Several days ago, our six-year-old daughter brought home her most recent Report Card.

The 'Academic Subjects' include Math, Science, Social Studies, Language Composition, Reading, and Spelling.

The 'Fine Arts & Specials' include Art, Music, Spanish, and Physical Education.

And then there are a dozen or so 'Life Skills' that include things like 'Accepts Responsibility, Demonstrates Organization, Exhibits a Positive Attitude,' and so forth.

She brought it home as she always does, given she is in First Grade... with beaming hope and curiosity, not knowing what it means or how she did.  Ah, the innocence of youth.  Soon enough, the world will clamp down upon her, and Report Cards will become more than they ever should be; they will become perversely internalized -- as they are by too many -- as a measure of one's own worth.  I did that; perhaps you did too.  Get straight A's, and all is right with the world.  Get a C, and the end is near.

So there we stand, all three of us in the kitchen.  My daughter has placed the Report Card on the kitchen table, that her mother and I will review and interpret it.  And so we do.

My eyes scan the categories.  Making sense of them, I then scan down the columns, quickly taking in the grades.  97, 98, 99, 96, 97, 99, 97...

Fixating first (and solely) on the 96, I say into the face of my beaming daughter, "96.  Talk to me about 'Language Composition.'  What's going on there?"

And so we talk for a few minutes about this lowest grade.

After a few minutes, my wife elbows me in the ribs.  Clearing her throat, she looks at Lauren and exuberates, "Wow, you're doing really great.  You must be enjoying yourself; just look at all these awesome scores!"

See the difference?  (Just recounting it makes me feel so ashamed of myself.)

I, like most people, fixated immediately on the 'lowest marks' and the 'perceived failures,' working immediately to understand them, in hopes that they might be improved or repaired.  (As if a 96 in First Grade is anything worrisome.)

My wife, however, focused on the exemplarity of Lauren's scores, affirming and encouraging her.  (One can see so readily how the slippery slope of well-meaning but poorly executed 'parental Report Card reviews' begins.  Left to my own devices, I'm sure that by the 3rd grade, Lauren would twitch as she approached me... sheepishly handing me her Report Card with her eyes cast downward!)

Realizing my own error, I quickly caught on and joined my wife's tact and together we worked with Lauren to understand ALL of her Report Card.  By the end, she was indeed where any parent would like for his or her child to be: affirmed, encouraged, educated, and aware of the opportunities and strengths and prepared to address and extend them all.

The clarion irony is The Lesson Was On Me.

On a regular basis, I am teaching the lesson that my wife had to demonstrate for me; the very same lesson that Marcus Buckingham and countless others have written about.  From Selective Perception, Broken Windows Theory, and the Boiled Frog Phenomenon to the Pygmalion Effect, Target Fixation, and Chevreul's Pendulum... we see again and again the relationship between Vision, the Mind, and Behavior.  We know that we are to acknowledge and address shortcomings, but more importantly, that we should focus upon and extend strengths with great fervor, as these are indeed Talents that should not go unexploited.

Over the years, having supervised dozens of trainers, teachers, and consultants, I have seen all of them periodically deflated or devastated by 'course' or 'project evaluations' that were not 100% positive.  It's amazing (though totally understandable) to see a forty-year-old professional, adept to a zenith of near flawlessness, emotionally decimated by a handful of poor or low 'scores' received out of hundreds. 

Specifically, there is one course in particular which comes to mind that five of us team-teach twice annually.  This class generally has around 150 participants.  By way of a representative example, I recall the Friday evaluations after a long week of instruction a few years ago.  One of my colleagues received a '5' (perfect score) from 138 participants.  A handful of the remaining scores were 4's, and there was one 2 and one 1. 

That's amazing.  92% of the participants perceived this instructor as Excellent... essentially without demerit.  7% perceived him as Above Average.  Approximately 1% of the participants were critical.

In short, the instructor blew the socks off nearly everyone.  A few important outliers disagreed, yes, but that's it.

In my book, that's irrefutable success, because to my way of thinking, when an instructor gets perfect 5's across the board, he or she is not taking enough risks.  Not challenging the students.  Not questioning them, pushing back, calling them on the carpet.  Not probing their paradigms or pushing for change.  Generally, he or she is 'entertraining...' performing a well-rehearsed routine or shtick, playing for some broad laughs along the way, but not really consulting.  I've seen it far too often.  A student provides an anemic answer (however well-intentioned it may be), and the instructor congratulates him rather than converting it into a teachable moment. 

Or a facilitator refuses to deviate from the pre-printed lesson plan, thereby missing the real-time moments to address immediate and expressed needs.  Any material exists only to serve us, not the other way around.  The most powerful sessions I've ever attended were often those during which the facilitator took a risk and said, "Tell you what.  I'm observing all sorts of issues that our planned agenda won't address.  Out the window it goes; let's get real with each other and start over.  Where shall we begin?"  This responsiveness differentiates professionals from amateurs, so don't be hard on yourself when improvising; it's the hallmark of a good teacher. 

When entertraining, the entire potential of a given course is essentially betrayed by the pursuit for comfort, likability, popularity, fun, appeasement, and accommodation.  (Limited learning occurs, but the instructor sure was cool!)  And when sticking so closely to a training script as to not deviate when necessary, a teacher misses untold extemporaneous opportunities to meet students where they are.  ("I didn't resolve any pressing needs, but at least I covered all my slides and the pages in the binder.  Yea me!")   

Mark Twain wrote, "If we both agree, one of us is unnecessary."

Differences of opinion are the starting point of knowledge, and it is through the expression of varying perceptions that we grow and learn from one another.

The key, as my wife gently prodded me while reviewing the Report Card, is to retain perspective.  To see beyond the outliers or perceived deficiencies to the massive trend of successes and strengths.

My conscientious instructor, the one who received poor feedback from 1% of our participants, called me on Saturday after our long flight home.  I was exhausted and recuperating, and his voice sounded thin and tired like mine.  "I've been thinking," he began.  "Do you think I'm really cut out to do this?  I feel that I failed you.  The team.  The client, even."

"Oh, my.  No, no, no, no," I responded.  "Listen, it may take you several days and one unicorn success to put this behind you.  I understand; I've been there, too.  Anyone who tries has.  The short answer is: 92% success is not failure.  I'm proud of you; you were superb.  You invested the hours to prepare, you had your A-game on, and just because a few people didn't fall in love with you does not approximate, in any conscionable way, a failure."

We spoke for quite a while.  It took some time to talk him off the ledge he had wandered upon.  It wasn't until he had succeeded 'wildly and on his own terms' some days later that he regained his confidence.

Participants, managers, employees, spouses... individuals of all sorts and stripes can be very critical and judgmental.  They are not to be faulted, as it's human nature to judge others.  We come by it quite naturally, though that does not make it right. 

Sit 100 people down in front of a flipchart pad with a small blue dot on it, and what will 99 people say they see?  "A blue dot."

How many will say, "I see a whole lot of white space, and a blue dot."  About 1 in 100.  (Try it; you'll see.)

One of our responsibilities as leaders is to demonstrate grace, understanding, and humility.  We are all flawed, horrifically so.  And we all rely mutually on one another to succeed.  Today's economic environment is difficult enough; employees don't need another knife in their back.  Learn from my mistakes and be better -- be a constructive conduit, not a critic.  Give people the benefit of the doubt, and realize that the appropriate and logical slack you cut another for his or her human-ness is the slack you'll desire for yourself one day.

My final encouragement to you is to realize the vast capacity and successes of yourself and those around you; to acknowledge the A's (and affirm them) and keep the C's in perspective.  Don't let your shortcomings consume your magnificence.

If any of us is expected to achieve 100% perfection, I can guarantee a life of misery and unslakeable thirst that contorts one's existence into a twist of perpetual disappointment like the ouroboros... the snake always consuming its own tail.

Be lifted, as I have been by those who love, coach, and care for me along the way.  Work to improve your shortcomings, as we all must, but take great joy in your talents, gifts, and successes.  Life is rife with joy-robbers and critics, but as Teddy Roosevelt reminded us:

I don't know about you, but there are times -- times in the nooks and crannies of a given month, whether while waiting for an airplane or returning from a stretch break in the office -- that I can find myself utterly perplexed and overwhelmed by the 'online social networking sites' I have been 'encouraged' to join... or perhaps more accurately, pseudo-ordered to join, lest I risk being seen as a 4th generation Luddite.

I am both too old to invest more-than-partially in a social networking presence, and too young to admit full and utter defeat resulting from the sense of having felt 'passed' by the phenomenon.

Moreover, it's difficult for me -- and perhaps many of us -- to manage our many 'online and technology-based' identities.  By this, I don't mean anything lurid or second-identity-ish, but rather, the simple reality of remembering all my User IDs, Log-Ins, and various Account Passwords.

I mean, seriously. 

Think about it for a minute.

I'm sure you're no different; you likely have the very same issues and challenges.

1) I have an AOL Account (maybe yours is gmail, yahoo, hotmail, netzero, mac)... a Screen Name and Password.  (Five actually, each created since 1994 or so... and each representing different 'phases of life' or whatever.  Today, I have sloughed-off four of them, sticking to just one now for the past few years.)

2) I have my Outlook Account for the office and my 'professional' life.  It, expectedly, has a unique User Name and Password.

3) Being told perhaps two years ago that 'Linked In' was the 'professional's Facebook,' I obliged and created a User Name and Account and completed a full-blown profile there, though I seldom check it.  People often Link In to me, but I must admit, the tangible value of the presence is highly fuzzy.

4) Being ping'd (e.g., 'friended') repeatedly by others to "Join my Plaxo Network," I again obliged so I could simply respond to them and, subsequently... I have a User Name, Password, and maybe even a profile as well, though I haven't checked Plaxo in months.

5) I have my Cell Phone, which leads to lots of 'Voicemail checking' that we all do throughout the day.

6) We have our Office Phone, which requires more Voicemail checking.

7) There's the Home Phone, which periodically gets backed-up with all sorts of calls.

8) And there's MySpace and Twitter, neither of which I have ever visited, partially because I don't entirely know what they are (sorry/eeeek/forgive me), and partially because the pervading water-cooler-reputation of each is that they are more 'adolescent.'  This, despite my realization that MySpace has over 120 Million monthly site visitors and even more members.  I suspect that I am indeed a troglodyte, having abstained from joining yet another community, and clearly the biggest.

9) And finally, the coup de grace, Facebook.  Which I very stubbornly refused to join... quite successfully, in fact, until earlier this week when I was informed that "to not have a Facebook account is equivalent to lacking a cell phone; at some point you're simply out of touch."  Well, okay then.  I relent.  So, voila, another online presence and profile to maintain.  Or avoid.  And goodness, this one's needy!  It has all sorts of Info and Wall Graffiti and the like that could very well take over a universe like weeds.  I'm not sure what, precisely, the site is about... and so my 'overwhelmed-ness' grows.

I yearn for the day when "the Internet 2.0" or whatever my guru friends are describing actually comes true.  A day when my 'online identity or presence' can be carried with me wherever I go; exported, imported, plugged and played into whatever and wherever I am. 

I would much prefer to have just one online Portal, rather than these half-dozen sources of 'presence' and 'messaging' that make checking notes the equivalent of some masochistic and labyrinthine Easter Egg hunt.  (I have a difficult enough time locating my car keys.)

I recollect, with great nostalgia now, the simple mustard-yellow wall-phone in the kitchen of my childhood.  The one with the twenty-feet-long cord that my sister would twirl around her fingers as she sat and talked just around the corner on the shag-carpet in the living room.

If it were a couple decades ago, and I were in college again, I am certain that MySpace and Facebook would hold much allure for me and my cohorts.  After all, they would serve a real utilitarian function!  "I'm going to the library," one might write.  "Find me in the southeast corner of the fourth floor."  And then, one could Twitter his or her way there, iPhoning or Same-Timing or Texting or Beaconing or Looped-ing or GPS'ing until arrival.  And sneak in the requisite shake or snack or slice of pizza. 

But alas, high school and university life are decades behind me now, and I doubt very much that a colleague wants to know, in real-time, that "I am stepping away from my desk and will be in the Break Room if you need me."  Or, "I will be in Terminal D at Gate 7 for the next 2 hours if you need me."  Or, worse, "I will be replying to emails for the next hour, please Twitter me and we'll IM!"

I read an interesting article earlier this week, probably the culprit for today's rant.  It described one of the benefits (?) of online presence: "Ambient Awareness."  This idea that we are constantly aware of others' comings and goings and, as a result, when we see them -- we're largely 'up to speed!'

Hmmmm.

I'm not sure if I like that.

After all, part of the fun of reconnecting with an old friend, a former colleague, or a long-ago client is the very process of catching-up.  The inquiry.  The, "So, what have you been up to these past eight years?"  That DIALOGUE is presumably diminished by ambient awareness. 

I can only imagine the current 'catching-up.'  It would go something like this: "So, what have you been up to?  Oh, wait.  Don't tell me.  I know.  We're done here.  Great seeing you.  Thanks for meeting me.  Check please!"

Hmmmm.  That's a downer.

And yet, here we are.  Carried by the rising tide that raises all boats -- social networking, online presences and identities -- so ubiquitous and 'seemingly required' for any contemporary professional that to lack them, one runs the risk, not of social banishment, but rather, of being forgotten or written off altogether.  "Oh, that hermit.  Gosh, I don't know what happened to him.  He just vanished.  Must have had a meltdown or gone all Howard Hughes on us.  I Googled him and he couldn't be found.  I e-mailed, called, voicemailed, texted, same-time'd, IM'd, Facebook'd, MySpace'd, Linked In, Plaxo'd, even mailed him a paper letter with my handwriting on it and an actual stamp... I did everything short of knocking on the front door of his home or rousing him from his bed, and he was nowhere to be found."

Should that ever happen to me, please don't panic or worry.

I can probably be found in a fetal position around the corner in the living room, hoping against hope that the mustard phone doesn't ring.

Lots of folks are requesting literature like this.  I hope it falls on big eyes and itching ears.

Five Missteps to Avoid in Volatile Times.pdf (118.98 kb)

A very dear mentor passed away yesterday, February 3, 2009. 

He had battled cancer valiantly for 18 ½ years, living a remarkable life along the way.   

My library is highly enriched by the many books he sent me, each of which includes a beautiful and personal inscription.  He was always thinking of others.

"Moose" was first-class, all the way.   

I vividly remember an occasion when he and I were to speak together, perhaps back in 2004 or so, and he could not leave his house from his illness.  It had been a bad day.  But he called me nonetheless, and encouraged me... HE ENCOURAGED ME... from his bed. 

That’s vintage Moose, and there was much more where that came from.  His final note to me read, "Keep swinging, Blake.  You'll keep hitting.  Cheers, Moose."

God speed, dear friend. 

-blake 

p.s. Yesterday's entry reverberates again today.  "Better to overdo than underdo."

Indeed.

Thank you, Moose, for always overdoing it for everyone fortunate enough to have crossed your path.     

High Flight
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds – and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of – wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence.  Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air...
Up, up the long delirious, burning blue,
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew –
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

Pilot Officer Gillespie Magee
No 412 squadron, RCAF
Killed 11 December 1941  

BIOGRAPHY: Terry "Moose" Millard 

Exploring the edge of the performance envelope had been part of Terry “Moose” Millard’s life since he earned his pilot license at age 15.  That is when he discovered that if you love what you do, hard work can be fun – and fun fuels productivity.  Moose believed that just as professional pilots must understand the performance envelope of their aircraft and crew, great leaders must understand the performance envelope of their organization and people.  That understanding is crucial to achieving maximum performance without running out of fuel.  After 40 years of study and experience as a leadership and service practitioner, Moose knew how it felt to be there and what works to get you there.

His formal education included a Bachelor of Science degree in Business and a Masters degree in Human Resource Management.  However, his best education had been working his way through pre-college and college years in real world jobs like heavy construction laborer, janitor, night watchman, sales person, appliance repairman, and supervisor.

Moose added to his hands-on leadership experience with a 20-year Air Force career in fighter jets, including two combat tours in Vietnam, duty as an evaluator of management and leadership, and commander of a combat ready F-16 Fighting Falcon squadron.

Moose joined the Southwest Airlines team in 1988 and stayed at the company until the age 60 rule forced him to retire.  In addition to performing duties as an airline captain, check airman, and assistant chief pilot supervising over 600 pilots, he was deeply immersed in company culture initiatives like pilot hiring, human factors team training, and intra-departmental employee relationship building.  After Moose retired from Southwest Airlines the company contracted with him to help lead a new business initiative called Plane Smart Business, which more deeply engaged pilots in understanding and participating in business performance enhancements for the company.

Since 1990 he shared his experience and research as a seminar leader, consultant, and professional speaker.  He spoke with passion and humor about building and maintaining maximum performance cultures, developing the heart of service, nurturing gutsy leadership, and dealing with adversity through Possibility Mentality which he had used in his continuing 17-year adventure with cancer.

The origin of his nickname remains mysteriously obscured in the hazy history of a bygone era.  He resided with his wife, Allene, in Colorado Springs, CO and Henderson, NV.

My father shared an interesting story with me the other day about a dear family friend who passed away.  Fortunately, upon hearing of his illness, my parents moved quickly -- rushed to the hospital to be at his side and to visit with his wife.  He died later that same evening.

Today, I have attended several meetings.  The first one included an overview from an architect and emphasized the importance of a Master Plan for a potential project.  The second described the necessity of a Project Plan for a particular project.  The third detailed a specific Plan for an ongoing project, and the fourth meeting -- you guessed it -- included an Overview & Status Update on a current project!

In each of these instances, the words of my mother ring true: "Better to overdo than underdo."

In the case of the Master Plan, we know the additional expenses and change-orders that arise in the absence of pre-planning can be exorbitant.  In the cases of Project Plans and ongoing Status Updates, I am reminded of the carpenter's colloquialism, "Measure twice, cut once."

This very day, our Senate is wrestling with an Economic Recovery Package/Stimulus Plan.  If our lawmakers are not careful, they might very well make things worse.  (a big surprise for some of you, i'm sure.  unfathomable, isn't it?)  Harvard economist Martin Feldstein commented the other day, "$800 Billion is a terrible thing to waste."  And Larry Summers (controversial former President of Harvard University and current Director of the National Economic Council in the Obama Administration) commented that whatever government does, it should be "targeted, timely, and temporary."  Amen.

To my way of thinking, I like the potentially paradoxical combination of these three ideas:

1. Better to overdo than underdo.

2. Measure twice, cut once.

3. When rescuing, be targeted, timely, and temporary.

A dear friend of mine, who today is wildly successful in every sense of the word, grew up impoverished.  Many years ago, as he and I were discussing welfare and the like, he commented, "The poor need a helping hand, not a handout.  Just facilitate, don't rescue.  It preserved my pride and gave me all I needed -- opportunity and access."

As leaders, this crisis is alchemy -- the opportunity to take ordinary parts and create an extraordinary whole through the right combination of support + access.  What began as a mortgage collapse exacerbated by credit default swaps and a full-scale financial and economic embolism provides a phenomenal OPPORTUNITY for the United States to right the ship.  But haste makes waste, and while there is very little time remaining to 'move quickly,' it's key that whatever will be done... be done well.  Otherwise, we'll simply add insult to injury and worsen an already complicated morass.

But from the individual perspective, which is the only one we control, I propose we focus on doing right in all the little things; erring on the side of exceeding customer expectations, building strong and informed plans (pre-thinking as much as possible), and being targeted and timely.  

Like a child's training wheels, they've got to come off some day.  Our responsibility is to ready the rider for independence so he/she can perform beyond our existence... and this can most effectively happen when we err on the side of "pre-habilitation and pre-planning," lest we remain forever in the process of "re-habilitation and rescue."

Like food coloring or plastic surgery, if we're not careful -- we'll add just one drop too many; perform one surgery too many -- and create an unintentionally eugenicized country that was neither what we settled, nor what our founding fathers set out to create.