“What can I do; how can I help?”
We often ask this question as casually as we ask, “How are you?”
Although the intent is pure, it’s a terribly imperfect question. I learned last week that it takes the perfect answer to realize this imperfection. It will change the way I ask this question for the rest of my life.
It’s July. Halftime.
The band is ready. The concessions are busy. People are stretching and talking about the highlights of the first half. And whether you’re winning or losing, all teams are huddled to make adjustments for the second half. They’re planning to do more of what’s working, less of what’s not making things happen, and making sure they’re on the right side of the final score.
How will you stand up to ensure success in the second half? What can you do to finish strong? You were in the game for the first half, but none of that matters now. At this point, nobody has won. But someone will– in the second half. In the next six months.
Very few people would accuse me of being a technophobe. In fact, I have a history of embracing new technology if it adds value to my business, my community or to life in general. Which is why I have a problem with social notworking– that is, social networking gone bad. Not long ago, the U.S. Marine Corps announced a ban on access to social networks from USMC computers. Why? Publicly, it’s because careless use could compromise security. But it’s likely more than that. Consider how much time people spend on these networks. Is it necessary? Is it critical? Is it a good use of time?
The changes we don’t like are the changes that aren’t our idea. And when the changes we have to lead aren’t our idea, it’s on us to step up to the challenge, in some cases, whether we like it or not.
Think about it. Mask mandates. Supply chain challenges that make some of our favorite products unavailable. Overnight delivery that suddenly isn’t guaranteed. The cost of consumable goods, particularly groceries and gas prices.
But organizational change is different.
By Mike Fitzgerald
We see stories almost every day about being the best version of ourselves that we can be. It’s the kind of story that’s inspiring, uplifting, and motivating.
It’s the story that gets published most often. What can we learn from the most remarkable leaders? How can our best managers and the people who have shaped our lives along the way mold us into better leaders?
The more I see evidence of the Great Resignation, the more I believe it isn’t a crisis. It’s a choice. Weak leaders resign to the resignation. Strong leaders step up, fight back, and set an unwavering tone of perseverance, resiliency, and vision at every level of their company all the time.