Part 2 | Leadership: #unfilteredaf

Author's Note: This is the second entry in a series about the necessity of seeking and providing unfiltered feedback to leaders. To read the first article, click here. Some of the names have been changed to protect the identity of people in my stories. However, colleagues and others who have worked with me or were involved in certain events will likely know who certain people are simply by the nature of events. These stories merely serve as insight into what has molded me as a person and a leader who continues to learn and develop. If you know the true identity of a person – please do not post their name.

ACT 1 || THE CONFERENCE

The smell of brewed coffee and sweet pastries filled the air as I walked through the conference corridor of the Holiday Inn located on the outskirts of San Antonio. I was in attendance for the annual worldwide conference of Air Force Mental Health professionals. Flight Commanders, Flight Chiefs, and other leaders across the profession gathered on a yearly basis to learn, network, and receive information about changes to medical practices within our service and across the DOD.

One of my AFSC’s (Air Force Specialty Code; MOS [Army/Marines] or Rating [Navy] – my job series) senior enlisted leaders approached me and I immediately recognized him as SMSgt (E-8) Long. I’d spoken to him several times on the phone, as he was responsible for overseeing mental health technicians across dozens of locations. This was my first time meeting him in person. Our conversation proceeded as follows (summarized):

SMSgt Long: “SSgt Patterson, how’s it going? It’s great to see you here.”

Me: “Hey SMSgt Long, it’s great to finally meet you in person. How have you been?”

SMSgt Long: “I’ve been alright. How are things going back at [home station]? I know you guys have been without senior leadership for a while and SMSgt Sanders has been filling in as your Flight Chief alongside her Squadron Superintendent duties.”

Caught slightly off-guard, I paused. I wasn’t ready for this type of discussion – especially before I had my wake-up juice (coffee). He saw my hesitation in answering. I knew there were issues back at my home station, but I didn't know if I could communicate that to a senior leader. As a SSgt (E-5) and one of our Element NCOICs, I felt like I was in a precarious position. Do I tell this senior leader the truth? Do I polish a turd and tell him something untrue and hope he reads between the lines? That would lack integrity and I don’t think that’s the right answer.

Noticing my hesitation, SMSgt Long reassuringly stated, “Its okay. We can talk in confidence. I just need to know what is going on.”

With that statement, I felt comforted that I could be honest with him. Besides, the situation at one of the Air Force's largest mental health clinics was surely important enough to warrant unfiltered feedback. This was a leader who displayed compassion for my hesitation and a caring attitude and desire to know the truth.

I said, “Well sir, I don’t think it was the best idea for SMSgt Sanders to take on our Flight Chief duties. She is a Medical Lab Tech by trade and, in my opinion, doesn’t have the clinical patient-care or clinical business experience needed to run a specialty Mental Health Flight. We have so many clinical nuances and intricacies along with being governed by over 20 AFIs, DODIs, DODDs, USCs, and other regulations. It’s very different than running a medical laboratory. Things are getting missed and I just feel like things are falling apart. I’m concerned for patient care and I think the rest of us in the flight are doing all we can to ensure things run as smoothly as possible, but it’s hard. When I bring some of these concerns up, I don’t feel that I’m taken seriously and I don’t see changes or action.”

With that, SMSgt Long thanked me for the feedback and stated that he appreciated my candor. He assured me that this discussion would remain between us and that he needed to know the truth so he could take relevant actions if needed. The remainder of the conference went off without a hitch, so at the end of the week, I flew back to my home station.

ACT 2 || HOSTILE FIRE

As the following week rolled on, our Flight Chief/Squadron Superintendent, SMSgt Sanders, wanted to meet as a large group with all NCOs in the flight. I wasn’t sure what this NCO-call would entail, but I assumed it would be similar to other such meetings. She would pass along information, we would provide feedback or suggestions, and receive information about upcoming events, requirements, patient care issues, or other clinical information. As I filtered into the room with my dozen or so fellow SSgts from the flight – we had zero TSgts (E-6) and zero MSgts (E-7) in our flight at the time – we settled into chairs around the large conference room table with SMSgt Sanders at the head. This NCO-call proved to be something I’d never experienced before – nor have I experienced since – and for good reason.

SMSgt Sanders was a force to be reckoned with. She was a hard-charging SNCO who shot through the ranks and was on her way to Chief. I thought the way she led was harsh and came across as unnecessarily boorish. I felt that she expected a lot from her NCOs and SNCOs, which I appreciated, but I felt that her approach needed significant improvement. Some people viewed her as a mentor, but the vast majority of people I knew and interacted with regularly had similar views as mine.

Crinkling the plastic container, SMSgt Sanders picked up her fork and began eating her salad. Looking down as she was eating, in between bites of leafy greens, she opened our meeting with, “Does anyone in this room disagree with the way I am running this flight? If so, you better speak up.”

In stunned silence, the table filled with brand new and experienced SSgts alike, began looking around at one another. Sure, some of us talked among ourselves about issues we were having within our elements or how we could ensure certain patient care items could be improved. Some of us trusted one another enough to lean on someone if we needed help. We knew SMSgt Sanders was trying, but we also knew things were getting dropped. We didn’t want patients to get hurt, we didn’t want the flight to fall, and we cared too much about patients to allow anything negative to occur. Some of the NCOs, I’m sure, had no problem with the way things were going. However, I’d go out on a limb and say that was likely the minority of the group who felt that way.

Sensing she may not get a direct answer, SMSgt Sanders raised her voice and bellowed, “I’ll say it again. Does anyone in this room disagree with the way I am running this flight? If so, speak up now. This will be your only chance.”

“Yes. I do.”

I wasn’t quite sure where those words came from, but they somehow materialized from my mouth. I immediately felt my face get flush, heart rate increase, and my hands began to tremble ever so slightly. The battle lines were drawn. Player 1 and Player 2 have entered the ring. In the Blue corner, we have SSgt Patterson. He is 2 centimeters tall and brings a thumbtack with him into the ring for defense. This poor guy doesn’t have a chance in hell. In the Red corner, we have SMSgt Sanders. She is 10 feet tall, bulletproof, and stomps on anyone in her path with massive boots made of solid steel.

SMSgt Sanders: “Oh Sergeant Patterson, I know you don’t agree.”

Me: “I just felt like it would be hypocritical for me to disagree and not speak up. I don’t think I’m the only one here who doesn’t really agree.”

SMSgt Sanders: “Well, I know for a fact you have an issue with the way things are being run, because I got a phone call from SMSgt Long. It seems that you had a conversation with him on your TDY and you had a lot to say.”

I felt my heart drop into my stomach… which then dropped to my feet. At this point, I wanted to reverse time and grab those words that somehow slipped between my lips and made their way into the universe. At that moment, I would have done anything to take it all back. SMSgt Sanders was not someone to piss off.

My mind began racing…

“What all did he tell her? Why did he tell her about our conversation?! I thought he understood the importance of using that information strategically! Doesn’t he know that she would fry me if he told her what we talked about?! I gave HIM unfiltered feedback – NOT her – I knew better than to give her that type of feedback!

I didn’t tell SMSgt Long those things to get SMSgt Sanders in trouble. I told him those things in confidence with the notion that he could make decisions to help our clinic and keep a closer pulse on what’s going on. I don’t think any leader genuinely believes they’re screwing things up or intentionally does things in a way that is detrimental to a team or organization. I know SMSgt Sanders doesn’t want honest unfiltered feedback. She needs it packaged differently. I’m screwed.”

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally muttered, “Oh. He asked me directly how I thought things were going. I told him my honest perspective.”

Keep in mind: This entire confrontation was happening in front of all my peers. Every friend, colleague, professional peer that I worked with on a daily basis – some of whom I’d worked with or known for 4 years at that point.

Still eating her salad and seemingly unfazed, SMSgt Sanders asked, “So tell me, what is your ‘honest perspective’ on how I am running this flight?”

Me: “Ma’am, I can only speak for myself, although I believe others may feel the same way. I feel like I bring issues to you and you don’t take me seriously. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m a Staff Sergeant or what, but I feel like you don’t take my feedback into consideration.”

SMSgt Sanders: “Oh, okay. How do you know I don’t take it into consideration?”

Me: “I don’t know. I just don’t see action and I don’t get feedback from you. I know you have a lot of experience, but I don’t think you have run a mental health clinic before and I don’t think you understand a lot of nuances of mental health clinical care.”

SMSgt Sanders: “I’m a Senior Master Sergeant and the Superintendent for the largest Squadron in the Medical Group. Don’t you think I understand a thing or two?”

Me: “Yes ma’am, I understand that. It’s just that mental health is specialty care and there are a ton of different dynamics.”

SMSgt Sanders: “So you think you could do a better job than me? You think you can run this flight better than I can?”

Feeling the pressure – along with the sarcastic tone – I just wanted to escape. I felt smaller than an ant and I just wanted this whole thing to be over.

Me: “No ma’am, I don’t.”

SMSgt Sanders: “Then let me run the flight. Thank you.”

The rest of the tornadic meeting was a blur from that point. I don’t remember what occurred after that – I was just happy her bullseye was no longer on my face. I had a bone to pick with SMSgt Long. I felt completely betrayed and felt physically ill. I wanted to throw up, but I hadn’t eaten. I wasn’t hungry. I just wanted to disappear. I had no idea what other people in that room felt, nor how they felt about me speaking up. Someone needed to say something – I just didn’t know it would be me.

I felt alone and isolated. Like being on a tiny island in the middle of an ocean with cruise ships sailing past in the distance. You know help is there – but you can’t get rescued no matter how loud you scream. You started a massive bonfire, so you know they can see the smoke. They know someone needs to be rescued. Maybe they don’t know how to get to him. Maybe they would rather turn away and worry about the ship staying on course. There comes a point when that guy on the island knows his survival depends on himself. No one else is going to rescue him.

He will have to make a choice:

1. Stay on the island and keep to himself. Maybe sustain life on that little island for a while, but eventually all the resources will run out. Then what? He hasn’t solved anything – only keeping the status quo – and eventually he will starve to death. At least it’s an easy, quiet death.
2. Figure out the best way to make his jaunt towards help. Surely he can engineer some sort of life raft to get closer to the shipping lanes for rescue. But… if the people on the ships knew he was on the island and they didn’t made an attempt to help, does he really think they’ll help him if he’s closer? What if he makes it out there and no one stops or throws a rope? Now he’s shark bait.
3. Take inventory of the island’s resources and devise a plan for current life sustainment, with the end goal of getting off this forsaken island; keep strong and build more strength. Understand that long-term survival entails learning from the environment, using the resources advantageously, and getting to mainland. If he can do this – he will be stronger and smarter. He will either sink or swim. It all depends on his determination, attitude, and internal dialogue.
4. Give up. This isn’t an option. Not for him. Not for me.

Later that day, I called SMSgt Long and asked why he told SMSgt Sanders about our discussion. I pled with him that I told him that information in confidence because I knew how things would transpire otherwise. He stated that he has the right to do what he wishes with the information he is given. He valued SMSgt Sanders’ leadership and input. He wasn’t concerned about backlash on me. He then stated that SMSgt Sanders would continue running the flight, whether I liked it or not.

What? Is this the same guy I put all my trust in just last week?!

Needless to say, I wanted nothing to do with him from that point forward. In the aftermath, trust was a word that was completely foreign to me and it took a couple of years to figure out how to trust anyone in a leadership position. I want that to sink in for a moment. One single encounter resulted in the destruction of a person's sense of trust in leadership so significantly that it took YEARS before I could come to terms with trusting again. One experience. That's all it takes to destroy a person's foundation of trust in leadership.

ACT 3 || AFTER ACTION REPORT

The initial whiplash of that situation stung pretty bad; however, I took it as a valuable teaching moment. I vowed that I would never become the type of leader these people were. I would value trust, honesty, and hard truths. I would be a leader who could be trusted and a leader who could set aside his ego for the betterment of the organization and the team. Upon doing some self-reflection, I realized that prior to that point, I let my ego drive various decisions. I was usually more concerned with looking stupid or incompetent while balancing the needs of others. Not anymore. From that point forward, I realized things needed to change within me first.

As you can probably tell, that event left a significant impact on me. I learned that some people are simply ill-equipped to handle unfiltered feedback. Coming from a Psychology background, I have my own views on how and why they acted in that manner. However, I also took that lesson as a call-to-action, which has led me to where we are today.

Giving unfiltered feedback is never about making someone look stupid or incompetent. It’s about saying STOP when things are going sideways. It’s about calling the situation, circumstances, idea, etc, what it truly is - as opposed to what someone wants to believe it is. As a leader, how can you make informed decisions when you are told everything is fine, yet in reality, the world is burning around you?

The catch is… some leaders love to live in blissful ignorance.

But that’s the topic of a future article. 

It may seem like I aired dirty laundry, but I wanted to use an example of how far off the rails things can go and what the ‘other side’ of leadership can look like. I’ve seen it, I’ve lived it, and I’ve overcome it. You can too. That experience changed and emboldened me. If anything, it proves why #unfilteredaf is so damn important. People, we do not have the luxury of waiting another 8 years to purge bad leaders! Not all people want to be leaders. That’s okay. Some people want to be leaders, but they don’t understand that it’s a difficult, lonely, often thankless job and it’s far less glamorous than it may appear.

Just so you know: both of the aforementioned leaders promoted to E-9 and subsequently retired.