I was hijacked last night into attending a going away celebration for a friend I hadn’t seen in a long time. She’s an amazing person with a strong personality, my favorite feature in my female friends. The party was all former work buddies, and the friend who invited me is another strong smart kick-ass-and take-notes kind of gal. (You see the theme here, don’t you?)
The gathering was held at a little Champaign bar called Flute in the Flatiron District. It was dark and a little smoky from the too-pungent candles burning to mask the stale smells behind the bar. It had that old red curtained look that says simultaneously trying too hard to be a revered neighborhood establishment and brothel. My kidnapper lead me back to the party room, where I saw smiles light up on faces I hadn’t seen in almost a year. These were the people who spent so many hours together with me driving the advertising or web campaign projects forward with little applause from their client audiences. They were, as I remember, motivated by each other’s company and intelligence. (The latter was not in short supply at this particular agency.) I got some hugs, some pats on the back and a few kisses. I had fun years ago with these people. Now I had reason to remember.
The going-away girl was leaving the agency for a new job. It is more than another job, though. It is an opportunity, as the headhunters and realtors like to say. In her case, it’s true. There is a startup, a need, a skill set that she alone possesses. There is a connection through a friend, a cultural match and a nervous expectation on all sides for great delivery of service and performance for a company with big plans. There is a vision.
I loved seeing her so relaxed, holding a $30 glass of Champaign for which the waitress never warned of the price. Somehow my friend, who is French, understood that this was the moment for a slip on extravagance and not a scene with a too-busy and ill-tempered waitress. She turned to me with a smile that said this was not her first glass, then gave me a big hug for the surprise I presented by showing up. At gatherings like these there is only one moment to speak privately with the person being toasted, so I took my cue.
I said in all frankness that I was so happy for the company that hired her. Without taking a breath for her to respond, I continued. I told her she needed to move on, that her full talent was yet to be realized and that her personality, which is brassy and strong, was a magnetic force that drew others to her. I told her that she had charisma, that she was a natural leader, and that she wasn’t yet aware of how powerful a tool that skill really was in the world. I told her this new job is a big responsibility and that we should always take on responsibilities that we are not sure we can handle. That it’s good to be a little scared. It keeps us sharp.
She was uncharacteristically silenced. She blinked once and said what a beautiful compliment that was. I countered with its truth. What she said then surprised me a little. She said not all people like her, which might be true given the very strong and French manner she has of conducting herself at meetings. (I love the way she speaks. So declaratively without hesitation. But that’s me.)
In all honesty I can’t remember how I responded to her, but I have thought about it since. I think the currency of an effective leader is not friendship. On the contrary, friendship can actually hinder a leader from doing her job. Professional friendships can present an opportunity for a raised eyebrow outside the relationship. I don’t mean to say friendships are not healthy in business. Some close friendships have been born from close working situations (even the occasional affair, which has its own set of feature-benefits and pitfalls). I only mean to say that friendship is not the means by which leaders lead. As I looked at this young woman, I searched for the reason I think she will lead effectively. I have a respect for both her skills and for her direct, results-producing communication. The truth? When I first met her, she frightened me a bit. Her directness threatened me, mostly because I am usually the one doing the offending with my freelance-trained personal branding confidence. (Yes. I can be a dick in a meeting.) So it dawned on me that the most effective leaders I have known barter in respect. I had respect for their personal and professional skills. And they showed respect for my effort and ability. It’s a very pragmatic thing to trade in when you are running a business. Someone you respect can get shit done. And you’ll work harder for someone you respect. It’s not mood-based.
I told my friend that she had a charisma and that’s why people were drawn to her. While that’s true (at least in my opinion), what I think she will really need is the dual ability to draw people to her and cultivate a mutual respect. Developing mutual respect among peers is a learnable skill, an overlooked yet totally renewable resource in business. I learned it from my managers, but not by instruction. By example.
