Everyday Leadership (1 of 3 free samples)
COPYRIGHT
Everyday Leadership by Daniel Granholm Mulhern. Copyright 2007 by Daniel Granholm Mulhern.
All Rights Reserved. Sharing not permitted.
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EVERYDAY LEADERSHIP
Getting Results in Business, Politics, and Life
Daniel Granholm Mulhern
To my beloved Jennifer
hero, mentor, editor, and best friend
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
http://www.dailylit.com/books/everyday-leadership/acknowledgments
INTRODUCTION
THIS BOOK HAS ONE CORE PURPOSE: to help you to lead better, everywhere you lead, whether as a supervisor, chief executive officer (CEO), parent, principal, or pastor. It offers you an opportunity to reflect on what’s working for you and what could work better. Nearly every sentence in this book has been written to be relevant for you, whether you run a business, sit on a board, raise children, or do all of the above. It prompts you to examine and evaluate how you lead by offering ideas, stories, and strategies that will help you lead better. All of these ideas and stories are about the human dynamics of the extraordinary social animals that we call people. Consider a personal example.
In August of 1998 I had a fun-house experience of leadership. It was as if I were standing in front of one of those curvy mirrors so that I was seeing myself all out of proportion. It was disorienting and funny at the same time. Let me explain.
I was one of the crafters of my wife’s first truly big speech, her acceptance of our party’s nomination for the position of attorney general of Michigan. It was an extraordinary moment for this political newcomer in relationship to her supporters. Many delegates came in supporting her, but many, many more left that day committed to her. She roared the refrain of that speech: “I’ll take your case.” They heard in her voice, and she heard in her voice, her commitment to serve them, to put them before her own needs or interests.
Now an extraordinary power source comes online when a person is clear with himself and others that he is there to serve. That power flows as long as the leader and those led share clarity of purpose. A servant leader repeatedly orients himself toward the needs of others and taps the power that comes from having a big purpose. This clarity of purpose is what causes the parent of an angry adolescent to take a deep breath and let it pass or to clean up behind the toddlers at 11:00 p.m. for the tenth time that day. It is the clarity about service that causes the doctor to answer every single page. This clarity causes a shop owner to anguish for weeks before laying off workers. And clarity about service gives a school principal the energy to return frustrated parents’ calls well after dinnertime.
I am convinced that on that day at the Lansing Center, attorney Jennifer Granholm’s pronouncement, “I’ll take your case,” cemented her sense of service as her guiding purpose and source of strength.
In the months leading up to the convention, I, too, had a sense of purposeful and powerful service, for I was helping Jennifer achieve something great. During this lead-up, I had also found myself wrestling with my jealous ego as I watched Jennifer cast in the limelight. But now I was flushed with pride and joy as she delivered a great speech. And this great speech delivered her well down the path to victory. I walked her offstage, exulting, smiling, swollen happily in the moment.
The lesson of service was about to become more graphic. Our girls, Kate, eight years old, and Cece, who was seven, beamed at Jennifer. The crowd was howling, hooting, and loving this little family, and it swept us up. Jack, a couple months shy of one year old, was not impressed. Neither was he impressed when the main actor, Geoffrey Fieger, the nominee for governor, strode to the stage to the labor-packed crowd’s wild applause. In fact, Jack was crying, and, let me put it plainly, he stunk. Like any self-respecting parent, I could predict the hideous color and utter liquidity of what was inside this poor baby’s diaper. And with him in this condition it just didn’t seem right to foist him on my mom and younger sister, who were helping out. Much as I wanted to hear Fieger’s speech, Jack was not about to wait, so we ducked out through the heavy black curtains behind the stage.
After what seemed like a quarter-mile walk, I found a bathroom, pulled out the plastic mat, got down on the tiled floor, and took care of the ugly green business. In that little hall of mirrors, I could see this odd reflection of myself and didn’t know what to think. I was proud of Jennifer and my work in support of her; on the other hand, I was frustrated and--I’m not proud to say this--a little bitter over the way I was experiencing this historic moment in our family’s life. I figured I had missed Fieger’s speech by now. And there was Jack, oblivious and wonderful, as babies are. I started laughing at the absurdity of it all, felt myself lighten up, and watched a smile spread across Jack’s face. Or is memory tricking me: was Jack the one who lightened up and I followed his lead?
In the eight years since that day, I have often reflected on the gift of that moment. It was as if life, or God if you please, was saying, “I am trying to help you see that you can serve and lead in a really different way than you might think you want to, think you should, or even think you can. Be present. Right here. Pay attention, right now, in the middle of the little stuff.” This was by no means a once and for all lesson. Instead, especially in my supportive role with my governor-wife, I have had to learn that lesson over and over again. But that time with Jack offered a singular moment and taught me about the unusual three-way intersection where leading, serving, and being human meet.
