5 Key Lessons in Leadership from My Time as Barney the Dinosaur

My mother Miriam is a professional children’s entertainer. And while rooms of Power Ranger helmets, clown wigs and mascot heads made for some pretty awkward adolescent moments, being raised by someone with a deeply intrinsic passion for making kids smile was every bit as awesome as it sounds.

Except, that is, for the times I had to dress up as Barney.

Entertaining at kids’ birthday parties was my very first gig as a young kid growing up in Indiana.?

At the age of nine, I went along as my mom’s special ‘helper’, passing latex balloons through the shadowy, cavernous mouths of giant mascot heads so she could blow them up and transform them into swords and dogs on a leash without taking off her costume.

A couple years later, I graduated to face painting. And a couple years after that, Barney.

Barney was the big bucks. If being the backup face painter brought in $5 per hour, being Barney brought $60 an hour. Not too shabby when you’re 15 years old.

And it was in that sweaty oven of a big purple head that I earned my first hard-won lessons in leadership. Lessons that I still carry with me today.

1. Presence is everything.

Here’s a newsflash — it is incredibly difficult to hear from inside a giant Barney head.

And on top of that, kids’ birthday parties are extremely noisy.

But as Barney, none of that matters.

The way you communicate with a five-year-old on their birthday can literally define their lifelong memory of that special day — especially when you are their hero.

No matter how hard it is, you’ve got to tune in, listen up, and reach for the fun.

Even in the middle of August. Even when spinning around in a circle with “I love you, you love me, we’re a happy family” reverberating through your brain. There is no excuse for ignoring the birthday girl.

The way you show up sets the tone for the entire experience of everyone around you.

Great leaders know that even when things get chaotic, you simply cannot coast.

2. It’s not always gonna be glamorous.

My first major corporate job was extremely glamorous compared to my early work experiences as Barney the Dinosaur.

Roughly every two months, I was at a different five-star venue. From the Cannes Le Meridien to Dubai’s Burj Al Arab, I got to wine and dine with c-level executives from some of the most innovative companies in the world.

But when I became a parent and decided to strike out on my own, the reality of leading myself quickly set in.

On the days when the babies were crying, the deadlines were real, and the contracts were slow to come, memories of “Barn-dog” (as my mom would call him) reminded me that it’s all ok because I’m doing what I love.

No matter how challenging, at the end of the day the thing that lights you up is the same thing that will calm your heart, nourish your soul and — if you give yourself the time and space to get good at it — provide for you and your family no matter how hard things get.

3. It’s ok to f*ck up, as long as you own it.

Pardon me while interrupt this Barney moment with a quick clown story.

When I was about 12 years-old, my mom hired me to be her clown’s assistant. She gave me clear instructions to dress up as a clown.

But I was 12 and I didn’t feel like dressing up. So when my dad asked, “Aren’t you supposed to be a clown for this one?” I pretended like the instructions weren’t clear.

He drove me 45 minutes to the corporate event where my mom — a.k.a. Funnie the Clown — was already set up, her third back-to-back event of the day, with a line of kids ready to have their faces painted.

When she saw me stroll up in my street clothes, it was all she could do not to break character.

One look at Funnie’s face and I knew I f*cked up.

In the car on the way home, I immediately started explaining myself – sticking to my story that I was confused about her instructions.

Funnie didn’t want to hear it. But instead of berating me, she just turned and looked at me and said, “They paid for two clowns — not one.”

And that was the end of the conversation.

From that day on, I knew that mistakes — and also “mistakes” in quotations — would happen in the world of work.

The only thing that really matters is the level of integrity and accountability you meet them with.

4. Not everyone’s going to love you — and that’s ok

The red faces. The screaming kids. The apologetic parents.?

You saw this one coming, right?

I’ll be honest, I still don’t understand masklophobia (and yes, I have seen Willy’s Wonderland ).

But if there’s one thing being a leader will teach you, it’s that you don’t have to understand something to accept it.

At nearly 40 years old, my leadership style is eerily similar to what it was when I was 14.

Endlessly curious and prone to oversharing, I like to bring an element of fun and relatability to pretty much every work-related task.?

In the same 30-minute work call, I can happily discuss the pleasures of pet parenthood, then move swiftly into a deep discussion about target personas for a major B2B rebrand.?

Some folks get it. Others don’t.

Point is, no matter how much you value the work itself — it’s the people around it that make it worth (or not worth) doing.

Now that I’m responsible for my own business, I’ve learned to handle the folks who don’t get me in much the same way Barney the Dinosaur would handle a screaming toddler.

Simply turn and walk away.?

(Oh, and try not to knock out any kids with your tail in the process. ??)

5. You can’t win it if your heart’s not in it.

Ultimately, being Barney wasn’t my calling.

And while I had a good run in the big purple suit, I eventually got a job as a barista at a local vegan cafe.

But that decision wasn’t easy. I idolized my mom. She was (and still is) the coolest, funniest, hardest working woman I knew. I wanted to be just like her.

But looking out through Barney’s big ol’ mouth, I could feel that I just didn’t have the same spark for children’s entertainment as she did.

And I think that’s when I realized that, no matter how cool a job seems or how well it pays — if it doesn’t light you up, it just isn’t worth it.

Today, I’m happy that I found my bliss in copywriting. And I’m forever grateful to Miriam — and of course, Barney — for those early leadership lessons that got me where I am today.