Leadership Begins at Home

As a testament to business and education leaders everywhere who more brightly shine at work than at home, I want to share a bit of my life over the past 72 hours. I am beginning to believe that, if we have become any good at all at leading our organizations, our practice, for better or worse, will have endured its greatest challenges at home. Case in point, a birthday party for my daughter last night.

Caitlin is our youngest child, now 23 years old. Caitlin graduated from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill last December with a major in voice. She aspires to a career in music production and marketing, and to that end, is interning for six weeks with the Eastern Music Festival in Guilford College, former summer home of classical luminaries Wynton Marsalis and Yo Yo Ma. Of course, we are proud of Caitlin, but raising her, as all daughters' parents know, was no picnic. But that's for another blog.

Caitlin's ultimate success in life will be due to the same qualities that she employed to influence my wife and I to host a birthday blowout for her and a few close friends on the heels of two other major celebrations for which we were responsible this week. If you know me well, you know that I am an introvert, neither shy nor reserved, just one who derives his energy from his private time. Only now on a Sunday afternoon, is my private time happening. Thank God for this blog.

Deborah, my wife and Caitlin's stepmom, had planned a gourmet meal for the event, most of which was to be grilled on our patio by your's truly at about 6:30 last night. Of course, our deck and picnic table had been decorated and adorned with loving detail for friends and relatives from far and wide, all of whom arrived within 15 minutes of each other. Does anyone know what happened in and around Raleigh last night around 6:30 pm, give or take half an hour? That's right. We enjoyed a great dinner inside.

Our enjoyment was preceeded, however, by 20 minutes of storm-and-mojito-fueled mania punctuated by incredilous shouts of, "I thought you charged the camera battery last night!" "The placemats are flying over the deck!" "For god's sake, get the seat cushions inside!" "Where's the directions for this thing?" and "I told you it was going to rain!" But the promise of the perfect birthday was not yet fulfilled.

Like most 20-somethings, my daughter and her friends enjoy downtown nightlife. In the weeks preceeding her birthday, Caitlin had somehow attained from us a commitment to transport her and her friends from our home in North Raleigh to the Moore Square area. I foolishly declined the intelligent option of renting a limo and proposed that Deb and I, using two sedans, taxi the entourage to and from Tir Na Nog, the popular Irish pub on Blount Street in downtown Raleigh.

When dinner ended around 9:00 pm, I arose from the table announcing,"We're ready to go if you are." Here is where I learned that socially-adept people do not arrive on the club scene until 11:00 pm. Dog-tired from the homeowners association early-morning garage sale and afternoon cookout, Deb and I departed for our bedroom to catch a nap. At 10:30 pm, my son and Caitlin's confederate, Chris, awoke the old folks to their duty.

One 40-minute trip to and from downtown Raleigh, one back-to-normal kitchen, three bags of party garbage and recycled adult beverage containers, one episode of Saturday Night Live, and a far-too-short nap later, a call from Chris came again, this time to fetch the Birthday Bunch from the club. Once home, the party continued until about 3:45 am, while Deb and I struggled to fall asleep upstairs. When Caitlin arose at the crack of noon today, she said for the tenth time in ten hours: "I love you guys. This was one of my best birthdays ever. I feel very grateful to have parents like you." I felt like a hero.

An act of leadership? You decide. Admitedly, there were moments of barely-masked anxiety amid frustrated plans for an outside dinner and definite feelings of bewilderment at young folks' inability to square a beer bottle with a coaster, but you know what? I would do it all again. The gift of a grateful family is without equal. And I will wager you this: If we love our employees and our customers as we love our families, we can be their heroes too.

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