Reshaping Our Future

My years in elementary and junior high school were less than stellar. I actually flunked seventh grade, and am one of the few people I know who can say seventh grade was the worst two years of my life. But of all the teachers that had left their painful mark, by far and away my fifth grade teacher was the most traumatic. Her name was Miss Barr.

Built like a fire hydrant, with a helmet of black hair atop a mean and dour face, she was every fifth grade boy’s nightmare. My typical memory was of her verbally scolding and abusing me in front of the class. She'd repeat over and over what a loser I was and that I would never amount to anything--that I was basically worthless. For the next four years she was right, until my parents sent me off to a private school that I credit with saving my life.

Thus it was with shock and surprise that thirty years later I found myself sitting in a restaurant at a table in front of her. She looked exactly the same, down to the sensible shoes, except her hair helmet was now all white.

“Look”, I whispered to my wife, “It’s Miss Barr!”

It was as if the very mention of her name would summon the devil. My voice had the timber of an eleven year, understandable because I was immediately transported back to a scared fifth grader in my old elementary school. And now, sitting behind me, was the unforgiving arch nemesis of my childhood. I immediately started to construct a passionate monologue in my mind. I leaned over to my wife and said, “There’s an old Klingon expression, ‘Revenge is a dish best served cold.’”

I was going to go over, look her in the face and say, “Miss Barr. You said I would never amount to anything. But I now have a Ph.D., a successful business and am making ten times what you make. You were wrong then, and I can only pray you have not done terrible damage to the many children who have crossed your path.” Oh, this was going to be good.

Just to be on the safe side, and more than a bit curious, I proceeded to eavesdrop on her conversation. Who knows, I thought. Maybe I misjudged her. Maybe I should give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she is actually a sweet and lovely woman who I have miscast from the fragile perspective of an eleven year old.

What I heard confirmed I was instead right. Miss Barr spent the next fifteen minutes in some of the most vicious gossip-mongering I had ever witnessed. She was mean-spirited, vindictive and down-right nasty. OK I thought. My feelings are quite justified. This woman is a vampire. She’s going down and I’ve got the stake and hammer right here!

Disregarding the pleading eyes of my wife, I summoned my strength and decided to step into my revenge. This was my moment of truth. This was what I had waited thirty years for—vengeance was mine, sayeth the Lord. I strode over to her table, looked her calmly in the face and said, “Excuse me. Miss Barr?”

Without hesitation, she squinted, looked up at me and rasped, “David Baum!”

Dear God. The woman had super human powers too. Not one to be thrown off my game plan I decided to launch into my prepared speech. I took a deep breath and suddenly the most amazing thing happened. I had a shift of thinking. Instead of seeing her as a mean-spirited and vindictive autoctrat I saw a sad and troubled old woman, retired by now with only her gossip and memories to keep her warm.

I looked at Miss Barr and quietly responded, “I just wanted to say that I have turned out quite well. I have a doctorate, my own business and am in part who I am today because of you. I wanted you to know that.” I didn’t lie, but I did give only a humane portion of the truth. After all, I thought, what ultimate good would it have done?

Did Miss Barr soften? Did we have a moment that connected us in a new way? No…not really. She stiffened, looked me coldly in the eye and said, “I knew all you needed was a little prodding from your laziness” and then looked away. I had been dismissed.

But when I left the restaurant a few seconds later I felt ten feet tall. Somehow in my re-shaping of my history with Miss Barr I had given myself something that no amount of anger and retribution could provide. I had given myself respect. Whatever demons she had represented were now gone. I felt lighter.

I think the lesson is if we are willing to see past our memories to how things really are then we can shift at any time away from our past. It requires thinking differently about our history and then acting differently towards our future.

Our Culture of Apology

I don't know about you but a phone call for help on any service or technical matter usually leaves me more frustrated than when I started the conversation. It seems that the typical service motto (and insert your favorite airline carrier, phone or computer company here) is, "We're not happy till you're not happy." Their lack of empathy and competency is sometimes staggering.

But of all the things that bother me, the worst is that business has become known for the meaningless apology. In a recent conversation with a large phone company, in which my PDA was yet again not working, the technical support representative said either, “I’m sorry” or “I apologize” twenty nine times in a thirty minute phone call. That’s almost an apology once a minute! To make matters worse, it was clear he didn’t really mean it, and that his apology was scripted and only intended to quell my frustration. I later learned this same phone company trains their people to say, “I’m sorry” for every expression of frustration because their focus group data suggests this is what customers want.

I think this is absolute nonsense. A meaningless apology is hollow at best and manipulative at worst, and at least for me generates the exact opposite response. I see it as nothing more than a pre-emptive strike. “Look”, I want to say. “When I am upset, I may not be a box of chocolates but I am not horribly, abusive either. I understand certain business realities. But when that fake apology comes my way, over and over, it does nothing but ignite my anger. It all feels so disingenuous.”

I think this is a good reminder to remember that meaningless apology, while a cliché in the world of service, does not have to become a part of your own behavior. A way of making sure it doesn’t is to include three things in every apology. First, say what you are sorry about—be specific and transparent. Second, say what you have learned from the issue or interaction and how you have been impacted. Third, be clear about what you are committed to doing differently next time. If you do these three things, your chances of staying out of apology mischief, i.e. using apology to manipulate others, will be greatly reduced.

At the end of the above phone call, I told the technical support rep how many times he had apologized during our conversation. What did he say in response? You guessed it.

Words Matter

The AARP is a huge organization. With over 37 million members and one of the most envied and prolific membership machines in recent memory they are a force to be reckoned with as advocates for senior adults. The running joke is, if you want to catch Osama Bin Laden, wait till he turns fifty…because AARP will find him with a membership letter!

However, an organization of this size is not known for nimble change. Nancy LeaMond, group executive officer, told me the following story. Recently AARP put together a focus group video to use in developing their key messages . They had each of their top executives individually talk on camera about AARP's policy positions. Though the strategy had already been set, and the talking points established, Nancy learned something very interesting during the editing. Even though all the execs basically said the same thing, they weren’t using the same language! Different phrases and key words were used leaving a viewer with an impression that the message was confused and lacking in coherency.

“We found this out quite by accident”, she told me. “During the editing process for the video it became clear that we were saying very different things. And while we had all agreed on the framework for our strategy, the way our policy was communicated by different leaders was muddled. We learned that words matter. It’s not enough for your senior team needs to mean the same thing; they must say the same thing.”

Colleen Clark, head of HR at Eastern Mountain Sports, says “The conversation is the culture.” I couldn’t agree more.

During a significant organizational change bring your people together for one-on-one sessions in front of a video camera and ask them to tell you how they will talk about the change. Then sit back and watch. Is the language consistent? Are the same key words being used over and over? Is the phrasing not just aligned, but even identical?

Because at the end of the day, Nancy LeaMond is right. Words do matter.