Most advancement in business can be attributed to the adaptations made in the anticipation of change and the transitions necessary to deliver goods or services. Our ability to identify potential areas of improvement, potential challenges and new direction are what create the discomfort that is change. As leaders, it is our responsibility to identify these potential changes and prepare a plan to transition into the new direction. This can be simple changes to processes in the office or field and as large as replacing the management structure or opening a new facility.
Over 20 years, I have had the opportunity to lead in many different formats of event management. I have experienced ups and downs in my career with far more peaks than valleys, which have helped me to continue throughout the years. I have led and learned from some of the best people in the industry. With a long career, I have travelled quite a bit, being stationed in and out of the Midwest and Rockies, finally landing in Texas. I think of the moments where I made the greatest leaps in understanding and can say with certainty that my most significant development happened when I was least comfortable.
I was in the adolescence of my management career in Indianapolis, IN where I made my first step forward.
The RCA Dome and Indiana Convention Center sat nestled quaintly on the rim of downtown Indianapolis. Maryland Street and Capitol Avenue intersected on the northeast corner of the Convention Center, with West Street traveling northbound past the tarmac and docks of the Convention Center. At the VIP entrance on the south side of the building, Senate Street disappeared under a set of train tracks that hovered above the stairs like the sword of Damocles.
I had walked this perimeter countless times as I prepared for and operated events at these facilities. The heat was never stifling in the summer, but the humidity was thick and unbearable at times. When the winter came, the humidity crushed my spirit and my breath seemed to freeze before it left my mouth. I had worked an entire year at these facilities starting in January and was now closing out football season in late December. I was anxious in the preparation this week as we were getting a new manager.
I had worked closely with the previous manager, learning to implement his plan and create structure for our success. The days and the nights seemed to melt together, not really knowing when one ended and the other begun, but we were building something. I knew that what we were building would turn into something special and my belief allowed me to push through some pretty rough times. Effort and Attitude: I lived by the idea that if I had these, I could accomplish anything. I was learning as we went, but was finally starting to grasp the direction of our office.
I was still unaware of how big the change would be, but my anxiety was high as I prepared for the arrival of our new manager. Our previous manager had to leave early before the season ended, thrusting me into a leadership role that I was not prepared. I was young and ambitious — like every millennial I have interviewed since — and believed that I was the only one capable of making the branch successful. I was certain that the new manager would see the genius of my skills and immediately resign, leaving the operation to me. In hindsight, the best decision for the company and my career was for me to learn how to be an effective manager as I was not ready.
I had met the manager previously at our corporate meetings and we had shared a few jokes at each other’s expense over beers and a UCLA basketball game. At the time, we had joked we were managers meeting in an open forum, not linked outside the logo we wore on our chest. This was different; he was now coming in to lead an office where I had been making all of the decisions. The challenge was getting past my own ego. Humility was something I had to learn and it would be a subset of our relationship for years.
I was printing deployments when Lance Massey walked through the doors of the office and immediately greeted everyone with a professional handshake. He had a firm handshake with soft hands. He was an extremely charismatic guy, tall with an athletic build. He was smooth and confident like he was walking to the plate with his bat in hand and bad intentions for the next pitch. I looked at his hand and then up to his face and said, “you have soft hands.” Like a whistle to a puppy, his head cocked at an angle and questioned me with his eyes. He didn’t say a word; just let out half a sigh turned around and walked out of my office. I don’t know why I said it, but it did make me laugh to myself to avoid the embarrassment of my misstep.
He met with our client and senior leadership taking a walk around the property and discussing the shortcomings of our first year. My effort slowed in the moment as I sat in my office and pondered what those might be. How could anyone evaluate our operation without seeing it firsthand? I did not believe that we were providing a substandard product. The effort and time that I had put in at this point had blinded me to the possibility that we could do better.
Lance is one of the most influential leaders in my career and the best manager I have met in developing structure. We were a hardworking office and had been operating in our own disfunction as we navigated to find our structure. As with most offices, we put in a ton of effort, but did not see that the method could be simplified. Lance was one of those guys that could evaluate simple or complex processes and add suggestion that made a significant impact in efficiency. He had a knack for it. He would listen to our suggestions, implement pieces so we felt we contributed but always leveled where his vision began. We quickly became a team implementing his vision.
No matter how embarrassing the attempt, he enjoyed being relatable. He always had some obscure country or classic rock artist playing on the radio and knew the words to almost every song on his playlist. It was impossible to get passed the ‘Mexican Whistler’ without the decibels reaching painful levels and his failed attempt to match the whistle skill of the radio. Led Zeppelin and Journey were a guarantee that he would struggle to hit the high notes of every song. He danced with the grace of a baby giraffe learning to walk. We all knew it was coming and our Pavlovian response was to gather and wait for him to step on stage as memorable tunes played their first notes. As our leader, he was open and authentic which made it that much more difficult when we let him down. We were connected with him more than through his delegation.
We worked hard in crowd management, most days going for well over 12 hours. We moved bike rack, turnstiles and boxes of employee equipment. When the staff were working hard, we stood shoulder-to-shoulder with them and shared the fatigue. He led from the front and took the hardest role often standing at the gates for the search. When the event was over, we shook hands, high-fived and thanked our employees for providing us with their service. There was plenty of opportunity to rely on the leadership role in the office and go home early. He made it a point to close out of the event as a team, staying until the logistics were cleared and the last person was signed out. We all walked out of the venue to the parking lot together.
He would complete an invoice hit print and walk into the main office to discuss where everyone was in their daily operation. He asked numbers from our scheduler and gave them suggestions of whom to call and where to move schedules if it was necessary. He would then speak to our 24hr manager and ask how trainings were going as they happened so regularly that only the two of them knew the schedule. He met our event managers individually in his office and would get a hands-on training where they needed instruction. I don’t recall ever seeing him micromanage our office, but he always had his finger on the pulse.
Lance is a man of high character and spent a large portion of his time discussing the goals and expectations of his team. The things we made better came directly from these interactions. He listened with the intent of delivering a solution to the request even when the subject matter was an external variable of family or a personal nature.
He communicated his vision well for us as we were evolving into his team. He was quick to acknowledge that there were things we did well and there were things we did not. His mindset was to strengthen the things we did well and restructure the areas we needed to fix. Our goal was to get better over time. “This is a marathon, not a sprint” he would say, as our anxiety would get the better of us. As we fell behind, he stepped in with support of information or operation and he cheered in our success.
As the manager, he understood that he was the one person who was accountable for the success and failures of our office. The rest of us were responsible for accomplishing our tasks and he was ultimately accountable for the results. This is the cycle that both the manager and employee have in the connection of service delivery.
The days fade away into my memory, but I still reminisce on the days spent in Indianapolis. The weatherman reminds me of every cold front that pushes across the Midwest and my mind is quickly taken back to the late-night walks to my truck from the office. The chill of the winds and bitter sting of sleet that gathered speed as it descended from the heavens. A Monster Truck starts its engine and the smell of racing fuel takes me back in time when I was checking the revolving doors of the RCA Dome as the last inflatable roof that pressurized the facility. I can still hear the parents jockeying for position on the south side of the stadium for marching band competitions. Each of these a stone in the foundation of whom I have become but none so profound as the people that I worked with and learned from.
I cross reference my prior experiences to how I operate in my future positions. Weather is relative to location, but effort is a true constant. I had the opportunity to participate in many transitions in my career. Some of these changes were large where I opened new offices, others where we were changing processes within existing offices or changing the management structure. I emulate the lessons learned in the office transition in Indianapolis as a model for my future success.
Our evolution occurs through change and development over time. Great leaders know when to challenge their team and how to create an environment for the empowerment of those that report to them.
The lessons I learned in Indianapolis were impactful:
- Be humble. Nobody knows it all and you can learn something from everyone when you are open. Humility is an investment in self-awareness.
- Be relatable. As a leader, you can create an environment where you are respected even when allowing people to see your silly side. A manager that is relatable is approachable.
- Be available. We often take for granted the power of our own example. Great leaders stand at the front line and deliver the message that our purpose overshadows our tasks.
- Be attentive. When we are the decision maker, our responsibility should always be focused on the team that is accomplishing the goals. Our teams, no matter how strong, take pride in their work when we value the effort enough to discuss the direction and the expected outcome.
- Listen. Our teams communicate with more than just verbal content in the context of our daily operation. We operate with a strong values structure and open ourselves to our employees that creates an emotional connection. When we act on those conversations, we become reliable in our delivery of services to our employees.
- Communicate. Delivering a clear vision of who we are to our employees is as important as the expectations we have of them.
- Be accountable. Creating the structure where team members are connected with leadership in deliverables. Team members understand that their responsibility to their effort is tied to the leader to whom is answerable for their successes and failures.
As we develop our strategies for transitioning, I can always look back to the time where I experienced an advanced tutorial in transitioning and office adaptation to the changes that made us successful. Complacency is born in comfort and change is its inevitable combatant. We go to war every day in the fight against the status quo in the quest for perpetual improvement. The anticipation of change is where we develop our strategy for transition in the face of inevitability.