One afternoon I went to pick up Lauren from summer school. She was eight years old at the time and came running out breathlessly to tell me she had learned about bearded dragons in her reptile class and wanted one for a pet. I told her she would have to ask Mom and Dad. When Mom came home to the question and sweetly replied, “I don’t think so . . . not now,” I thought that was the end of it. Not quite.
Later that evening I retrieved a voice message on my phone from Lauren. I saved it, and here is what she said:
“Hi, Grandma! What would you say if we could keep the bearded dragon at your house in the kids’ room? Mom doesn’t want it at our house, so I thought I would ask if it could come to your house. I’ll come feed it every week and give it a bath once a month. I’ll take good care of it. I know it eats vegetables and sleeps in a large crate with a shoebox when he is in the car. If it is a girl, we can call her Jewel, and if it is a boy, Mike. And it could belong to all the grandchildren so they wouldn’t be left out. I talked to my friend who has one, and she told me all about them. I made notes. Please respond. Love, Lauren.”
I was amazed. Actually dumbfounded. In that one message she worked her negotiating skills, identifying the obstacle and problem-solving, then listing solutions and benefits. Then she asked for the order. Wow! Camp Grandma might be working too well.
All along I’d intended to pass on what I’d learned in my life to lend my grandchildren a head start in theirs. Yet this many years into Camp Grandma and still I was learning too, learning from my grandkids. I was reminded of the childlike qualities within us that are at the heart of being successful in life, personally and professionally. If we lose them in adulthood, our grandchildren can help us regain them. There are quite a few things we can learn from children. (Corporate America, are you listening?) There’s a case to be made for that bearded dragon, as Lauren demonstrated—that raw authenticity that once came naturally to us. Playful, hopeful, imaginative, curious; surely in the working world, we could find a way to accommodate those natural ways of being.
Here are just a few of the lessons we can learn from our grandchildren.
We are born creative thinkers in the making, and when we are young and inexperienced we enjoy the advantage of dreaming big. But as adults, we frequently have to be reminded to think outside the box because we have learned to limit ourselves. By focusing only on the obvious, what we have come to know and expect, we set our own roadblocks, convinced we will fail before we even begin. But what if we took some cues from children and were open-minded and daring enough to think big? We could actually change our reality. We start by simply believing we can.
I get to the believing part through visualization. What is the old adage? Seeing is believing. I remember as a young girl imagining myself as a cheerleader. I saw myself in the outfit and in front of the bleachers long before I actually was. And when my husband and I found a house we loved (way out of our price range), I saw myself in the home, living there. Four years later it was ours, not by some magic but by establishing a goal and picturing ourselves in the future. There is power in our thoughts and imagination, and in believing anything is possible. Children are something of a role model to us, a reminder that human beings are born to harness that power for good and make dreams a reality.
One day I went to open the front door for Jack and his family. It just so happened I was wearing an apron. Jack came in and whispered in my ear, “That’s not a good look for you, Grandma.” I don’t think I’ve worn an apron since.
You never know what children are going to say because their thoughts remain unfiltered until they’re socialized to be polite, circumspect, and so forth. My grandchildren are unaware of the “PC police,” and they speak from their hearts. They already know not to be disrespectful or make hurtful or rude remarks, yet they speak truthfully without fear of censorship or judgment. I treasure their freedom of expression and prize their authenticity. In an effort to be more empathetic and sensitive, I’m afraid we adults are sometimes guilty of overcorrection and control our messages to the extreme.
We walk a fine line to be courteous, thinking surely there is a way to be forthright while remaining civil. There is value in learning the social graces and even more value in balancing them with honesty and authenticity, which creates trust.
This directly relates to reputation. From my years in business, I learned that your reputation is all you really have at the end of the day. And a good reputation is trust maintained consistently over a long period of time. Others remember you for your integrity, ethics, and moral standards more than they do for any title you achieved or money you received.
One of my proudest moments came when I worked for the Yellow Pages selling advertising. In the same year I earned both the Top Producer Award for the company nationwide for having the highest sales volume and also simultaneously earned its President’s Award, honoring the sales associate with the lowest decrease and cancellation rates along with the lowest complaint rate. To win both awards at the same time—highest sales along with lowest errors and complaints—was a first in the company. It had never happened before.
So the idea that you can’t play by the rules and get ahead is a cop-out. Sure it takes hard work, perseverance, and commitment to be successful. But let’s not forget how we started out as kids when we weren’t conditioned to be anything else but honest and authentic. By combining all these behaviors, you are sure to like who you see in the mirror looking back.
Children ask a lot of questions, and we can learn something from that. How many of us think we know all the answers when, in fact, we don’t even know what questions to ask? What happens to our curiosity as we get older? Children remind us that curiosity is a form of vitality we need to retain. Curiosity can lead you to developing empathy and compassion as well if you listen attentively to the answers your questions solicit.
Even outside of a learning or business environment, asking the right question is a basic skill in good communication and can help not only in gaining information but also in building stronger relationships. How many times have you been with a group of people and left the experience without even one person asking about you, your job, or your family? Now turn that around and remember how you felt when someone asked you questions and actually expressed an interest in you. It made a difference, right? We might all be better off if we were more curious and asked more questions. I actually credit my success in sales and management to my ability to front-load my interactions with clients and colleagues with questions.
There is a modification to the Golden Rule (Do unto others as you would have them do unto you) that I’ve come to prefer after spending time with my grandchildren, and it’s Do unto others as they would have you do unto them. Instead of thinking about behavior based on our own perspective (needs or wants), change the focus to others. Treat people not as you want to be treated but as they want to be treated. Consider what might be important to them and act accordingly. If you don’t know, then ask more questions. We can be authentic without being rude or abrasive. We can take a stand and express ourselves but be mindful that others may see it differently. If we can be more open and respectful of our differences, whether they’re cultural or political, we might come to better understand ourselves and the world in which we live.
I learned a valuable lesson in school when I was on the debate team (which gives me an idea for another Camp Grandma activity). We were given a topic but not told what side of the debate we would address until the day of the contest. We had to be able to argue either side. I love this. We really have no right to a position on anything without understanding the other side, do we? Children have it all over us on this one because they ask questions all the time.
So when you feel bombarded by questions from your grandchildren, stop and value the importance of what they are doing. They are seeking information and learning to listen, to weigh and assess the answers, and to accommodate diversity. Curiosity and asking questions could become a valuable lifelong habit. We would be wise to follow their lead by asking them a question or two.
The other half of asking questions is actually the more important half, and children win hands down on this one too. Objectivity is one advantage of childhood; carrying very little baggage, children start off open-minded and nonjudgmental. They don’t have preconceived notions regarding the messages they are receiving, nor do they stubbornly hold on to their own position or opinion when they stand corrected. There is no ego to contend with at a young age. Hallelujah! Being a good listener is essential if you want to be a good leader—or a good anything else for that matter.
Just listening at all is a start these days. Is it my imagination or are adults listening less and less? I suspect it is a consequence of the pace we lead, continually pressed to work and move faster, technology driving our momentum. We’re growing increasingly impatient, whether driving in traffic or waiting for a slow Internet connection. No one has time. No one has a moment to waste. So is it any surprise that we interrupt when someone is talking and finish the person’s sentences (since we assume we know what will be said next)?
Maybe that’s another reason I like to spend time with my grandchildren. It is great to have a conversation with them—they actually wait to hear what I will say next.
Nothing is as strong as vulnerability. No improvement or advancement is possible unless we have the courage to take risks, tell hard truths, and admit to lack of knowledge or a mistake we made. Children live with open hearts and embrace vulnerability. They have no image to protect. Spending time with my grandchildren has reminded me of this.
Being vulnerable is an opportunity for growth. Getting past our hang-ups in feeling we always have to be strong and confident, we can open ourselves to what is possible. People regard us as stronger when we share our fears and challenges, when we ask for and receive help from others, and when we take responsibility for missteps and apologize. This is because vulnerability takes courage and a level of self-confidence. Children are brave until we unintentionally give them millions of reasons not to be.
“Hey, Grandma, keep up!” the kids call out as we walk down the street. I quicken my pace, glad for the prompt (people pay good money to an exercise coach for this service). I shift my focus from my arthritic knees and move faster to catch up. Feeling the burn—just another benefit of hanging out with the young.