For a few weeks each fall (before daylight saving time ends and we enter a period of seemingly perpetual darkness) I arrive home from work as Grand Marshal of a celebration parade, greeted by majestic bloom of red confetti tossed high into the late afternoon sky by our row of Autumn Blaze Maple trees. The breath-stealing beauty is enough to make me forget, at least momentarily, that someone has to rake up that "confetti" on the weekends.
It is hard to believe it was only three years ago that we had 21 invasive-root-spreading, water-stealing, bug-invested Poplar trees removed, much to the shock of our neighbors (who neither paid our summer water bill nor bounced their mowers over our lawn weekly). In their place we planted just five maple trees. Though of decent size for new plantings (we ordered them from Big Trees Supply after all), they were far from mature and looked awkward in comparison to the semi-opaque screen provided by the closely-planted and towering Poplar trees. But we didn’t plant them for what they were; we planted them with a vision of what they could become.
That first summer and fall the trees required a fair amount of protection and care. When planted, the trees were "staked", tethered with a rubber chain to two large poles, one on each side. The stakes were a safeguard, preventing the trees from falling or growing awkwardly until they could grow stronger and take root, as they slowly adjusted to their new home. (Because the girth of the stakes was larger than the tree trunks, we joked that we had actually purchased ten stakes that happened to come with trees.) We also had to frequently water deeply, setting a hose on a timer and regularly checking soil moisture. Autumn arrived, and within 15 minutes the first "leaf blowing" season was over. But the trees were healthy and growing, and longer blowing days were certainly ahead in future years.
After two full growing seasons we began to water less and no longer needed to regularly check moisture levels. One day I looked across the lawn and noticed that the trees were pulling the stakes upward, with the rubber chains stretched to their limit. At that point I had to release the ties before they became harmful. It was time for the trees to stand on their own, and for me to remove obstacles and controls standing in the way of future growth
Now that the leaves have all disappeared and I have put away the leaf blower for the last time this year, I reflect on how this relates to leadership, and the opportunities leaders have to help those that follow them:
- Have a vision for what people can become, not just what they are now. They will sometimes be scrawny in comparison to more mature versions…be patient, as long as they are growing.
- Protect them from elements that could significantly harm them. Give them time to get stronger, and be aware that a "young tree" cannot withstand the same amount of turbulence as a rooted one. Your own pain threshold (developed over much time) is not the benchmark.
- Water them, giving them what they need to succeed. It might be responsibility, or information, or encouragement, or something else. Effective leaders know how to speak the "learn language" of their followers.
- Release control over time, giving them space. Focus more on outcomes and avoid reviewing and criticizing methodologies and details. The control that was necessary initially might be something that is harming them now.
- Celebrate as the vision is realized. Be glad when they begin to do something jaw-dropping, and people notice; don’t be threatened by it. Remember, in a celebration parade the confetti falls on everyone, not just the Grand Marshal.
Technorati Tags:
Leadership,
growth