I am fortunate to work closely with my undergraduate alumnae association. When I did my undergraduate work Douglass College, a division of Rutgers University, was all women, serving as the sister school to Rutgers College, then all men. Rutgers College admitted women in1972, my sophomore year, but Douglass remained a degree-granting, single-gender school until 2007. Now it’s been renamed as Douglass Residential College but it remains focused on programs and services dedicated to women and women’s education. I am the head of an alumnae-mentoring program (alumna to alumna) and, along with my work as an executive coach, I come in contact with many young millennial women. I get it that my sample is skewed. However, I am fascinated with how many…
I have a reputation in my immediate family as a “good story teller.” When my husband and younger son describe me that way they really mean that they think I have exaggerated the tale beyond all recognition and am bordering on being an out and out liar! My older son shares this particular skill with me and, like me, sees it as a means to keep a conversation from lagging. But, make no mistake; the stories I tell are absolutely true and reflect the way I look at the world. And there lies the rub: the way I look at the world is, by definition, unique and my creation. Mary Catherine Bateson, noted anthropologist and daughter of Margaret Mead and Gregory…
I had a consulting assignment at a small company and, as part of my remit, I was available for one-on-one coaching for the senior executive team. One day one of those senior executives asked me if I would spend some time with a new staff member. This young man had been hired for a job for which he had no qualifications, no experience and he was loudly telling everyone what they were doing wrong. “Sure. I think I can offer some help here. Tell him to call me and set up an appointment.” So began my coaching relationship with Mark (names, as always, are changed to protect the innocent). Mark was young and very, very smart. It was true that he…
I always thought that my role as a good CEO was to be a pessimist and surround myself with optimists. It was my job to figure out what could go wrong – with our products, the markets, our clients, the dynamics of the industry, or the world – and my brilliant team would develop solutions that would protect, preserve and grow our business. It mostly worked. We had fail-safe systems within fail-safe systems. We had telephone trees to alert each other for every power outage and blizzard at one end of the “disaster” spectrum and we had plans in place for key employees to work remotely in the event of fire, flood and – unfortunately – terrorist attack. We knew that…
My husband and I look at the world somewhat differently and, because of that, there are many topics that we have almost unconsciously agreed not to talk about. Yankees vs. Mets to give but one example. We are both smart enough to know that you don’t change someone’s mind by arguing and we share so many core values that we’ve been happily married for a very long time with just a handful of topics off-limits. When I stumble onto a new, off-limits topic I am always surprised. Many, many years ago he was in a rare, down mood and asked me, “What is the meaning of life?” I quickly answered without thinking about it, “Life is short and then you die,”…
A while ago I wrote about how grateful I was that a valued employee was brave enough to tell me that he didn’t think I was doing a very good job (The Crone in the Corner Office, July 14, 2016: “Hearing Loss at the Top of the Mountain.”). Many readers wrote to me privately since that essay appeared, asking for advice on giving their boss feedback. Oh, the awful boss stories I’ve heard, leading me to write again about how we must take responsibility for ourselves and our own issues (The Crone in the Corner Office, September 8, 2016: “Does Your Boss Need Therapy, Coaching, Miss Manners or Meds? How About You?”). Clearly, I have grossly underestimated the degree of hearing…
It happened again last week at my regular chiropractor appointment. I’ve been suffering from a sciatica flare-up and the back cracking seems to work. My doctor who happens to live across the street from me asked me how much walking I did the day before, given that I was groaning just rolling off the table. When I told him my Fitbit recorded upward of 16,000 steps, he exclaimed, “You sure stay busy for being retired!” Who ever said anything about being retired? But I hear it all the time from family and friends, who murmur in somewhat suppressed amusement about my many hobbies and the ways I find to “stay busy.” At the same time, my coaching practice is rife with…
I reached my current height when I was in fifth grade and all of 11 years old. I still carry a vivid memory of going out trick or treating with my friends the year before, towering over them, and some dad saying to me, “You should be ashamed of yourself, begging for candy with the little kids at your age!” I was ashamed after that, feeling wrong in my 5’7” self. Unfortunately “feeling wrong” in your skin is an all too common feeling among young women, even after decades of women’s advancement in education and their subsequent rise in the working world. There is a pervasive cultural message that a woman’s value is closely linked to her appearance. Young women today…
If you do an Internet search on leadership and change management the results might surprise you. First of all, you’ll find thousands of citations returned but perhaps that’s to be expected. I was a bit taken aback by the sheer number of academic programs, institutes and centers that are researching and instructing on leadership and change management. But what really surprised me was the fact that you could get a PhD in Leadership and Change Management from a number of institutions. I made a note to go back and see which programs “transfer” real world credit. Change is hard. But before we even get to the hard part we have to acknowledge that change is necessary. Sometimes the necessary part smacks…
The day I announced I was leaving my company I was teary and euphoric. If I had any reservations about my decision, the die was cast. I asked my son to have lunch with me and I drank too much. I pouted out loud a bit as one of the regional executives who attended my announcement meeting in case any staff member had questions about the transition just walked out afterwards, not thinking it was important to note that people were actually crying as I said goodbye. The day after my last day – or the first day of the rest of my life – I bought a new iMac, met with my accountant, met with my attorney, filed papers to register…