Head Tilt #66: "I murdered my grandmother this morning."

Alexa, are you listening?

 

“I murdered my grandmother this morning.”

 

That’s what Franklin D. Roosevelt reportedly murmured to each guest he met in a long receiving line when he was president.

 

He wanted to test whether or not people actually listened to him.

 

Most people smiled. Some said, “thank you” and others said, “How kind.”

 

Only one retorted, “I’m sure she had it coming to her.”

 

(Originally reported in 1954, even Snopes can’t prove or disprove this story.)

 

How do you know if someone is listening to you?

 

I have a Spidey-sense for it. I tune into the timing of comments, the sound of clicking of keyboards through the phone, and the disjointed auto-responses.

 

I’m known to stop talking and ask, “Is this not a good time? I feel like you’re distracted.” (My poor husband!)

 

I also think I’m pretty good at covering it up when I’m the one who is not listening. Watch me slyly Google the weather in Scotland while a friend details her frustration with the barista who gave her almond milk when she ordered oat.

 

No matter how good I am at deceiving the speaker, it’s not cool.

 

Research of more than 3,600 professionals at all levels from 30 countries concluded that those who tout their excellent listening skills are the same ones who also confess to multitasking and “tuning out” during conference calls.

 

Another study of students in grades one through 12 (think ages 6 through 18) determined that listening declines with age.

 

What?! I am way past age 18, so it’s safe to say I’m in trouble. We all are. 

 

As defined by the International Listening Association, listening is “the process of receiving, constructing meaning from and responding to spoken and/or nonverbal messages.” 

It’s complex. 

It takes time. 

It takes effort.

 

And it’s one of the most valuable skills we can hone.

 

If we don’t spend more time improving our skills, soon Amazon’s Alexa might be the only one who is listening.

 

 

This post is part of a series that is inspired by (and partially lifted from) my business communication textbook, It’s All of Our Business, co-authored by Dan Rothwell and published by Oxford University Press, 2022.

Photo by Anete Lusina from Pexels

Head Tilt #65: Check ego

 

This inside of my car, Jedi-the-Jetta

It was love at first sight. 😍

 

I saw the “check ego” sticker on the bumper of a car I was driving behind.

 

Since I know that everything gets messy when one’s ego is out of check, I had to have the sticker.

 

I easily found it online and ordered a few.

 

As I set to put one on my car I thought,

 

“Wait a minute… who am I to tell others (through my bumper sticker wisdom) to check their egos? Isn’t that a rather egotistical thing to do?”

 

YUP.

 

I am the one who needs to “check ego.” 

 

So for years, I’ve put one of these stickers on the dash of my car. It’s placed prominently where I can see it.

 

✅ Check engine

✅ Check oil

✅ Check ego

 

The sticker reminds me to check my ego not only when driving, but all of the time. Left unchecked, my ego can cause a lot of chaos, on the road and off.

 

My ego:

 

·     Has insatiable cravings for more/better/best

·     Is a very poor communicator

·     Doesn’t play well with others

·     Plays defense before the game even starts

·     Has an over-inflated sense of self

·     Loves confirmation bias

·     Has no idea how to be kindful 😳

 

And my ego gets me in trouble

every

single

time

I don’t keep it in check.

 

With humility and kindness, I encourage you to play a good offense.

If you can relate to any of this post —the next time you check your engine and check your oil—maybe check your ego as well. ❤️

Head Tilt #64: Do the hustle

This post is in memory of Kip Allen 12/26/46 - 08/30/21

I was 18 and fresh out of high school. Uncertain what I wanted to do with my life, where I wanted to do it, and, most importantly, who the heck I wanted to be, I enrolled in my hometown's university to bide some time. 

The small college town I grew up in had exactly three bars: The artsy-alternative bar, the DJ/dancing bar, and the Cheers-type bar, where everyone really did know your name. I was 18, had zero bartending experience, and still, I was the perfect combination of ignorance and arrogance-- I applied to work at the latter. 

Kip Allen, owner of the Edinboro Hotel Bar in Edinboro, Pennsylvania, hired me on the spot. I think he reasoned that if he hired a hometown kid at age 18, there was a good chance I'd stay at the bar all through my undergrad education. Because I lived in town, I wouldn't go home for college breaks such as summer or holidays, because, well, home was two miles away. 

And he was right. I stayed put and tended bar all four years of college. 

I had an absolute blast!

Many of my best memories from college come from working at the bar. At age 18, ineligible to drink legally, I was introduced to a whole new world. 

I still laugh at the idea that I'd go to class during the day and serve my professors draft beer during happy hour. 

When I came across my high-school vice-principal one happy hour,  I asked him what I should call him now that I was serving him beer. "Asshole" was his reply. 😆 (He wasn't, by the way!)

I learned as much working at the bar as I did in college.  

Along with learning how to make cocktails, I learned how to

• go with the flow
• provide service with a smile
• tell a good joke
• be assertive
• lighten up
• lift heavy things (carrying two cases of beer at a time up a rickety staircase was a lot!)
• deal with drunks
• laugh off advances

and much more.

But the best thing I learned was how to hustle. 

    HUSTLE verb. hus-tled, hus-tling to proceed or work rapidly or energetically

Kip told me that no matter what I did upon graduation, I could tell any interviewer that working at the bar taught me how to hustle. 

And he was right. 

With ease, I could transition from having an empty bar to serving a line of people that went out the door.

I could navigate my way around a sea of tipsy customers, all with different demands, demeanors, and drink requests.

And on Homecoming weekend each fall-- the busiest, best time of the year- I summoned more hustler's energy than I knew existed. I could work back-to-back jam-packed shifts on less than four hours of sleep, only to join in the fun when my shifts were done.

(I still tap into that reservoir of energy when needed!)

I've taken the skill of hustling into every professional experience I've had since. It's something no college professor or class could teach me, but Kip could. 

Kip passed away last month. He was a wonderful man and one of the best bosses I ever had. I will always be grateful for the person who took a chance on a townie and taught her how to hustle. 💃

Here's to Kip 🍻

Rest in Peace, friend. ❤️

Head Tilt #63: Give trust to build trust

Beautiful, gentle Bowie ❤️

Bowie was on doggie death row. 

He had been abandoned at a shelter and was five hours from being executed euthanized. 

Then the coordinator of the fabulous foster organization I volunteer for rushed in, rescued him, and asked me if I could keep him until I found his forever home. 

How could I refuse that face? 

When I first met Bowie (who was nameless when he arrived), I was surprised to notice that he was as intimidated by me as I was by him. 

In appearance, he was a boxy brute. Inside though, he was a big dog playing small. He was broken, frightened, and he trusted no one. 

I didn't know his back story, but I knew I had to write a better future for Bowie. 

For that to happen, I needed to earn his trust.

To get Bowie to trust me, I had to extend trust to him. 

Instead of expecting any reciprocation of like, love or appreciation, I had to go first. 

It took vision, patience, kindness, treats (he loved cheese!), and commitment. 

About six days into fostering him, he wagged his tail. 

He wagged his tail! 

I still smile at the memory!

In the years that I taught Stephen M. R. Covey's Speed of Trust programs to leaders, I always included Bowie's picture in the slide deck and told his story. 

(I know we aren't dogs with broken spirits, but man-oh-man we can learn so much from dogs if we pay attention!)

Covey's research asserts that when it comes to building trust-- the one thing that changes everything--  leaders need to extend trust instead of simply expecting to be trusted.  

Leaders need to see potential. 

Leaders need to shelve their egos. 

Leaders need to go first.

"Extending trust is the ultimate act of leadership, the defining skill that transforms a manager into a leader."
 Stephen M. R. Covey

Extending trust isn't a blind trust, but rather what Covey calls a "smart trust." Smart trust minimizes risk while maximizing reward. It requires judgment, boundaries, and accountability. It can be scary. It can take time. And it can also change the entire dynamic of a relationship or team.

To extend trust:

• We model the way by being trustworthy. We talk straight, declare our intention, and do what we say we will do. Instead of simply spewing truths and calling it trust-building, we are mindful of the impact of our words and we choose the best ones for any situation. We adapt. 
• We gently hold others accountable and help them grow.
• We assume positive intent instead of defaulting to suspicion. 
• We prioritize trust. We talk about it, notice it, nurture it, build it, maintain it, and restore it when it wanes. 

It's just that simple. 

HA! 

Building, maintaining, and repairing trust is complex. We are complex! We have agendas, priorities, histories, and biases. I highly recommend that you read Speed of Trust for a much deeper, researched dive. Covey explains it all so well and lays out a step-by-step for leaders, teams, and companies to follow. 

But for now, think about this: 

Are you extending trust or sowing suspicion? 

To whom can you extend smart trust today? 

Are you willing to go first? 

As for Bowie, he's living the dream on a goat sanctuary with a wonderful family. His forever family sends me holiday pictures every year. ❤️