Another Role You Can Play

It's easy to understand why you think you should be the hero. All our entertainment tells you that's the role. They talk about "the one" in so many movies and books that it's hard to remember that there are all kinds of other roles. You don't HAVE to be the hero. I'll give you another amazing role: support.

My Mom and Dad Taught Me About the Support Role

Growing up, my mom and dad wanted me to be the hero, and boy, I sure liked that role. You know me. I have a natural proclivity to want to lead and meddle and insert myself. And I'll admit, I didn't pay as much attention to what my parents were doing in all these instances until much later in life. Looking back.

When I was in Boy Scouts and we'd be on some week long Camporee deep in the woods (hah! Almost in eye sight of a parking lot), we'd stay up late, drink spring water from our canteens, and cook in our stupid tin mess kits. By 'cook,' we'd push around some ground beef that we'd left out a day or two with some crumpled up Granola bars, usually seasoned with embers from the campfire. After a day or two of eating that, beef jerky, and camp pasta (noodles and sauce and flakes of wood from the fire), and drinking way too much water for a Kool-Aid drinking bunch of youths, my folks would show up.

They'd bring a big cardboard box full of Doritos, Fritos, corn chips, cans of soda (the cheap no name stuff like "Dr Thunder"), and candy. My friends would dig in while the Scoutmasters all rolled their eyes, watching my folks unravel all those self-sufficiency lessons they were trying to teach us. Everyone was instantly happy (and coked up on all that sugar and grease and salt and preservatives).

What Came Next

After this, the real lesson came out. They'd fed us exactly what we want, but that was just our bellies. Every single time, I'd witness something else that was even more powerful. I'd see all my friends, some of them real tough guys, tripping over themselves to tell my parents all their accomplishments.

It'd all blur together.

"I shot a bullseye in archery! I did the mile swim! Wanna see my badge? Our patrol won 'best tent setup!'" On and on. My mom has a smile that would melt a yeti. My dad nods along like he wishes he could be there doing it with you. They'd barely say actual sentences. Just "Oh wow! Good! Amazing!" Dad would try his hand at current slang. "Gnarly. Tubular." (Nobody said "tubular" but my dad and TV commercials.)

These kids weren't used to attention. Their parents sent them to Boy Scouts to be rid of them for a while. Kids were a duty. My parents surely felt that from time to time. My little brother and I ate like locusts. It wasn't always easy. But wow, we had attention and love and support.

The Support Role is Super Important

I get to play this role a lot. My actual professional title of "Chief of Staff" means that my core role is to support my CEO. Now, I don't pat his head and praise his archery skills. But you know what's just as true? People forget to praise their bosses for great work.

The rest of the time, I get to support people in the organization. I think about my mom's amazing smile, my dad's attempts to get right on their level. It drives my interactions at every turn. I don't need to be Luke; I need to be a more huggy Yoda.

It's not hard to choose to do this. You just have to be active about it. People do wonderful things all the time. They whittle bird whistles at work every day. You just have to say, "Hey, I really liked that knowledge management document you wrote" and "Wow, I'm so lucky you're in charge of the budget, because we weren't as good at managing it before." Be kind. It's SO easy to be kind.

The Magic Trick

My mom and dad are beloved by MANY people. They get more holiday cards than anyone I know. They have more surrogate children out in the universe than I can count. When they show up at events, people stop talking to the "important" people there to come and catch up with my folks, and to brag to them, I have to imagine.

Similarly, a lot of people say nice things about me and remember me kindly. They'll say, "I had a really meaningful conversation with Chris the last time we spent time together." And what they really mean (they don't know this) is that I encouraged them to talk and brag and show off and explore and be their best hero selves. They remember it as if I was somehow good or amazing or interesting. I just encouraged them to talk about themselves.

You can do this. You can do it every day. You don't have to be the hero all the time (or ever!). You can pour into people and empower them. And the more people you raise up like this, the more powerful allies you build around you. I don't have to be nearly as amazing as I used to be. Because I have so many amazing people in my life.

Doesn't that sound like fun?

Chris...