Action: Blaze the Trail

Dad and Mom headed back to the hospital this morning to review the results from yesterday’s tests. He is resolved about not wanting any medical heroics that will add no real value to the time he has left. They are considering, however, a round of radiation to deal with an intestinal blockage caused by tumor growth—we know now why Dad has no appetite.

I feel I should postpone my schedule. As much as Dad wants me out in the streets, I feel I should be spending time with him. My head’s filling up with facts, principles, and diagrams, but my heart needs—I don’t know what my heart needs. Instruction? Engagement? If I’m learning anything, I’m learning that the Serving Leader model can’t be understood through principles and diagrams alone.

I think my relationship with Dad is a key. I still feel terribly disconnected from him. This is troubling to me because Dad tells me that a Serving Leader focuses on a new kind of relationship. Well, I’d like to have some of this new kind of relationship taking place between us.

Today Will Turner and Martin Goldschmidt gave me the whole day. They’re an unusual and wonderful pair. The former mayor, Will is African American, a gray-bearded Christian, gracefully companionable, and dressed to the nines. Martin is Jewish, reserved in speech and manner, and frumpily academic. They love each other and respect each other highly. I could use more days with men like this!

Dad told me last night that they are key to the whole Serving Leader project and that I’d gain much from my time with them.

“When I retired from my position as mayor,” Will said in the car, “my life and career hit a brick wall. I had reached the top, achieved the goal of a lifetime of effort, and I wasn’t even halfway through my fifties.

“I didn’t know what to do with my contacts, energy, and passion for my city,” Will continued. “I wasn’t mayor anymore, but I still loved this city, and serving her had become the purpose of my life. I was in that stage of life one writer calls ‘halftime.’ I had success for myself, and I had served my city well, I believe. But I knew there was something even more significant that I was yet to do with my life.”

“In my own very small way, I’m starting to understand what you’re talking about,” I said. “Not that I’ve achieved anything like you have,” I quickly added, feeling a little dumb for making the comparison. “What I mean is, I’m not sure my goals will bring me the satisfaction I’m really looking for.”

“You’ve just told me something very wonderful about yourself. You’re on a venture, a journey toward your life’s significance. I like that!”

I smiled dubiously. I hope that’s true. I really do hope it!

“But tell me what the two of you are up to. All I know is that you’re leading a nonprofit organization and that your work has strong coaching, mentoring, and teaching components.”

“Will’s doing all the work,” Martin said. “I just watch in awe.”

“Don’t listen to that nonsense, Mike!” Will retorted. “Martin’s research makes our work possible. Old do-gooders like me are notoriously soft on results, and that’s unacceptable. Martin finds out if our good deeds actually do anybody any good. I need the validation he provides because life is too short to waste it on sentimental pursuits that don’t actually improve anything. We want to move the needle on real social indicators in the community.

“What we’re putting together here,” Will continued, “is a teaching and mentoring program that’s aimed specifically at children who have a parent in prison. Children of prisoners are among the most vulnerable populations in the city. Serving these kids yields incredible benefits for all of us. So we’re building Serving Leaders who can work effectively with these kids. It is our focus on building leaders that gives us real hope for success here.

“We’ve activated churches and businesses throughout the city, working through Philadelphia’s Big Brothers Big Sisters organizations to coach these children. Your dad and Ali have been instrumental in helping us get started. Our Serving Leaders teach the children reading, math, study skills, and, more importantly, life skills. All the while, they stick to them through thick and thin, hang out with them, give them a real relationship with an adult who’s totally on their side.

“The point of it is,” Will added, looking at me very firmly, almost challengingly, “these kids are getting loved!”

I just nodded my head. There isn’t a professional category for it, but I’m starting to get the fact that love is part of the equation. Will’s face told me I had met his challenge.

“These children are remarkable in their strength of will and ability to adapt. I’m very proud of what is happening to them.” The expression on Will’s face made that pride obvious.

Will and Martin took me to Big Brothers to see a mentor-training class. What an incredible cross section of Serving Leaders sat there: African American grandfathers, young suburban housewives, a Hispanic attorney on a break from work, a Vietnamese pastor, a couple of Philadelphia cops, as well as Muslims, Navy guys, Christians, Jews, and twenty-something Generation Xers.

The trainer created several role-plays by bringing up different mentors to act out the scenarios that had been scripted. I was given a copy of the training manual and followed along as the group focused on a section called “Winning the Right.” The role-plays focused on the initial encounter between a new mentor and a child, showing different ways that kids might resist someone who purports to care.

“These kids have lived through a lot of broken promises, ladies and gentlemen,” the trainer said. “You’re going to sound like one more promise that’s just going to be broken, and your assigned child has had too much hurt already.” The trainer spoke with the kind of authority that comes from having been there herself. “You’ve got to really understand that,” she continued. “Don’t misunderstand their bluff or their hardness. They might even do things just to make you angry. It’s a test. Will you leave, too? Are you going to dismiss them as unredeemable like everybody else? They’re going to test you, and I just want you to know something that’s very, very important.”

The teacher paused, piercing the class with her life-tempered, soul-rich eyes. No one stirred.

“The child you will be assigned desperately wants you to pass the test!” she concluded. Tears almost jumped out of my eyes. I understand being a kid and wanting a grown-up to pass the test. I didn’t expect this visit to hit so close to home.

At the end of the class, the teacher asked Will to say a few words. He tried to demur, but the teacher wouldn’t have any of it. The former mayor dedicated his remarks to the task of affirming each of the men and women in the room for the “world-changing impact” each was making.

The mentors watched with keen attention as Will spoke, rapt with the words of appreciation they were hearing. This movement has tapped into something very profound, not only for the children that receive the help, but also for the people who are here to give of themselves. Will affirmed the difference these people are making in each other’s lives, and he envisioned a community that would be healthier for their efforts. I pictured a “waterfall of service” cascading down from this team, bringing life to many.

After the class, Will and Martin took me to Will’s office, housed in a Baptist seminary in West Philadelphia. Will started the discussion.

“The churches and businesses working together have been a key to our success here. Strong support has come from churches that have shifted from just taking care of themselves to equipping themselves for service in the community and then actually getting out there!”

“Do Baptists drink coffee, Will?” I asked, needing some reinforcement before we plowed on.

“Indeed we do, Mike. There’s a nice coffee shop in the commons. Shall we walk and talk?”

As we headed out, I said, “I need some help. The Serving Leaders you are training to mentor kids are terrific. But I work in the corporate world. How does what these leaders do apply in business or in your former world of government? Does it apply?”

“Great question, Mike,” Will answered approvingly. “We think that effective leadership, what we are calling ‘Serving Leadership,’ is a key to creating lasting results. I’ve known this intuitively for many years, but it was Martin who helped clarify my thinking.”

We filled coffee cups in the commons and took seats around a table by the tall, bright windows facing south from the campus.

“I believe the responsibility of any leader is twofold,” Will continued. “We teach others the knowledge, skills, and strategies they need to succeed. And we work hard to get obstacles out of their way so they can make progress. In the inner city, our leaders teach the kids how to succeed while removing their barriers.”

We teach others the knowledge, skills, and strategies they need to succeed. And we work hard to get obstacles out of their way so they can make progress.

“Can you give me any examples of barriers?” I asked.

“Lots of them. A teacher at school who expects the child to fail—that’s a barrier. You talk to that teacher and challenge him or her to see the child differently. And you keep at it so the teacher pays better attention. Or no healthcare is available when the child is sick—that’s a big barrier. You take the mother or grandmother or whoever is raising the child to get a health card provided by the state. When the nine-year-old girl gets an earache, she also gets an antibiotic and some pain relief. And a lot of these kids can go to college, but they don’t know that they can. That’s a barrier. They’ll never get there if you don’t tell them it’s possible, and then after you’ve told them, you walk them step by step the whole way through the process.

“So, it’s a step at a time,” Will continued. “Teach and remove barriers. And the very same principles apply in business or government. Serving Leaders have to reduce their wisdom on ‘how to succeed’ into bite-sized packages. The Serving Leader teaches these packages of wisdom to the team, which in turn teaches others.”

“It sounds like what Noel Tichy has been saying for years,” I interjected.

“Thanks to Martin, here, I actually know who you’re talking about,” Will said, smiling toward his silent sidekick. “He has made sure that I read everything pertinent to this subject.”

Martin raised one eyebrow in restrained acknowledgment. I was becoming very curious about him. He hadn’t said much so far, and yet I knew his hand was in everything I was seeing and hearing about.

“We find, though,” Will continued, seemingly oblivious to my growing curiosity about this Penn and Teller routine, “that leaders often need training to become articulate about the ‘how to succeed’ wisdom that uniquely works in that organization.”

Another acknowledging eyebrow from Martin. Apparently he thought his student, the former mayor, had done his homework well!

“The two of us are giving workshops to corporate and government executives on the teaching and obstacle-removing practices of Serving Leaders. We call this area of our work ‘trailblazing’ since a Serving Leader must both teach and remove obstacles so that others can follow the path they’ve blazed.

“It’s trailblazing in another way,” Will added, a playful smile on his face. “We’re blazing a trail right into the heart of your consulting business!”

I had this whole thing wrong! I’d figured them for sophisticated do-gooders. But then I started hearing about the high standards—at BioWorks, the theme was “Raise the Bar.” And now I’m listening to a man who’s using the Serving Leader approach to outcompete me with corporate executives. Charlie was right. This is a new game!

“Mind telling me your approach with corporate executives?” I asked. “You don’t want to leave me back in the dust, do you?”

“Room up front for all of us, Mike,” Will responded kindly. “Our approach is simple. We help executives become better teachers. They become more articulate about the strategies, tactics, models, tools, and approaches that uniquely work in their own corporations. These leaders are the first teachers, their students in turn becoming the next set of faculty, and so forth, down through the organization. We design it so that one group serves the next, passing along knowledge relevant to the most pressing problems faced in the organization.”

“I have an image of a teaching waterfall,” I said, “with the impact cascading throughout the organization.”

“That’s a wonderful picture,” Will responded, his face filled with warmth.

“But is there any danger of working yourself out of a job doing what you say?” I continued. “If you teach everything that you know, then maybe you’re not needed anymore.”

Will’s face brightened, his eyes now twinkling with good humor. “It’s a paradox,” he declared. “Ever hear of a paradox?”

I just laughed.

“The more you teach your people to not need you, the greater your value,” he pressed on. “Want to hang onto your value? Give everything you have away.” Now his face was positively radiant. I grabbed my pen.

To protect your value, you must give it all away.

“But hold on,” he continued. “We’re not finished with the point—there’s another step. Remember your image of a waterfall? The second step is to remove the boulders and obstacles in the current that impede the flow. Teaching and removing obstacles need to go together. We teach this in our workshops. But may I share a few words yet about the additional process we use to build Serving Leaders?”

“Please!” I almost shouted. My hand was cramped from writing, but I knew I’d hit a mother lode, and I wasn’t going to stop digging now!

“We lay out the model of Serving Leadership, with readings, tutorials, and exercises. Frankly, I use the life and teachings of Jesus as one of the models here.”

My turn to raise a Goldschmidt-ian eyebrow. A quick glance at Martin told me we would have scored well on synchronization just then.

“Outside the workshops, we implement what we call ‘walking the talk.’ On a regular schedule, we observe our leaders at work, collect feedback from their colleagues, and then give the leaders direct feedback on how their behavior compares to the behavior of a Serving Leader. This can be painful.

“And finally,” Will concluded, “we encourage these men and women to join or create what we call an ‘encouragement group’ of trusted colleagues who help each other persevere in the pursuit of their leadership and personal goals.”

“And by the way,” Martin interjected, startling me with this sudden foray into the conversation, “we only teach leaders who have really joined us. We take clients who are committed to developing as Serving Leaders. No halfhearted students make our cut.”

I heard Martin’s last comment and felt a chill. They were practicing strategic selection, just like Stephen Cray at BioWorks. This “loose” team of people isn’t loose at all. They are building on each other’s learning and using each other’s principles. There is an integration here, and I know now that my dad is up to something incredible.

I felt a chill for another reason. Martin said they only take clients who really join them. And Ali thanked me yesterday for joining them. And hadn’t I said I wanted my research to become more hands-on? This wasn’t just another assignment; it was becoming much more personal than that.

“Mike, I’m afraid you’re going to have to hold any other questions,” Will added. “Our time’s up—I tutor a thirteen-year-old boy in half an hour and must go pick him up.” Answering the question on my face, he said, “Yes. I walk the talk!” Will’s smile was proud and resolute.

“Martin will take you back. Let me give you an outline we use to describe our trailblazing model.”

I thanked Will, took his outline, and headed out with Martin.

In the car, Martin and I spoke for a few minutes about his relationship with the former mayor. He then asked me to look over the outline Will had just handed me.

1. Serving Leaders build teaching organizations to create excellence at every level.

2. Leaders who teach become consistent in their own performance—leaders learn to introspect, to articulate their knowledge, and to improve consistency.

3. Serving Leaders remove obstacles so others can succeed.

“I asked you to read that, Mike,” Martin said when I’d finished, “because I want to add a very important point. Maybe the most important one.

“I’m not in this business to make organizations work better; I should just declare that outright. Lots of organizations work well enough but add nothing to the world.

“I want to see communities being restored, lives improving, kids learning to read, prostitutes breaking the drug and economic chains that hold them, neighborhoods gaining local jobs. That’s what I’m after.”

I was listening very quietly, aware that Martin was speaking from a depth of passion. After he spent the morning in near silence, I suspected that his spare remarks would be worth waiting for.

“There’s some powerful research my team at the university has been working on for several years. I won’t bore you with the details of methodology and statistics, but the implications are clear.”

My pen was poised.

“Simple fact: if you want to do something that really changes someone’s life, the best thing you can do is make the person you’re trying to help a participant in the process. If all you have are passive clients—or employees or students or parishioners for that matter—you’ve got nothing.”

I looked at him quizzically, waiting for the connection.

“The research is clear. When the working poor are enlisted to help build houses for themselves and others, they become responsible homeowners. When a prostitute going through recovery and life-skills training is put on the team that assures that other prostitutes receive training, that woman doesn’t slide back into a life of prostitution. When neighbors who need their block rid of pushers are given the opportunity and the know-how to join the police to get rid of the pushers, the block stays clean. Simple fact, Mike, well researched.”

“Why is that?” I asked, my spine tingling with a sense of the great significance in his remarks.

“Because substandard housing, prostitution, illiteracy, and drugs are not the core problem,” Martin replied hotly. “The fact that human beings have no sense of belonging to a real community is the problem. And what is that sense of belonging to a real community all about?”

I waited.

“The experience of community is when we know that we’re important to the team! Everyone’s in the game. Leaders put others first. Leaders expect great things from everybody. Leaders teach and get rid of obstacles for others.

“Giving our clients services doesn’t make community,” he continued. “Neither does just giving them training. Community happens when everyone rolls up their sleeves and gets to work. Only a Serving Leader can catalyze that kind of a miracle!”

Community happens when everyone rolls up their sleeves and gets to work.

I have to say it. This was an incredible day. I’m going to be considering these remarks for a very long time. What I’m really hoping for is the chance to see and experience what Will and Martin talked about today. I want to become a part of the kind of community experience they described.

When I got home, I visited with my folks until they went to bed. I began to collect my notes for the day and had just updated my pyramid when Ali stopped by. He wanted to hear about my day, so we moved out to the porch to talk. Ali was back to his teacher’s role—which, all gibes aside, I really appreciate.

“Summarize for me,” he said, after I had told him about the day. “What’s been added to your picture?”

“All of these Serving Leaders are outstanding teachers,” I began. “They give their followers very specific advice on what to do and how to do it, based on their own success using these same approaches. Their teaching has credibility because they live what they teach. Will’s expression is ‘walk the talk.’”

“That’s good,” Ali said. “But is it sufficient to teach people what to do and then to stand back and hope they succeed?”

I pulled out my updated pyramid—graduated from a napkin to a proper journal entry—and told him about Will’s use of the term “trailblazing.”

“Trailblazers do more than teach,” I continued. “They push obstacles out of the way of the people they are serving.” This was really starting to click, to come together, to make sense to me. “They are obliterating red tape,” I continued. I was on a roll. “They are deep-sixing all the nonsense policies and sweeping away all the barriers that keep people from success. Their success lies in clearing the path for others to succeed.” (Yes, I noted the paradox—and added it to my growing list!)

“The Serving Leader is a trailblazer,” I concluded, now fully feeling my rhythm. “All levels of leadership in an organization trailblaze for their teams, teaching and removing obstacles, and the team members then do it for their own teams. Bang! Now we’ve got enough clear running room for a whole company to really accelerate down the track!”

Ali liked it. He took another forty-five minutes to tell me how much he liked it and—I guess I’ll just say it—to really pour on the affirmation. If my mother had been awake to hear it, she’d have warned me about getting a swelled head. No danger. It’s my heart that’s swelling.

After Ali left the house, the hour quite late, I thought again of that great picture of my dad making his own sprint down the track. That set me thinking.

There’s a painful irony about my dad’s leadership. He is truly the expert in Serving Leadership. And yet his son doesn’t feel that he ever got much benefit from it.

I always thought my dad had set an unreachable leadership standard. I didn’t know how to reach it, that’s for sure. And if I couldn’t reach his standard, then I’d never be able to reach him. I may as well have been a welfare client staring across the uncrossable gulf between myself and the well-dressed professional looking over my claim. That’s the feeling—I could never hope to reach his standard. I could never hope to be like him. At the deepest level, I could never hope. So why even bother trying?

But the truth is, my dad is far from perfect, and I’m sure he knows it acutely, probably painfully.

So he’s not perfect, yet look at all the incredible goodness he’s unleashed.

In the past, I felt terribly angry about this. There was no hope that Dad would ever really be in my corner—I would never be able to do enough to win his favor—and all the while he was always in everyone else’s corner! He was out there blazing trails for other people, removing their obstacles, never doing it for me. Honestly, he wasn’t even around enough to know what my obstacles were.

So how do I feel about this now? Now I feel, well, hopeful. Just hopeful. How about that. My father’s not perfect, and yet he’s done such great good. And I’m not perfect, either. So maybe, like father, like son.

Dad has opted for radiation. I bagged my plans for a while. Time to be with Dad. I told Ali I was going to look for some hands-on experience, didn’t I? So where exactly was I planning to look?