The Simon Cowell of it all

Dear friend, today's my birthday! Instead of wishing me a happy birthday, please spread the word about my career retreat tomorrow, which will focus on best practices for job searching and negotiations in the workplace. Sign ups will close 2 hours ahead of the starting time, so please RSVP by 8am ET at the latest.

I am kicking off my birthday weekend with a retreat because I want to stay focused on living in my purpose, and that is empowering others and supporting them through seasons of transition.

Speaking of supporting folks, I wanted to take some time in this newsletter to talk about an unexpected topic... and that is how to deliver tough love.

The Simon Cowell of it all

As I've mentioned in the past, I think of coaching like being a sparring partner for my clients. We spar and rehearse together so they can prepare for the real "fight" outside of our time together.

Sometimes, the only way to practice sparring in the ring is to deliver some tough love (helpful jabs). Usually, it sounds like...

"Listen, when I'm with you, I step in as your best advocate. I think about the 360 degrees of your situation. I try my best to be like Paula Abdul and Randy Jackson when possible. But right now, I have to give you tough love to prepare for a time when you may have to spar with someone like Simon Cowell out in the real world. Here's a thought that I'd like you to consider... [insert constructive feedback]."

You can imagine that I receive a range of responses back when I role play as Simon. Most of the time, I receive gratitude from the other side. "Thanks -- you showed me something new. I really needed to hear that." "You touched on the thing I've felt self-conscious about all this time. But it was important that we processed it, instead of burying it." Sometimes, I hear "It took me a while to process and appreciate what you shared with me, but it's stayed with me and helped me a lot."

I have to thank my high school zoology teacher Mr. Singer for his positive influence on me. He used to always say, "Don't be an ostrich! Don't keep your head in the sand."

I never pull a Simon Cowell to be a contrarian or a grouch with my coachees and mentees. I only put on that act if either I or my listener would be acting like an ostrich otherwise.

Coaching provides us the opportunity to shine a light on our truths, fears and our untapped potential. If we keep our head in the sand, we'd stay complacent and in the dark. By picking our heads up and being honest (even when it may hurt a bit), we move with clarity and vision.

Honesty is a kindness

As I share this with you, I am reminded of a common refrain I'd hear during my early years in DC.

"Older male managers tend to not know how to mentor or provide feedback to younger female direct reports and mentees, so they just tell them they're doing well. Due to their inability to provide critical feedback, their female mentees end up not improving their work performance. On the other hand, they feel more comfortable giving tough love and feedback to their male mentees. So guess who gets the promotion at the end of the day?"

Turns out, this isn't just anecdotal social commentary. According to LeanIn,

60% of managers who are men in the US and 40% of managers who are men in the UK are uncomfortable participating in a common work activity with a woman, such as mentoring, working alone, or socializing together.1

Our duty as leaders

As leaders, coaches and managers--and peers!!--there will be times where we have to deliver tough news. May we be strong and shrewd enough to have brave conversations.

If you are a recovering people pleaser like me and you don't know how or where to start with delivering tough love, here are some reflection questions:

• What is the lesson that I want the other person to walk away with? How can I frame my words so that they can understand 1) where I am coming from and 2) what I hope they will walk away with?
• How can I deliver my message with tact and diplomacy (as little harm as possible)?
• Is there a way I can check in to make sure that now is a good time to have this conversation?
• What would be the lose-lose if I never spoke up and shared my feedback? Where would I be misleading them?
• What do I owe to them regarding their growth and development? How can I hold myself accountable to follow through with this feedback?

A silly note on the way out

My Simon Cowell reference made more sense when I started mentoring millennials in pre-pandemic times. Now that I also work with Gen Z and Gen Alpha, I have to check in with them to make sure they even know who Paula and Randy are. Thankfully American Idol still remains in the zeitgeist, but I know I will need to retire this reference and figure out a more relevant one. That said, I hope my newsletter today made you chuckle--and I hope that it made you think about the kind of leader you want to be.

My own tough love that I have given myself over the years is, "Would doing this make you respect yourself more or less?" That has always helped me follow my own moral compass.

On a more serious note about ethics and what we owe one another, I want to send love to anyone who has been paying attention to the news.

We are living in a fractured time. Perhaps my personal positionality makes it hard for me to feel differently. I am a refugee and immigrant--and a woman of color who grew up in low income and middle class environments. Many of my loved ones are queer. The majority of my clients are also folks from historically marginalized communities. I would be acting like an ostrich with my head in the sand if I did not advocate and support folks who reflect the diversity of where I come from (the Hmong refugee camps of Thailand), where I grew up (the inner city of Syracuse) and who I serve on the daily.

I don't regret seeing the world through the lens of my positionality. Being regarded as different, unwelcome, "Othered" and so forth has usually been what's allowed me to think more strategically, innovatively and compassionately in my work and life. It's helped me foster patience and grit--and it's even helped me understand why some folks lack empathy and inclusive spirits.

Like other Hmong folks in my parents' and grandparents' generations, my father survived being imprisoned in internment "re-education" camps due to being an undocumented citizen (or not having the "right" paperwork). My uncle died as a prisoner of war for being caught as an undocumented Hmong citizen. I am their descendent, and I will not forget their legacy of strength, resourcefulness and being kind and neighborly even during the darkest of times. Moreover, I will always honor their dream to live and thrive beyond sheer survival mode. That is why my business is my Hmong last name -- HAWJ Studio.

With love and an eye towards justice,

Phim