The Serving Leader

Ali suggested I try my hand at writing a job description for the Serving Leader. Though it’s been nearly two months since I finished this journal, rereading it now confirms in my mind that it captures reasonably well the key elements of what I learned from my father and his friends—well, my friends now, too. There is much to flesh out, of course, but I’ve not really had time lately to do it. I think I’m ready to give it a try.

Hey, Dad! Take a look!

SERVING LEADERS

• Run to great purpose by holding out in front of their team, business, or community a “reason why” that is so big that it requires and motivates everybody’s very best effort.

• Upend the pyramid of conventional management thinking. They put themselves at the bottom of the pyramid and unleash the energy, excitement, and talents of the team, the business, and the community.

• Raise the bar of expectation by being highly selective in the choice of team leaders and by establishing high standards of performance. These actions build a culture of performance throughout the team, business, or community.

• Blaze the trail by teaching Serving Leader principles and practices and by removing obstacles to performance. These actions multiply the Serving Leader’s impact by educating and activating tier after tier of leadership.

• Build on strength by arranging each person in the team, the business, or the community to contribute what he or she is best at. This improves everyone’s performance and solidifies teams by aligning the strengths of many people.

The whole time I was working on this—from my first day at the Pyramid Club to my last day with Rock in the Crow’s Nest—I was scratching down notes about the paradoxes of Serving Leadership. Dad had urged me to watch for them, and the more I watched, the more I saw. What do you have to say about these paradoxes, Dad? Not too bad a list, huh?

THE SERVING LEADER—A PARADOX IN AND OF ITSELF!

Run to Great Purpose

To do the most possible good, strive for the impossible. Sustain the self’s greatest interest in pursuits beyond self-interest.

Upend the Pyramid

You qualify to be first by putting other people first. You’re in charge principally to charge up others.

Raise the Bar

To serve the many, you first serve the few. The best reach-down is a challenging reach-up.

Blaze the Trail

To protect your value, you must give it all away. Your biggest obstacle is the one that hinders someone else.

Build on Strength

To address your weaknesses, focus on your strengths. You can’t become the best unless others do, too.

I don’t feel there’s a lot more to write down—except to say that I wish my dad could read these lines.

Dad died a month ago. Since then, I’ve been pretty busy rearranging my life. I’ve also spent quite a bit of time just hanging out—with Charlie and my crew in Boston some, with my friends in Philadelphia more, with Mom a lot, and mostly with myself. I have so much to reflect on right now, and I don’t want to jet right through this period of my life. I’m taking the train.

I miss my dad.

I write that sentence, and it looks like a sentence I’ve been writing in one way or another my whole lifetime. Except it’s very different now. I used to miss Dad, wondering what he thought of me, wondering if he was proud of me, wondering how much he loved me. I had literally missed him. Our lives didn’t hit, we hadn’t connected.

Now I miss being with the man whose life I had the good fortune of not missing. I miss the man who knew and loved me greatly. Indeed, I don’t feel I’ve missed anything, if that makes sense. Dad and I finished what was important to finish, and now I have a lifetime ahead to try to honor his life, and my own. I miss him, but he feels very, very close.

Dad failed very quickly after our day with Rock. It was his time, and I honestly think he felt like he had finished the race—his lifelong, flat-out, chest-first sprint to the tape. I spent every waking hour with him those last three and a half weeks, and more than a few sleeping hours at the hospital, too. Mom and I celebrated his seventieth birthday at his bedside. A quiet celebration. Dad was in and out of consciousness that day, but Mom and I weren’t going to miss the moment. If Dad was going to finish strong, then so were we!

Robert Taylor Wilson. July 27, 1933, to August 3, 2003. Survived by his wife of forty-seven years, Margaret Shoemaker Wilson of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and by one son, Robert Michael Wilson of Boston, Massachusetts. It’s remarkable how little gets recorded in the end.

As per Dad’s instructions, his headstone added the spare notation: “A Serving Leader, Matthew 20:25–28.” I looked it up.

But Jesus called them to him and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you; but whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave; even as the Son of man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

One correction is needed; it isn’t Robert Michael Wilson of Boston, Massachusetts, anymore. It’s Robert Michael Wilson of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania—of Greenwood, to be more specific. Dorothy Hyde and I negotiated a modest office suite inside Aslan’s new branch in Greenwood for me and a couple of coworkers from my firm. I’m practicing my new skills of careful selection, à la the Serving Leader model. With Charlie’s blessing, we’re locating our new leadership development practice in this office, and I was allowed to interview throughout the firm to select team leaders who grasp how promising this Serving Leader model is.

We’re committed to introducing our clients to the principles practiced by the Dorothy Hydes and Admiral Butlers of the world. My new crew has joined me in this purpose. We have continued to work on our upside-down model of leadership—our Serving Leader Pyramid. Here’s the picture we use, reorganized with purpose at the foundation.

In response to Rock’s challenge, I have chosen to serve those leaders who are committed to becoming Serving Leaders in their businesses and communities. It all crystallized for me—Dad’s example, Rock’s challenge, all the inspiration I received from Dorothy Hyde. It has become the passion of my heart.

Greenwood serves us in remarkable ways. It keeps the crew and me immersed in the best living laboratory we could find. The very principles we will teach and coach are found in the heart of this community. Dad called Greenwood our best hope, and I understand now what he meant.

Innovation takes place rapidly in places like Greenwood. With the freedom afforded by “nothing left to lose,” Serving Leaders like Dorothy Hyde are fearless in improving their practices. Failure is allowed. Experimentation, innovation, and perseverance are their lifeblood. These qualities are their stock-in-trade. What better place is there to stay ahead of the curve?

There are other reasons to be here, too. Mom needs me. I’m going to stake my reputation as a Serving Leader on whether I am one as her son. It seems only fair.

And, okay, there’s Anna. Yes, she keeps calling and stopping by. And, yes, I’ve also been calling and stopping by. And, well, we’ll see. That’s really all I want to say about that. If Dad were reading this, I’m sure he’d be issuing his customary snort right about now.

Well, then, finally, this was my place of birth and, in a real sense, the place of my birth again. In Boston, I had an apartment, an office, and air connections to many disconnected places. And that was important and good. I’m not changing everything. I sense that I’m not supposed to waste all that training and preparation. I’m a consultant—and I’m pretty good at it. I want to build on that rather than throw it away.

But in Philadelphia, I’m rooted in community. I’m rooted in important relationships, and I want it this way!

Hey, Dad, I’m thinking right now that you probably are reading this, just to see how it finishes up. I hope that you are. Charlie said I should write this journal so we could turn it into something useful for our clients. Maybe we’ll still do that, but frankly, Dad, I can’t imagine any greater satisfaction than I felt the day I watched your face as you read through some of these pages. I saw it in your eyes—your love for me and the value you placed on my life.

So, Dad, thank you. You ran a great race. I will finish what you started!

January 2005