

I was also motivated by remembering the constant fear I felt as a child watching my parents fight. My parents won their fights by yelling the longest and loudest. In one argument, my dad shoved a piece of furniture out of place, slammed the door, and left for a few days. I remember being so scared they would divorce. I didn’t want my children to live with that same fear.

I also drew on my religious faith regarding the sanctity of marriage. One day in church, I was nearly brought to tears when I reread our marriage vows and realized I needed to start over. For better or for worse took on a whole new meaning as I recommitted to our vows and applied my stubborn tendencies to saving rather than destroying our marriage.

Source 2: Do What You Can’t—I realized I needed to hold a few crucial conversations with my husband and that I needed to learn how to hold them. I signed up for Crucial Conversations Training, read the book, and listened to the audio companion. With these new skills, I learned how to make it safe for my husband to talk to me. I started by working on me first and gradually learned how to hold a successful crucial conversation with my husband.

Sources 3 & 4: Turn Accomplices into Friends—My husband was a wonderful example of what it means to be a devoted spouse. One night when I was sick, he picked up a prescription for me at 2:00 a.m. When I apologized for the inconvenience, he simply said, “I love you. This is part of it.” This was a turning point. Those words made me understand what it truly means to be committed to somebody and to be their friend instead of working against them. I began to see him more as an ally and coach. We also had other “friends” in the form of a marriage counselor who gave us advice and encouragement.

Source 5: Invert the Economy—Some of our marital stress was a function of our lifestyle. We simplified our lives so I didn’t have to work two jobs which reduced my anxiety and gave us more time together. Removing the financial incentive to be apart was crucial to our making things work.

Source 6: Control Your Space—We also made a decision to move from Minnesota to California in hopes that it would improve our health problems. I have a chronic illness that was exacerbated by the cold climate of Minnesota, and my husband suffers from depression. Sunny California has made all the difference. We spend more time outside doing things we both love and have reexamined our lives and values.

I can honestly say the longer we are together, the less attached I feel to my old self. We have stopped pulling our separate ways and now allow the full expression of each other’s personalities to show without fear of reprisal. The time we spend together is so enjoyable. It has taken a lot of work but it has been worth it. We’re holding hands again and heading off in the same direction.

Editor’s Note: Similar stories of inspiring change will be featured in our upcoming book about personal change due to be released Spring 2011. If you have an inspiring story of personal change, please send it to editor@vitalsmarts.com and include “Change Anything Story” in the subject line of your e-mail.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kerry Patterson is the author of three bestselling books, Influencer, Crucial Conversations, and Crucial Confrontations.
READ MORE

Listen to Kerrying On via MP3
Listen to Kerrying On via iTunes

About six months ago, as I walked into church I was warmly greeted by my two neighbors, Betsy and Howard Nielson. The two warmly shook my hand, gave me a weekly bulletin, and smiled as they politely moved to the people standing behind me. This charming pair in their late 60s had been appointed to the newly-created position of “greeters.” Each Sunday it would be their job to stand at the chapel door, smile, hand out church bulletins, and make small talk.

By profession, Howard had been a chemistry professor and Betsy a lawyer. Both had been retired for about five years. When I first met the two at a neighborhood gathering I discovered they lived in the Bay Area in the early 70s at the same time I had been stationed there in the Coast Guard. As we shared memories of the area and era, the conversation somehow turned to the marvelous regional theater. I enthusiastically explained that one of the highlights of my stay in California had been a local theater competition I had attended. The theme had been “One, Two, Three” and one of the ten-minute skits that competed was aptly re-titled “One-tooth Ree.” As you’ve probably guessed, it was about a poor fellow named Ree who had but one tooth and the challenges he faced trying to find a girlfriend. The music, lyrics, script, and staging were delightful and I gushed over its creativity.

“One-tooth-Ree!” Howard exclaimed. “Why Betsy wrote the play, the music, and the lyrics. I did the costuming, sets, and staging.” Then the two began singing the theme song as I stood there with my mouth agape. Somehow, after thirty years of moving about the country, I had run into the people who produced my favorite mini-musical of all time. The three of us laughed about the coincidence and I marveled that a chemist and lawyer had crafted such an incredible production. Both were modest in their response and eventually went on to talk about their other surprise talents—the books she had written and the photo contests he had won.

“Actually I’ve written quite a lot,” Betsy enthused, “but over the past few years nobody has asked me about my work.”

From there the conversation turned to the fact that aging, along with its physical challenges, was putting them out to pasture despite the fact that they still wanted to be yoked. It turns out both Betsy and Howard had been (in their own words) “given the bum’s rush” into retirement. And now within their own parish, two vibrant parishioners who had once run the church’s charity drives and led the youth camping programs had been politely released from their volunteer jobs and appointed “greeters.”

“It’s a token job,” Betsy explained with a sad smile. “You can’t exactly fire people at church so you make up some position and move them to that.”

“Not that people don’t need to be greeted,” Howard added. “It’s just that we have so much more to offer.”

Since talking with Betsy and Howard that day, I’ve made it a point to converse with each of the retired people in my environs to learn what it’s been like as they moved into their “golden” years. Some have loved the transition to a life of less stress and more free time, some report a hollow feeling they can’t seem to fill, and all allude to the fact that once you reach a certain age (or look), people don’t exactly view you as a cauldron of wisdom. Friends, family, and neighbors don’t seem to care a whit about the photos you shot back in the old days or the books you wrote back when the earth was still cooling, or for that matter, the advice you might want to proffer today.

What must it be like to be bubbling over with ideas and never asked for your point of view? How does it feel to stand on the sidelines and crave to be sent back in the game? “Put me in coach,” you think to yourself. “I can do it!”

But nobody calls.

At some level I understand why today’s senior citizens aren’t always valued for their years of priceless experience. Centuries ago, when people worked in jobs like saddle maker or silver-bowl master, it took years to learn the craft. Consequently, older people were quite likely to know more about how to complete a job than just about anyone. Two hundred years ago, skilled craftsmen remained rock stars right up until the day they died.

But things have changed. Today’s older generation isn’t going to pass on the wisdom of five generations of haberdashery or the finer points of millinery arts. Nowadays, technology moves so fast that almost no form of expertise remains relevant for very long. For instance, my folks learned how to sell radio advertising space and process black-and-white photos, but those fields have long since been replaced with new technologies. Nobody cares much about them any more.

But that doesn’t mean that today’s more senior and experienced citizens don’t still have a lot to offer. I know this is true because I took my cue from the Nielsons and started making it a point to talk to older people—no longer making small talk—but now making big talk. In church, between meetings, and after exchanging greetings, I ask: “What’s the most interesting thing you learned in your career?” or “What advice do you have for me as a new grandparent?” or “What’s the most important book you ever read?”

From there the discussion always turns lively and interesting. It’s like opening the door to a library. For instance, last week when my neighbor George (a retired geologist) stopped by to take a look at our remodeling project, I took him over to the new granite countertops and asked him to teach me about the stone.

“If I were still teaching Geology 101,” George enthused, “I’d bring my students by your place just to look at this! Examining this stone is like reading an ancient manuscript. The granite you see in the field is covered with dirt and even when it’s exposed it’s hard to examine. But when you slice and polish a massive piece like this, you can peer back into the very formation of the earth. For example, you see this dark brown scar that runs across this slab? The stone had a crack in it and millennia ago magma poured into the void. And you see these tiny marks that look like ancient writing, they’re called ‘glyphs,’ but they’re not made by man, they’re made by nature. It all starts when . . .”

After enjoying several equally enlightening conversations with several other friends and neighbors, I decided to ask Betsy Nielson to share some of her writing with me. She had suggested that nobody asked her about her work anymore, so I asked her. Within hours, Betsy appeared at our front door with a large book in hand. She reverently opened it to a picture of a smiling young man standing at attention in full flight gear. It was her brother Roy and he had just graduated from flight school.

“In this book,” Betsy explained, “I contributed a story about my brother Roy’s flight experience in World War II.”

Then I noticed Betsy cradling a letter in her hands—holding it more like a religious artifact than an epistle.

“It’s a letter Roy sent me,” Betsy said as she fought back a tear. “It starts out, ‘Dear Sis.’”

She then paused to regain her composure.

“Roy was eight years older than me, and kind enough to write his kid sister about once a month. Receiving a letter from him was the highlight of my youth. In this particular letter Roy makes small talk about his daily goings-on and ends by hoping that his flight scheduled for later that day will be successful. He and his crew were hunting down enemy submarines and that was always dangerous.”

“So what happened?” I asked.

“You’ll note the date on the letter.” Betsy answered. “You’re a bit young to know this, but it was the last day of the war.”

“And?”

“And Roy’s plane was shot down. He and his entire crew were lost. My brother and his buddies were among the last soldiers to die—they may have been the last soldiers to lose their lives in the war.”

No wonder Betsy was cradling the letter. It was a poignant and tender piece of history. Tears ran down our cheeks as we discussed Roy’s sacrifice and Betsy’s feelings. It was a cherished moment for me and it had been the result of asking a simple question: “Would you share some of your writings?” I had called Betsy back into the game and both of us were blessed for my having done so.

And what did I do to get Betsy back into the game? How did I open the library door? First, I took the time to talk with an older friend. Second, I traded small talk for big talk. Third, I listened intently as my friend shared a story.

In Betsy’s own words, unlocking untold treasures had been as simple as One-tooth Ree.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ron McMillan is the author of three bestselling books, Influencer, Crucial Conversations, and Crucial Confrontations.
READ MORE

Dear Crucial Skills,

My husband’s parents are divorced. His dad didn’t talk to him or my sister-in-law for years and only began showing interest in them after my sister-in-law had kids. Even though my husband has tried to build a relationship with his dad, he often feels he is treated poorly or ignored.

For example, his dad and stepmom planned their family summer vacation the same week as my family’s annual visit—even after they agreed not to schedule conflicting vacations. His dad gave a few seemingly meaningless reasons for scheduling their vacation the same week as my family’s, but my sister-in-law told us the real reason was her dad wanted my husband to pick his family over mine. How do I approach this situation, knowing that if we don’t discuss it, it will continue to happen? Do I talk to my husband’s family about how hurt we are, or let my husband fight his own family battles?

Worried Wife

  Dear Worried,

Some of my happiest, most joyous moments are the result of loving family relationships. Ironically, the greatest pain of my life, without exception, is the result of a ruptured family relationship.

Family relationships, including extended family and in-laws, are complex; they carry historical baggage and have especially tender sensitivities. I believe of all the crucial conversations we face, those involving family are the most important and frequently the most difficult.

The approach I suggest begins with a tried and true question: “What do you really want?” You and your husband should each answer this question for yourselves, and then agree on one answer. The answer is not as obvious as “Well, he’s family so I guess we have to. . .” Some family relationships are emotionally toxic, and the best answer to what you really want could be to have no relationship at all. Other possible answers are conditional. For example, “I do not want any relationship with my father-in-law until he sobers up.”

Understanding what you really want is the first step in deciding how to proceed and what should follow.

In your question, you state that your husband has tried to build a relationship and that you are both hurt by your father-in-law’s actions, so I will assume you both want a better relationship with your father-in-law.

The next step is to master your stories. You mention that your father-in-law didn’t talk to your husband or his sister for several years; that your husband feels poorly treated or ignored; and you wonder if you should “let him fight his own family battles,” or if you should do it on his behalf.

With this information, most of us would be inclined to tell a marvelous villain story about your father-in-law. How horrible that he ignored his son and daughter for years, and now intentionally schedules his family vacation at a time that will force his son to choose which family he loves most. This iteration of the story definitely depicts the deeds of a villain and certainly would require fighting a battle to deal with them.

However, if what you really want is to build a closer, better relationship you ought to look for a way to build a bridge.

Is there any good news in your story of events that could hint at your father-in-law’s intentions? He stopped ignoring his children after his grandchildren were born. Could this indicate his desire to have a relationship? Apparently, he invited you and your husband to his family vacation. That seems to show some initiative toward building a relationship. All in all, there is some evidence he wants a relationship with the two of you. Maybe his motives are not entirely evil and selfish. Maybe he has some good intentions but is using a lousy strategy to achieve them. Testing his son’s love or loyalty by forcing him to choose between family vacations is a very poor strategy. It almost seems like he is insecure in the relationship and would like reassurance that the interest is mutual (good intention, lousy strategy).

Now, by exploring some alternative interpretations of the facts in your story we can escape the certainty of our villain story and replace it with a question story. In so doing, the story changes from “my father-in-law is a villain and we must do battle” to “I’m not sure why he’s doing what he’s doing; maybe we should talk with him.” As your story changes, so will your emotions. Righteous indignation and upset becomes curiosity and concern. These are the feelings you should carry into a crucial conversation.

Note that it would also be a lousy strategy to simply assume others have “a good heart” and excuse their hurtful behavior. All that does is empower and encourage their weaknesses and assure the bad behavior continues. Rather, we want to improve relationships by clarifying good intentions and improving the way we treat each other.

Since both you and your husband want a good relationship with your father-in-law and you want him to have a good relationship with both of you, make sure you are both involved in this crucial conversation.

Start by sitting down together. Share your good intentions by saying something like, “We were so excited to get your invitation to the family vacation. We want to spend more time with you. We want a close relationship with you and vacation time together would be a good way to do it.”

Next, describe the gap between what you want and what you’ll do. “Unfortunately, my family’s vacation is scheduled the same week and we will have to miss yours because we had previously committed to attend theirs.”

This beginning helps your father-in-law see that your desire is to attend his get together, you want a better relationship, and you will attend your family’s gathering—not because you love him less, but because you made a previous commitment. Having established your good intention and respectfully suggested a mutual purpose (a closer relationship), you have gone a long way toward making it safe for him to engage in a problem-solving conversation.

Check to see if your story is correct by saying, “When you scheduled the family vacation for the same week as my family’s vacation, especially after we had talked about it, we were puzzled. It almost seems as if you were intentionally causing us to choose you over them, or that you didn’t want us to come to yours. Is that what happened, or are we missing something?”

Now listen and seek to understand his view. Compare perceptions and assumptions and work together to create a new set of expectations and understandings.

By being open and honest when discussing problems, deceit and manipulations are exposed and don’t work. Essentially, by naming the game, you don’t have to play it. In addition, by tentatively and respectfully sharing what you think might be happening, you give the other person a chance to respond and clarify. They are also put on notice that any “games” or manipulations they might be tempted to use in the future will be exposed and discussed.

The mutual purpose of wanting a good relationship brings you together. The honest, open, respectful communication reveals your good intention, solves problems, and adds discipline to the relationship going forward.

I hope you find these ideas helpful in building bridges rather than going to battle.

Ron

ABOUT THE EXPERT
Steve Willis is a master trainer and vice president of professional services at VitalSmarts.
READ MORE

I’m not a superstitious person, but I do have a set number of training rituals I adhere to. You know, things like always using a three water-cup rotation to ensure I stay hydrated, and never, never, never (and I mean never) training with spare change in your pocket—I find I’m just too tempted to break out in a stirring round of “I got change that jingle, jangle, jingles as I go trainin’ merrily along.”

One ritual I never miss is handing out the evaluations at the end of the course—because you need to know how you did, right? In fact, this ritual is so regular and significant that I started thinking of trainings in terms of the overall score from the eval. When people asked how my session had gone, I’d respond with something like, “Well, you know, it was about a 5.7.” I even got pretty good at predicting the overall scores before I finished the training.

Last week I taught back-to-back classes. The first session was okay (it was about a 5.4), but the second session was on track to be at least a 5.8 and maybe even a 5.9. Just as I was whipping the class into a late afternoon learning frenzy, with a 5.9 clearly in sight, a participant from the previous day peeked through the door and beckoned me out of the class.

I knew if I ducked out to talk to this guy, I’d be looking at a 5.4 at best. I looked over and saw he was still there waiting for me, so I took one last look at my 5.9, gave the class an exercise to work on, and slipped out of the back of the room.

He apologized for interrupting my session and then said, “I just wanted to come by and let you know that I had a crucial conversation this morning with my boss that I’d been putting off. It was a conversation I had thought was hopeless, but in the end it turned out great. In fact it worked out so well this morning, I’ve set up another one with my director for this afternoon. I just wanted to let you know that all that stuff you were teaching us really worked. Thanks.” We talked for a minute more before he took off for his second crucial conversation.

It’s experiences like these that help underscore that some rituals aren’t the driving reason for why we do things. In other words, it’s not all about the evals! Yes, they are helpful. Yes, they provide valuable improvement feedback. But, in the end, the reason we step in front of any class shouldn’t be the elusive 5.9, but to help individuals meet and overcome the significant challenges they’re facing. Thank you, Justin. I’m glad you took the time to remind me of this last week.

Steve Willis’ From the Road column will now be published in the Trainer Talk Newsletter, our e-newsletter for VitalSmarts trainers. To read past From the Road articles, visit the newsletter archive.