The Tale of the "Bossy Boss" (Continued)

    Here is the hard part. Your questions need to be open-ended, rather than answered by a "yes" or "no." So remember to begin your questions with "What," "When," "Where" and "How."

    First, find a private time when you and your boss will not be interrupted. You might start by saying "I've been thinking about what you said about being 'too sensitive' and since sensitivity is an important issue in the workplace I was wondering, 'How have you managed people you felt were sensitive throughout your career?'" This is an accountability question that will help your boss face the issue that is bigger than just your interaction with each other. It is always best to depersonalize an issue and take it to the "realm of everyone."

    The next step is critically important. Rather than the typical knee jerk response to whatever he says simply ask him to expand on his comments. We all need time to go beyond the obvious and find the truth that lies underneath the words. Simple sentences like "Can you tell me more?" Or, "I'd like to hear more about what you just said." or "Can you elaborate?" Don't be afraid to ask and then ask again. You may be surprised at where the dialogue ends up. What you do may be helpful to you, your boss and all the other "sensitive" people with whom he works.

    People who tend to bully others often feel insecure and inferior. Reacting in a bossy way keeps others at a distance and prevents them from revealing the real truth. The highest form of a great relationship is when we can help each other see ourselves so we can make conscious change. Remember, at the heart of every bully or bossy boss is a sensitive person.

Patterns in Play (Continued)

    Between the salad and the main course, Dan asked a favor of Lisa, the organizational consultant who was helping to facilitate the team’s work together. “Please,” he said. “Please could you stop using the ‘F’ word?” Lisa almost fell off her chair. She had only thought the obscenity out of her own frustration and wondered if he could be a mind reader. “What do you mean?” Lisa said with a slight nervous twinge. “You know the ‘F’ word. You keep asking me how I feel.” Lisa burst out laughing. “It’s not funny”, said Dan. “Every time you ask me how I feel I panic inside. I don’t know how I feel. I only know what I think.” He looked at her shyly. “I’m curious, Lisa”, said Dan. “Do most men have trouble with that feeling stuff or am I in a small minority?” “No Dan,” said Lisa. “You are not alone. I have to thank you for reminding me that talking about this feeling stuff is still new in the corporate world.”

    Lisa was glad dinner was almost over. It had been a long and tedious first day of teambuilding that went nowhere. The morning began with the usual rules of engagement. Everyone was polite, political and cautious. They had all expressed their frustration about their boss, Dan, in the pre-meeting consults. The business unit was in the bottom quadrant of company sales. The numbers were flat and they felt stuck.

    One major theme that came from this group of seasoned sales executives was that their boss looked at life through rose-colored glasses. He only wanted to hear pleasantries. Problems were pretended away. As someone said sarcastically “Denial is more than a river in Egypt.” Lisa had worked with many groups that started teambuilding on a superficial level. Usually by the first afternoon, however, there was a breakthrough and people would begin to talk openly. This team was different.

    As dessert was served, Lisa was thinking about the little boy in the fairytale who blew the cover of denial when he yelled out at the parade “The emperor is naked.” She decided once again to move the conversation with Dan past pleasantries to realness. Leaders, who deny, create cultures of denial. The former US President, Bill Clinton, said “Monica who?” Nixon said “Watergate what?” …and the whole country felt trapped.

    Lisa went in a direction filled with unspoken possibilities. After generalities about diversity, an issue dear to Dan, she asked him about his Chinese heritage. “I don’t feel Chinese, Lisa”, said Dan with chuckle.” Then he laughed out loud, realizing he had just used that awful emotion-based “F” word. “I’m an American”, he said proudly. Dan’s accent clearly said he was not born in the states.

    “How old were you when you came here?” “I was eleven years old and I didn’t know any English,” Dan said proudly. “Dan”, continued Lisa, “I hope my next comment won’t upset you. You are certainly a naturalized American. Yet from what I have studied about language and the nervous system, the Chinese language and, by definition, the Chinese culture is embedded in you in some deep ways. We can hear our mother’s voice at about four and a half months in utero, that’s why the first language we speak is called “the mother tongue.” Dan looked uncomfortable yet interested. “ Lisa then asked a question that would take her on a verbal journey from China to Hong Kong to Taiwan to Korea to Mississippi to Virginia. Quietly she asked, “What was it like to come here at age eleven?” The lights dimmed, the curtain rose and the core of the pattern of denial soon became evident.

    Dan, the middle son, was five when China was in an uproar of political chaos. His father left for Hong Kong to prepare the way for the family to follow. Time passed and Dan had a vague memory of holding his grandmother’s hand as he watched his mother, baby brother in her arms and older brother waving goodbye. That afternoon was calm without the other youngsters and Dan enjoyed grandmother’s attention. Then there was a knock at the door and mother stood, disheveled and crying. “I cannot go without all my children. I know it would be easier to leave Dan here. Three is more than makes sense, but he is my son and he needs to go with us. We are a family and that makes even more sense.

    In Hong Kong, there was an air of frenzy. They had no money and nowhere to go. By some miracle his mother found a neighbor in the bakeshop who took them to their father. There was a blur of events, moving from place to place in Taiwan and then to Korea. His strongest memory was how his mother was sad all the time. He worked hard to make her happy yet the pain of the constant separations created a wall and the whole family moved farther and farther from their feelings.

    “Who knows your story”, Lisa asked hovering somewhere between Asia and the States. “No one. This is not something I talk about. It is the past. I feel American and I believe my life really began when I came to this country.”

    They said their goodnights and agreed to meet for breakfast to prepare for the last day of teambuilding. As Lisa dozed off she thought it was no wonder he didn’t like conflict and wanted everything peaceful. That he chose the world of engineering and now sales where he could use numbers to measure what mattered in life. He had enough chaos in his young years. No wonder he wanted to erase China from his psyche. It had not been a motherland, a nurturing place of safety for him. And yet, it was part of his legacy.

    At breakfast, Lisa noticed that Dan looked exhausted. While his eyes were red with lack of sleep, there was an air of aliveness that was different from his usual controlled manner. He sipped his coffee slowly and said, “I had a dream … a strange dream. I was in an old apartment house with high ceilings and dark, brown mahogany walls. In the distance was a man at a desk. His head was bowed and he was working. I walked toward him, curious. When I got close I saw that he was doing beautiful calligraphy and the man looked up and I was looking at myself. I rarely dream yet this was powerful. I feel – that F word again – I feel calmer, what do you make of it?”

    Lisa was delighted. The dream had helped Dan begin to integrate a part of himself he had denied. Dan and Lisa continued to talk about transforming denial into the clarity of truth. He was ready to become a radical leader. He was ready to be clear, rather than deny. He felt strong and confident. Dan began the meeting that day by talking about the ‘F’ word and how, in these past few days he realized how far he had gone from connecting to his emotions. His only safety was the realm of the mind and what could be measured that was real, especially the bottom line. That was what counted for much of his life. Success and failure were in the numbers. Qualitative was a soft concept and only quantitative really mattered. He shared how he had cut himself off from the rich history of his Chinese ancestors because he had so deeply wanted to be accepted, to belong, and to feel safe in his adopted homeland. He talked about his fear of conflict, his need to see everything through the proverbial rose-colored glasses so he would not ever have to face upset, his or anyone else’s. He then acknowledged each person in the room for the difference he or she had made in his life. Dan’s moment of “truth” and his ability to acknowledge it and share it with the group, changed everything, not only for Dan, but also for every member of the team.

    The environment became one of honesty and appreciation. Dan set the bar high and everyone responded. The air of respect and openness was obvious both inside and outside the company. As a leader Dan helped create a setting for success as the pollution caused by denial was replaced by the freshness of clarity.

    That year Dan’s business unit became number one in sales. They won several awards at the annual sales meeting. Dan sent Lisa a handwritten note rather than e-mail. “You are in our hearts as part of our group. Thanks!” That note was on a beautiful card with a bamboo reed and calligraphy and was accompanied by a special book, The Tao of Leadership. Dan had come home to himself and in so doing has given everyone in his life the gift of clarity and understanding.