Acknowledging mistakes

When I was a teenager, a high school friend admonished me for saying “sorry” several times throughout the day. Apologizing came naturally to me then, but it was based mostly on my lack of confidence rather than a real need to apologize for everything I did that was a little off. Fast forward to a few months ago, when the scheduler of a virtual meeting was MIA for her own meeting. My teammate and I waited in the cyber room for 20 minutes, then called it quits.

No big deal—managing one’s own calendar can be tricky, especially if participants are spread across the US. I sent her a quick email suggesting that we reschedule for the following week.

I was struck by her response, though—a couple of lines explaining how and why she had lost track of time and missed signing in. She never really owned the mistake.

I can remember numerous instances through the years where mistakes and follow-up communication have varied. A special education director would regularly show up for a scheduled observation several minutes late and would proceed as if she had not missed the first part of the lesson. Someone we contract with to rent out our house responded to a concern where we noted a mishap in a photograph taken of our home. A painting, instead of hanging in its usual spot on the wall, sat on the floor. When we asked what had happened, he said, “it became dislodged.” Both of these instances seemed to lack the basic courtesy of acknowledging a mistake.

During my tenure as a school administrator, staff would come to me to share a mistake they had made, for example, in a communication with a parent or the student himself. Many would apologize profusely, while others would spend the bulk of the meeting sharing copious amounts of details supporting their wrong-doing. Understanding why a mistake was made is important, but it doesn’t constitute an apology: it just feels like justification.

Like most of us, I have mis-stepped many times. I am reasonably comfortable with acknowledging my mistakes and I typically apologize readily. But HOW I apologize matters.

My take-away: In most instances, responding to a mistake requires a two-line answer: the first acknowledging that a mistake has been made and the second apologizing for it. This communication should be voiced rather than written, but in some cases, following up with a written note can be valuable. Our desired end result should be to acknowledge and then move past the error, learn from it, and not repeat it.

Unintended Consequences

In the social sciences, unintended consequences are outcomes that are not the ones foreseen and intended by a purposeful action.

That’s the Wikipedia definition. Let’s look at how unintended consequences play out in the workplace.

I was working with a team of leaders in an organization where some reconfiguration had occurred. In typical workplace fashion, decisions had been made unilaterally by upper management, and information about the changes had not been communicated effectively downstream. We spent the better part of a meeting deliberating about what had happened and I’ll admit, most of the talk was negative.

To bring the conversation around to something more productive, I asked my colleagues to start focusing on what they thought might be the unintended consequences of the decisions that had been made. Shifting our focus, I hoped, would help us generate solutions to the issues we were facing.

There are many examples of unintended consequences in history: eliminating a “pest” animal only to find that it served an important purpose in the ecosystem; positioning one curb cut at the corner of a sidewalk as a cost saver, making positioning for a safe crossing challenging for a person who is blind. We often talk about unintended consequences in relation to government regulations and environmental impact. But what do they have to do with leadership?

There are three potential effects of a decision or action that might be unintended:

·      Unexpected benefits

·      Unexpected drawbacks

·      Perverse results

In special education, I saw unexpected benefits to practices that I had initially deemed problematic. For example, a student who was perfectly capable of finding her way between classes held onto the cart that held her gear as a student pulled it along. At first I admonished her for being dependent on her classmate, until she told me that the opportunity to chat during the exercise was helping her make friends.

Of course there are many examples of unexpected drawbacks. A blindness organization chose black coffee cups as give-aways for their marketing campaign, not considering that pouring black coffee into a black cup was difficult for those with low vision. Another organization created an internal marketing campaign around a “promise” that backfired because they didn’t understand the organization’s skeptical culture.

Perverse results are those that have the opposite effect of the intended action. In the ‘80s when deinstitutionalization was in full swing, a well-meaning colleague suggested that children with multiple disabilities who were moving into public school classrooms should be given beanbag chairs and radios as an effective educational model.  Thankfully, her suggestion was overridden by those who actually understood best practice for these students.

So what do unintended consequences have to do with leadership? A lot.

I have been surprised by how little leaders seem to consider unintended consequences. As I moved into increasingly complex leadership positions, I learned to ask those in the trenches what consequences might occur if a certain change took place. I also learned to list potential consequences when making a decision—both positive and negative, in a balance sheet analysis.

For example, an announcement trumpeting a leader’s promotion is best not made on the heels of one about minimal salary increases for those working frontline. Or this one:  After a company-wide “Trust” survey showed unrest and distrust in the company’s leadership, a communication went out that the executive team had heard the concerns and would be communicating soon about their plans to improve… and then failed to follow up. Intentions were good in both scenarios, but each further eroded the relationship between leadership and staff. 

Think about the results of your actions. Think about the impression you are making. And make the effort to identify and then address anything that will negatively impact others. While you can’t mitigate all unintended consequences, getting ahead of them with respect and communication will make you a better leader and help those around you appreciate their jobs AND you.

On Being New: Snapshots

One of the most frequent complaints I hear about newcomers is their tendency to draw conclusions too quickly. They see one snapshot of a situation and assume they understand what is going on. We all do this—it’s called first impressions. But for a new leader or someone new to an organization or position, it is a risky habit. Acting on or sharing information taken from one encounter can lead to all sorts of problems, including the immediate erosion of trust.

What sorts of snapshots are we talking about? One comes upon all sorts of situations on school campuses or at the office that, taken by themselves, seem off. If I come upon a student-staff situation, for example, where a student is clearly struggling, I am more likely to ask the staff member if he/she needs assistance, rather than jumping into a situation I don’t understand. If I see an employee hanging out in the hall on a personal call when there’s a meeting room waiting for his/her arrival, I wonder what’s going on. But I don’t report the behavior to someone else or interrupt their call unless I have grasped the full picture.

In the world of blindness education, I’ve encountered many student-staff interactions that have caused me to raise an eyebrow. “Human guide” that looks more like “human push.” Staff speaking for students instead of allowing them the time to speak for themselves. A white cane that is bent and too short for the student to use properly. Certainly I’ve watched administrators and staff become lulled over time, setting up an environment where little is expected. But acting on each behavior or situation that seems amiss can be just as damaging.

I stepped into one leadership position where my predecessor had repeatedly acted on snapshots. How do I know this? Because it was the first thing staff shared with me when I started touring programs. This leader’s behavior had left a lasting impression on staff that they projected onto me—I was viewed as suspicious in this well-established organization before I even opened my mouth.

It is natural that you will develop impressions of the people and circumstances within your job. But should you comment on or intervene as each incident unfolds?

It seems like our intentions as new leaders will most certainly be misunderstood.  But there is a relatively simple approach one can take, and it has four parts.

1.     Take your snapshot. Observe and reflect on what you think you have seen, heard, or observed.

2.     File that snapshot away in your brain as one data point, and as you see other examples, add them to the file. Perhaps the other examples will confirm or contradict the first example.

3.     Ask questions or gain further information about the situation(s) you observed. Make sure you ask in a way that is respectful and genuinely curious, and do it in private if you can. Aim to get the whole picture.

4.     Act on the observation if and when it rises to a level of concern. Continue to revisit the issue as you make further observations so that your actions are appropriate and effective.

It’s not hard to understand the harm one can do by jumping to conclusions, and yet this is an error nearly everyone who is new makes—sometimes repeatedly. I recently heard an interim minister reflect on his first weeks at his new church. The first thing he shared was that the art on display (portraits of past members, landscapes, etc.) were outdated and did not seem important. He proposed taking things down temporarily while developing a process for reviewing and prioritizing what would be hung where.  

Really? I thought. That’s all he’s got? The congregation is reeling with change after enjoying one leader for over thirty years and he zeros in on what’s on the walls? Let’s just say that I did not feel particularly supportive of the new guy based on his decision to share this relatively inconsequential issue.

The point is to take on the things that are a priority, not just pick out whatever seems amiss to you at the moment. And do so thoughtfully, after you’ve listened, learned, and decided what is most important. What you take on doesn’t have to be the biggest or the hardest thing, either—it just needs to be important in some way. As a new leader, you don’t want to be labeled as reactive or insensitive. Ask your questions. Listen to the answers. Then begin forming your plan.

On Decision-Making: Beyond Black and White

When I began my position as the interim principal of a school for the blind, I expressed concern that I was not prepared to manage student discipline or behavior. My experience up to that point had primarily been as an itinerant teacher, and discipline was not within my purview. “There’s an extensive discipline policy,” I was told. Don’t worry. Just follow the policy.

I did just that, following the policy to a T. Under my leadership, police were called anytime an encounter involved a student hitting another. We frequently suspended students, requiring parents or districts to travel long distances to take them home. Much of this did not sit well with me, and I wondered if we were doing the right thing.

During my leadership journey, I did my best to follow each organization’s policies precisely, fairly, and consistently. It wasn’t until I crossed into my fourth state and began applying my knowledge of special education and human resource law there that I started to wonder if policy was an exact science. How was it, if the rules were clear and steadfast, that different agencies and schools applied the rules in different ways?

One example sticks out. In one state, I asked for the files of past Child Protective Services cases shortly after I began working there. People seemed confused by my request, but I finally got the information. I was astonished by how few CPS calls had been made and learned that if abuse was suspected, a school employee would first call the parents to get further information. There is one law whose intent is clear: taking the reporter out of the equation allows the system to investigate allegations without bias and without implicating the reporter. Black and white application of the law is important, but was not followed in this case.

At the same time I found that this school’s discipline policies allowed for consideration of what was best for the student—how the student would learn best from the school’s discipline policy. Overall I was surprised by the flexibility but also impressed by the results staff were getting with their approach.

These seemingly contradictory approaches to the application of policy illustrate just how challenging decision-making can be for a leader. I’ve learned to apply a few tests to complex issues requiring decisions that I’d like to share here. 

The first recommendation is probably the most important: What are the unintended consequences of the decision?

For example, does the presence of a police officer on campus for relatively small infractions change the behavior of the students involved or other students in the school? And my favorite: was a student’s propensity for lying best handled by a suspension or through a behavior plan that helped him find alternatives to that habit?  

Does disallowing an employee to take paid time off to be with a dying relative in another state set a bad precedent for others to abuse policy, or does it allow him or her to manage a tough situation in a healthy way? Leaders have pocketsful of stories where they are confronted with decision-making like this, and following policy without consideration of surrounding circumstances is almost never the answer.

My second recommendation might seem obvious, but is one I’ve seen few people follow. Attempt to answer this question: What have others done in similar situations and how can that inform a decision for this situation? In an earlier blog, I referenced finding a village. The leadership stone here is simple: find a group of trusted colleagues with whom you can talk to about complex issues. Those folks need to be able to reflect honestly on your issues—to help you see where your buttons are and who is pushing them. And those who have tackled similar problems can give you feedback on what worked—and what didn’t. Most importantly, your village members need to people you can trust not only to give honest and wise feedback, but also to keep the discussion to themselves.

Black and white makes a striking outfit. But remember—tuxedos are mostly for show. Black and white application of policy may look good to outsiders, but a nuanced approach will likely have a better outcome.

On Finding your Village

You’ve taken the course, read the book, applied the technique. You’re convinced that this tool, this skill or methodology is the bomb, and that other leaders should follow suit. You find the perfect example of its brilliance to share with colleagues and then… nothing.

 Early in my teaching career I was trying to build energy around an idea I had for moving the rural school I was working at forward. I shared my frustration with a colleague who was also relatively new to her job but not to the field. She said to me, “Honey, you’ve got to find your village.” In a school of 120 students in a part of the state I had just relocated to, it was hard to think in terms of villages. But she was right: wherever you are in your career path, finding others who are like-minded or similarly motivated is critical.

 Finding one’s village today is much easier than it was in 1982. Tools abound to help us connect with others with similar interests or aspirations. Apps like MeetUp allow us to plug our interests and location into a search bar and peruse local groups that we might join. Online communities ranging from listservs to more updated venues like Slack are designed to bring together groups of people with common interests in order to work toward a common goal.

 A village of two can work as well as one of 20 when there is a specific goal in mind. I remember vividly the first time I sat among principals of schools for the blind—astonished and proud to be with people who “got” what I did. I left that meeting renewed by our common experiences.

Working alone is important for deep thinking, writing, and completing administrative tasks. It allows one to reflect on problems and ponder one’s progress. But many tasks are best suited for a group of some kind, especially one that is motivated and comes with lots of experience and a willingness to share. Find your village, dear leader. You will build skills impossible to attain on your own… and you will sleep better each night knowing you belong to a tribe that has your back and will propel you forward.