04 Dec How a 10-Year-Old Taught Me the Ultimate Lesson in Leadership

It’s sometime after midnight, and I can’t sleep. J starts seventh grade in the morning, and the nervous energy coursing through my body forbids my eyes from closing. His burden has become mine.

Earlier that night over cheese pizza and watered down red drink J acted cooler than usual—as if tomorrow were just another day, as if it didn’t matter at all. But I knew better. So I laid it on extra thick, joking with him until he reached across the table and shoved my arm. Jerking back, I spilled my drink and we both exploded with laughter. Life it seems is less about what happens and more about how you deal with those happenings.

 

Part Two: Cause and Effect

In 2011, I made a decision that would forever change my life. There aren’t many of those, by the way: life-changing decisions. But this one, this seemingly simple action, turned out to be so formative, so enormous that I can say with absolute certainty it left a permanent imprint.

In 2011, I became a Big Brother.

If you don’t know about Big Brothers Big Sisters, you should. The concept is simple: a responsible, thoughtful adult (or, a Big) is paired with an impressionable and often disenfranchised youth (or, a Little). For a minimum of one year, the pair meets for four hours every other week to, well, just hang out. At first it may sound too good to be true. There are 730 hours in a month; how can 8 of them carry any real significance? But in this case, as in most cases, it’s not about quantity it’s about quality—and not quality of hours necessarily, but quality of intention. It’s cause and effect: when you show up in a child’s life, they, quite remarkably, begin to do the same.

When I became a Big Brother my goal was to have an impact, to make a difference. The result, however, turned out to be exactly the inverse: it was my life that was impacted. It was my situation that would never be the same.
 

Part Three: A Sound Investment

In today’s rapidly evolving business environment, it’s almost foolish to rely too much on one thing. Technology advances. Business models shift. Consumers vacillate between this and that. To spend all your time attempting to predict the future is the best way to ensure you will never influence it. But no matter what happens in the world or market, there is one investment that will always pay hefty dividends: leadership. Whether in times of great prosperity or despair, an exceptional leader will always thrive—and she will help others do the same.

Out of all the teachers I’ve had, and I’ve had fantastic ones, out of all the lessons I’ve learned, there is no single experience that has shaped me more as a leader than my hours with J. And I’m not talking about some small, immeasurable alteration; I’m talking about the kind of impact that has a direct, quantifiable outcome. The insights I’ve uncovered could fill a book—and perhaps one day they will—but it was the first lesson, just weeks after we met, that would ultimately play a pivotal role in my life and business.
 

Part Four: Happy Birthday to You

J’s 11th birthday was just around the corner, and at this point in our relationship things were still undeniably tense. We’d only known each other for a few months, and each week seemed more difficult than the next. From emotional outbursts to long stretches of chilly silence, it was clear that he was testing me, searching for cracks in my foundation, waiting for me to abandon ship. From the start, J made it perfectly clear: respect would be earned, not given.

With just weeks before the close of his first decade, I asked J to think of something special he’d like to do to celebrate his 11th year of life. He looked excited, but not too excited. It would be months before he shared any real emotions with me.

Adults speak in a sort of shorthand. The meaning of our words is flexible based on the context of a particular situation. “I’ll call you later” doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll call you later today; it just means I’ll call you at some point in the future. In the short-term it saves time; in the long-time term it can wreak havoc, especially for the well-intentioned leader.

When I asked J to think of something special he’d like to do for his birthday, what I meant was: think of something special you’d like to do in celebration of your birthday. But I didn’t say that. Instead I used my trusted shorthand and relied on the assumption of a shared vocabulary. You see, the actual “big day” fell on a Tuesday, so I’d always meant for our outing to be belated. J and I had never hung out on a weekday. Not once. There would be no logical reason for him to assume we’d celebrate his birthday on the actual day, expect of course for the obvious one: I had implied it.

On that Tuesday afternoon I got a call.

“Where are you?” J asked with a kind of eagerness I’d yet to ever hear in his voice. “You said we were going to do something for my birthday. When are you coming over?”

I paused for a moment and replayed the original conversation in my head. Did I say that? Did I say we would do something special on his birthday or for his birthday? Surely he knew what I had meant.

At the time I was editor of GE’s ecomagination.com and had a full day of meetings on my calendar. I started to explain, but he hung up. When I called back his mother said he couldn’t come to the phone. He had locked himself in his room and was crying. I knew I had made a mistake. I looked back at my calendar. “Tell him I’ll be there in a hour.”

When I arrived 60 minutes later, I apologized for my lack of communication and explained the situation in full. J listened closely, but didn’t seem to care much for my reasoning. I had shown up on his birthday, like I promised, and that alone was enough. The wrong had been righted. The problem had been solved.

But here’s the really interesting part. After that day, everything changed. He stopped testing me. He started behaving. When we ran into his friends on the street, he would introduce me not as Michael, but as “my brother, Michael.” With one simple action, I changed the course of our entire relationship and learned a lesson that would forever shape me as a leader: be specific in your words and steadfast in your actions.
 

Part Five: The Perils of Perfection

When you view yourself as a leader, it’s natural to feel as though you are not allowed to make a mistake. If you show failure, if you demonstrate weakness, what does say that about your ability to lead? Moreover, why should anyone follow you in the first place? You’re just as mortal as them. This obligation to appear perfect is an unspoken pressure that, if left unchecked, can poison cultures and topple empires. I can only imagine what would have occurred, or not have occurred, if I had stayed at work that afternoon. As it turned out, my role as a leader was solidified not in spite of my blunder, but because of it.

J turns 13 next month, and he is thriving in the seventh grade. These next few years will be tough, and I’m certain he won’t always get it right. But I’m hopeful that one day he will learn the very lesson he taught me: leadership isn’t about getting it right; it’s about making it right. And that small distinction can make a huge difference.

If this post has peaked your curiosity about becoming a Big, please shoot me a note at MPD@michaelparrishdudell.com. I’ll make sure you get connected to the right person at the organization.