Love doesn’t have to be loud. It doesn’t have to be grand gestures, expensive gifts, or even daily confirmations. Love is found in our intentional interactions, our given respect, and it is felt even when it goes silent and intangible. 

Love may feel like an odd word to use when describing how leaders manage and connect with their teams. The love of our organization’s workforce is not a romantic, or a familial affection. It is not one bred from birth or marriage. It is chosen and voluntary, requiring willfulness, commitment, and must be designed in a way that promotes success. Great leaders love through nurturing, guiding, redirection, and correction.

My dad, Steve, was not a hugger or a confessor of emotion. He was a quiet man who loved us softly. He was the leader of the house, but never the intense dictator, the excited cheerleader, or the feared punisher. Yet we all knew when he was proud, felt disappointed, and were well aware of the expectations he set forth. He likely never realized the impact that his presence as a father made. He formed me into the person I am today, as a parent, wife, and leader. 

Lessons from Dad

Correct with purpose, not punishment.

Our people are going to screw up, sometimes royally. 

I messed up. A lot. I was overly independent, stubborn, hell bent on doing what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it. Most of the time, I made choices that would leave me in one piece, but occasionally, I made really bad, dangerous decisions. 

In my midteens my parents moved me from the city to the suburbs. I fought it, took off back to the old neighborhood, and in hindsight hung out with less than upstanding kids. As time went on, we aged, and people started to get cars and drivers licenses. My old friends were not the  people that morphed into these legal drivers, however, they managed to come pick me up in a car that wasn’t theirs, without a license in hand. 

My Mom was scared and furious. My Dad got to deal with me when I got home. I wasn’t screamed at or grounded. I didn’t get the butt kicking I likely deserved. I honestly don’t remember what the repercussions were, but I do remember the conversation. “Why did you make that choice”, “Do you know what could have happened”, and most importantly, “What will you do differently next time you have to make a choice like this”? 

When approaching our team members regarding a mistake, even a potential life shattering one, lead them to see the bigger picture, the consequences of the choices, and what needs to be done to prevent a fall out in the future. One mistake doesn’t define a person’s capability. Approach the situation with calmness, clarity, and a plan to move forward. 

The next time, the gavel might have had to drop, but I was smart enough there was no next time. 

Steve didn’t punish, he corrected. 

Celebrations are earned, not arbitrarily given.

Mediocracy was not a justified cause for a gala event. Just hitting the mark, or being present, wasn’t going to get Dad to slip me some extra spending money. 

A’s were required, and straight A’s were celebrated.

Growing up, I watched other kids get put on a pedestal for simply attending school, for joining the T-ball, for doing things that were simply part of growing up. It felt unfair at the moment, but looking back on not being given an exorbitant amount of praise for normal tasks has prepared me for the real world of motherhood, wifedom, and employee, where the activities or projects I am involved with are just my job.

At some point in my late teens, I became interested in cars. My dad wasn’t a car guy (except wrecking them when he was in his teens), but when I started to show interest, he enthusiastically taught me how to change my oil. I grasped onto the jobs, and soon became the oil change queen of the house. It was above my normal daughterly duties, and for that I got praised, and ten bucks. 

Celebrating our people isn’t about making them feel good about hitting the bare minimum expectations. It’s about instilling good values, recognizing and rewarding the actions that go above and beyond, and keeping entitlement at bay. 

Correct with patience, coach with enthusiasm, and deliver accolades for amazing achievement. 

Love is quiet, but always present.

I knew I was a daddy’s girl. We had an understanding and a peace among us, whether it be tearing out an old tattered deck, or spending the day on the boat in near silence. 

I knew my dad loved me. Words were not needed other than a passing ‘love you’ at the end of a call. I never had doubt, but I never really understood its depth, it was his to give and only he could quantify it. 

It was near the end, when I spent my days working from the pleather chair of the room in hospice. It was when his eyes lit up and showed some recognition beyond the pain and the medication meant to make things manageable. It was how my Mom would say, “Daddy was asking if you are coming by tomorrow”, even just hours after I left. It was knowing that, for the first time, he needed me more than I needed him. 

Our people, just like our children, parents, and friends, thrive off varying degrees of affirmations. Learn what they need to feel part of the team. What makes them tick and what motivates them personally. I bring with me a non-suffocating, but deep version of care, respect, dedication, and even a form of love to my team. I have had to pivot depending on the person, but at my core I am still me, I am still my father’s daughter. 

Allow some element of emotion in your interactions. Your people are people, and no matter how they need their bucket filled, it is our responsibility to be in tune with the needs of our people in order to build a constructive, cohesive, and collaborative team. Balance truly is the key to successful leadership. Discipline with purpose and patience, commend excellence and acknowledge achievement, love softly yet fiercely.  

Of all the lessons learned from Dad, I will forever carry with me one of his last bits of coherent advice, “Hugs are just ‘I love you’s’, when you can’t find the right words”. 

I hugged him good-bye that day for the last time ever, but the person he created will live on in my actions, values, and leadership both personally and professionally.