A Young Me Walked Into My Office

A Young Me Walked Into My Office

John Paul Derryberry

There is this weird thing that occurs in leadership. The same stuff you pulled lands on your desk, and you must ask yourself how to proceed. It's an odd phenomenon. You have more knowledge as a leader than when you were the pesky, rule-bending, front-line staff. It's a mind-melt to process how you want to interact with this staff. On some level, it becomes a conversation, not between you and your staff, but you and your younger self. 

Somewhere along the way, many of us forget, once we reach our mountain-top position, our screw-ups, our struggles, our passion, and our desire to leave an impact, to become footnotes. But, in reality, they are real stories of how we reached the pinnacle of our profession. Leaders either nurtured our careers or chipped away a little at our passion. So we either find a way to educate, navigate, and guide these folks to be better employees, or we cut down their passion. And it's also a reflection of how we view our current selves, our past selves, and our role in ushering in the next generation of whatever profession we call our work. 

Close your eyes and remember that meeting with a supervisor you had when you were young. I would bet a lot of money that you remember how they treated you. You left the office either thinking there was a way to get better or a way to update your resume, hating your profession a little bit more than you ever thought you would. As for me, someone who bent the rules a lot, I have lots of those memories. I can tell you the bosses who made me feel human after a screw-up, and I can give you great details about the bosses who made me feel less than human after screwing up. 

The trick for me is staying connected to the young professional I was, who wanted to make a difference. The one full of spirit, energy, and the one willing to risk it all, in a meeting with a supervisor, with some choice words. How do I lead to reach that guy? How do I answer questions, not to kill that energy but shape it into something more professional? What words do I choose, what information do I share, and how do I carry myself to grow that type of passion into something more? 

That's what great leaders do. They remember all their screw-ups once they reach their professional peak. They remind everyone behind them they that screwed up, they have a weird story on how they moved up, and in some ways, they lead as if they have to answer to their younger self. They don't erase the struggle and buff out the rough edges of their career. Instead, they try to do that for others; that's what they should be doing. If I were lucky enough to spend five minutes with 24-year-old John, he would approve of my job. 'Cause if he would, so would just about everyone else.--