PRACTICE 5
WITH PEOPLE, DO YOU OFTEN CONCLUDE THAT “WHAT YOU SEE IS WHAT YOU GET”?
If so, you may want to consider
PRACTICE 5: SEE THE TREE, NOT JUST THE SEEDLING.
When you see just the seedling and not the tree, your room may feel like Sartre’s hell because:
• Your limiting beliefs become reality.
• Growth is stunted in yourself and others.
• You’re continually looking elsewhere for talent that may be right in front of you.
Rhonda sent me three texts in less than thirty minutes, which was definitely not the norm. I had been stuck in an important meeting, so I couldn’t break away, despite her somewhat cryptic message: “Making a personnel change on my team. Call me.”
After wrapping things up, I found I had some time before my next commitment, so I headed down to her office. I suspected a face-to-face conversation might be better than a call. I found Rhonda at her desk reviewing papers, a yellow highlighter in one hand and a red pen in the other. She looked up at me over her reading glasses and raised an eyebrow. “So you are in the office today,” she teased. Rhonda assumed everyone had an innate capacity to multitask as well as she could, and had she ever announced that she’d come from a long line of circus jugglers, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
“Sorry I couldn’t get back to you,” I said, “but I do have a few minutes now if that works.”
“Shouldn’t take too long,” she said.
I shut the door behind me and took a seat. “So personnel changes?” I prompted.
“Pretty much. I need to let Ava go, and I know I can’t just do that without jumping through all the HR hoops.” I pushed the image of circus performers out of my mind. “Whatever we have to do to check the box and let her go,” she continued. “I know there’s a protocol we have to follow for this sort of thing, so what’s the quickest way we can get it done?”
“Okay, I hear you,” I replied, “but how about we slow things down a little. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
Rhonda sighed, putting her pen down. “You know the old saying, ‘A chain is only as strong as its weakest link?’ ”
“I’m familiar with it.”
“It’s as simple as that: Ava is the weak link on our team. She’s not pulling her weight, Todd, and I don’t know if she’s incapable or lazy or maybe both. But I do know she just doesn’t have what it takes to succeed, and while it may sound unfair, I’ve heard from others that she’s basically worthless. She just doesn’t have the potential for this job.”
Rhonda’s situation certainly wasn’t unique. I’ve had similar discussions with other managers over the years who have basically given up on a team member. Sometimes a person is truly misaligned for a role and a change needs to be made. But while making a change is often the go-to thinking, a true misalignment is not always the case. It’s human nature to get frustrated with someone’s behavior and want to write the person off, especially if he or she isn’t doing the job the way you think it should be done. Such was the case for Joseph Degenhart, a Greek grammar teacher who had become furious at the behavior of one of his students—an unruly boy who had a reputation for telling jokes and cutting class. Degenhart went so far as to make the case that the child be expelled from school. He wrote a devastating note: “Nothing will ever become of you. Your mere presence here undermines the class’s respect for me.”
The student, as it turned out, was Albert Einstein.
But the story continues. Because of such poor references, Einstein barely squeaked into college. It was there, however, that he met a more senior student who saw great potential in him. The student’s name was Michelangelo Besso, and he also studied physics. It was unusual for an upperclassman like Besso to take an interest in such a junior classmate, but their friendship became the closest of Einstein’s life. Besso not only helped the struggling Einstein get a job, but they had frequent engaging discussions about science. Einstein found in Besso a true listener, a sounding board for his ideas about the universe. It was during these talks with Besso that Einstein made his great leap of discovery—the astounding idea that there must be almost unlimited energy packed within every atom of matter. That led to the discovery of atomic power and reframed how we came to think about the universe. Later Besso would remark that “Einstein the eagle took Besso the sparrow under his wing, and the sparrow flew a little higher.”6 Hardly anyone remembers Besso now, but without Besso’s belief in Einstein, “the eagle,” the world may have missed out on one of the greatest thinkers in human history.
When we look at a person’s potential—whether it’s a co-worker, direct report, friend, partner, or child—it requires us to see past the “seed” and envision the mighty tree it can become. Seeing potential in others is a paradigm that recognizes growth as an organic principle. It doesn’t happen overnight; it’s a function of growth over time. After years of watching and helping others grow in their careers and relationships, I have come to believe that people are fundamentally resourceful, capable, and whole—a view that stands in stark contrast with the notion that people are broken, incapable, or needing to be fixed.
I recall an incident earlier in my career where a boss saw me not only for who I was, but also for what I was capable of. I had been employed as a recruitment manager for what was then called Covey Leadership Center. It was my thirty-fifth day of employment—and while I can’t recall much of what happened on Day Thirty-Four or Thirty-Six, I do remember Day Thirty-Five with great clarity. After an early morning company meeting, my boss Pam introduced me to one of the members of the senior-leadership team. As we shook hands, she announced, “Let me tell you what Todd has accomplished during his first thirty-five days with us.”
I panicked and couldn’t imagine what she was about to say: I couldn’t think of one thing I’d done during the past thirty-five days that warranted attention from a member of the senior-leadership team. Sick to my stomach, I listened as Pam continued: “Todd filled the sales position in Chicago that has been vacant for the past six months, he’s drafted a relocation policy we’ve needed for quite some time, he’s created a recruitment strategy for the coming year . . .” And the list went on.
Now, I don’t share this story to boast about my successes. I share it because I remember that moment like it was yesterday. While I realized that I had accomplished the things Pam was describing, I was in shock that she took such an active interest in what I was doing. I remember thinking at the time, This woman believes I can do anything! That belief resonated in me for years to come, and I made it a priority to exceed her expectations with anything and everything she asked. Pam truly believed in me—more than I believed in myself—and I wasn’t about to prove her wrong.
Chances are you’ve been on the receiving end of someone who recognized and believed in your potential—seeing the tree, not just the seedling. It may have come from a parent, a sibling, a teacher, or even a boss. Dr. Covey summed up his own experience with the man who started him down the path that ultimately led to his life’s work: “His ability to see more in me than I saw in myself—his willingness to entrust me with responsibility that would stretch me to my potential—unlocked something in me.” This powerful experience led to Dr. Stephen R. Covey’s often-repeated maxim: “Leadership is communicating to people their worth and potential so clearly that they come to see it themselves.”
You may recall the story of my daughter Sydney in the first practice, and my struggles to help her complete a marathon. I have a distinct memory of the two of us going to the video store when she was a child. (If you don’t know what a video store is, imagine Netflix as a retail shop where movies are downloaded onto large spools of magnetic tape for your convenience.) Sydney was eight years old at the time, and given her hearing loss, her mother and I were the only two people who could readily understand her when she spoke. Nevertheless, my precocious little girl was determined that she was going to be the one to ask the video-store clerk to find the Disney movie she had in mind. I immediately became anxious; I had no idea how this stranger would react to her inability to speak clearly, or how that might, in turn, affect my daughter. As her father, I wanted to protect her from experiencing the pain she was certain to encounter—to shield her self-esteem from any of the bruises that might result. But this little girl would not be swayed, and she approached the counter determined. She confidently announced the movie she wanted. Her speech was unclear as she pressed too many words together, lacking the normal diction one learns while growing up hearing others speak.
The confused video clerk turned his head, unable to understand her. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
I wanted to leap to her defense. It would have been easy enough to do, and would save her any further pain or embarrassment. But Sydney pressed on, repeating her words a second time. The clerk looked at me, inviting me to interpret what my daughter was asking for. But before I could jump in, my daughter grabbed hold of the counter and tried again.
“I’m so sorry, I still don’t understand,” the clerk replied. I couldn’t imagine what this felt like for this precious eight-year-old. I practically willed her to give up and turn around—I knew all it would take was one imploring look, and I could jump in and solve the situation. But she didn’t. She took a breath, and again let the words tumble from her mouth the best she could. This attempt at communication happened over and over. The clerk, to his credit, continued to try his best to understand. But each time he came up short, unable to piece together the words my daughter was attempting to say. I watched, unsure of what to do. I worried that each attempt was only going to make the final defeat more painful. My daughter, undeterred, made the seventh attempt. I wondered how long this back-and-forth could continue. But something registered in the clerk’s expression—he managed to catch hold of a word from within the sounds my daughter was making.
“Mermaid . . . ? The Little Mermaid? Is that what you’d like?” he asked.
My daughter nodded excitedly, looking triumphant as the clerk retrieved the tape. In that moment, I realized the limiting view that had crept into my perception of Sydney. She wasn’t broken, incapable, or needing to be fixed. Certainly, she had her challenges, but I had forgotten that this amazing child had lived with her disability since she was a baby. She had learned to overcome it time and time again. This was a girl who possessed the strength and potential to achieve whatever she wanted in life! My paradigm changed when I came to see my daughter as someone with much more potential than I had previously allowed. Had I stepped in to help her, even with my good intentions, it would have undermined everything she was working for. In trying to help, I might have decreased her potential, perhaps slowing her growth from a seedling into a magnificent tree. There is power in failure. Standing alone at the video-store counter, Sydney had the opportunity to try and fail without someone taking over. When I held back, it sent a different message—a message that I believed in her. And even though I was paralyzed with fear, it had been a serendipitous moment because it allowed me to recognize what she was capable of.
Seeing potential in others isn’t just about hoping people will succeed. It’s believing they have unlimited talents, abilities, and opportunities for growth. It’s also understanding that the road to success is paved with failures—that growing is an ongoing process that may take a lifetime. When we take the long-term view, we see that failure can be a moment of instruction and reflection and can serve to increase the likelihood of success. Failure is an important and necessary function of growth and is precisely the reason I didn’t call this practice See the Tree, Not Just the Seedling Only When People Make No Mistakes and Do Everything Right the First Time.
Allowing ourselves to see potential in others is also not about flattery—it’s not about being the rah-rah person who goes around giving everyone high fives and telling them they’re great. On the opposite end of the spectrum, seeing potential isn’t about continually correcting performance or focusing on all the risks and mistakes that stand in the way of someone’s potential. A colleague of mine once described feeling that his leader was running alongside of him, constantly telling him how to ride a bike: Don’t forget to wear a helmet, remember to look both ways, watch out for cars—you’re about to crash! It may feel like we’re being helpful, focusing on the negative to keep others from taking a spill, but we’re not. To see the potential in others requires us to believe that the seed, with the right kind of nourishment, will become the mighty oak.
Consider the following questions regarding how you think about others:
• Do you tend only to notice the weaknesses in others, or try to constantly encourage them to engage their strengths?
• Do you make it a point to catch people doing good things, or tend to wait to expose them when they fail?
• Do you encourage people to rise to new challenges, or discourage them from taking a risk?
• Do you jump in to correct at the first sign of failure, or give people time and opportunities to show what they can do?
AT THE HEART OF THESE QUESTIONS IS THE UNDERSTANDING THAT WE CAN ALL HAVE AN INFLUENCE ON EACH OTHER. I’M REMINDED OF A QUOTE ONCE SHARED WITH ME:
“IN EVERYONE’S LIFE, AT SOME TIME, OUR INNER FIRE GOES OUT.
“IT IS THEN BURST INTO FLAME BY AN ENCOUNTER WITH ANOTHER HUMAN BEING.”
—ALBERT SCHWEITZER
Let’s face it, the fact that you’re reading a book like this one (and not, say, The Narcissist’s Guide to Shameless Self-Promotion) says something about you; that is, you care about the relationships around you. I don’t know if your inner fire is burning brightly. What I do know is that there is power in seeing potential in others and, at that moment of contact—when one flame lights another—both end up shining a little brighter. It was this perspective I hoped to share with my colleague Rhonda.
• • •
“It’s as simple as that: Ava is the weak link on our team. She’s not pulling her weight, Todd, and I don’t know if she’s incapable or lazy or maybe both. But I do know she just doesn’t have what it takes to succeed, and while it may sound unfair, I’ve heard from others on my team that she’s basically worthless. She just doesn’t have the potential for this job.”
I sat back and considered Rhonda’s position. Certainly, I needed to be open to the fact that sometimes there are misalignments between people and their roles. But I wasn’t convinced a misalignment was the case, at least not yet. “So Rhonda, tell me about yourself,” I began.
Rhonda seemed surprised by the question. “Me . . .?”
“I mean, you’re one of the most efficient and effective people I know. Have you always been that way?”
“Not always,” she admitted. “But my mom . . . Now there was a lady who knew how to get things done. If you grew up in a house like that, you learned a few things—like setting high expectations for everything and everyone.”
I nodded. “It seems like that experience has served you well.”
“I suppose,” she offered guardedly, “but this isn’t about me.”
“No,” I replied. “But I wonder if Ava ever had a similar model to draw from?”
Rhonda stared at me blankly. “I honestly have no idea. And really, I’m not sure it matters.”
“Okay, fair enough,” I said. “But let me ask you about something you said. You indicated that members of your team referred to her as ‘worthless.’ I can’t imagine they meant she has no value as a human being. Were they talking about her value in her role? I want to press you a little here; is that really true? Isn’t there anything she does right?”
Rhonda shrugged. “Well, of course there is. She’s pleasant enough with people. And to be fair, she has to work with some really strong personalities.”
“I’ve heard positive things from others about how easy she is to work with,” I said.
“Even so, we have numbers to hit,” Rhonda added. “She may be pleasant, but I need things to get done.”
“My understanding is that she moved the entire Certification Project online, and with no major glitches,” I added.
“Sure, eventually,” Rhonda said. “The problem isn’t really the quality of her work, it’s that I have to be on her all the time for her to get it finished.”
“So if I understand what you’re saying,” I continued, “Ava has good people skills and can do high-quality work. It’s just that she isn’t proactive, and you’re spending too much time managing her. Is that right, or am I missing something?”
“Sounds about right,” Rhonda admitted.
“And while Ava has areas in which she needs to improve, and you can’t continue to spend all your time following up on her, I don’t believe you are saying you’re unwilling to help people grow.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all.”
“I didn’t think so. I wonder if you would be open to something. Would it would be possible to take the next thirty days and put the past aside?” I offered. “I realize it sounds like we’re slowing down, but just hear me out. Ava is good with people and has some strong skills, but she needs coaching around being proactive. Let’s see what she may or may not be able to do. Worst case is that we’ve at least given it one last shot.”
“Coaching?” Rhonda pushed, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m suggesting we have a choice: We can either see Ava as being fundamentally flawed in this role, or see her as a person with untapped potential.”
“So, what are you suggesting?”
“That you have a conversation with her. Start by saying you can see Ava as being wildly successful in her role, but that something is standing in the way. Let her know that you value how easy she is to work with, and that you appreciate her capabilities on things like the Certification Project, but also let her know that you need her to be a lot more proactive. I suspect that you may even need to share with her what you mean by proactive. Give her some specific examples tied to her role. Because being proactive isn’t a natural strength of hers, she’ll benefit from you pointing out exactly what you mean.”
Rhonda thought it over and nodded. “I suppose I can do that.”
Four weeks later, Rhonda returned to my office. I knew she had been working with Ava and I was anxious to hear the results.
“So how is it going?” I asked.
“To be honest, it was a little awkward at first,” Rhonda admitted. “I suppose it says something about me needing to do a better job coaching each member of my team. But in the end, I took your advice. I told Ava I saw potential in her and that there was something standing in the way. I also did as you suggested and shared a time when I was given some tough feedback. And although it stung a little, I was ultimately able to make some changes that served me well throughout my career.”
“And how did she take it?”
“Well, I realized about halfway through the conversation that I was doing all the talking and that she had shut down. So I stopped and asked what was important to her in her role and career. It ended up being a great discussion, and she really opened up. Anyway, we talked about how being proactive would help her achieve what she wanted while also addressing my concerns. And while I haven’t yet made up my mind, I’ve been impressed with how she’s starting to do certain things differently. Not perfectly, but she’s made some pretty drastic improvements.”
“So where is your thinking now around letting her go?”
“Again, she’s not where she needs to be, but she is off to a great start. I’m hopeful that things will continue to get better and better.”