The importance of being... Specific.

Gavin is two. This is something I need to remind myself of frequently.


Garrett and I were commenting the other day how, when Gavin seems to be growing into a little boy so fast, it's easy to forget how he is, in many ways, still a baby. A two year old's world is not defined by logic. It is so easy for me to ask him "WHY? Why did you some random act of Gavin mayhem? But to Gavin, there is no why. I feel like Yoda:


"Why? There is no why. Do or do not. There is no why."

But, truly. There is no why sometimes. He just did it. To see what would happen. The abstractions of motive are absent to him, although sometimes we can see the motives from without and address them. Frequently, Gavin's most irrational actions can be solved with extra one on one time with mom, or a snack, or a chase through the house to burn off energy.


But I digress.


When I was working, one of the more frustrating things to me was how abstract end results failed to motivate precise and accurate actions from subordinates. I eventually realized that while I, and my section leaders, were working toward and looking for those more abstract results, those who carried out the real work were looking for specific instructions. For reasons as varied as ennui, undeveloped leadership, or poor communication of our actual goals, folks like to be told EXACTLY what to do. This also lowers the chance that a corner can be cut and the legitimate excuse of ignorance selectively enacted.

Gavin is the same way. He's not looking out for the end goal. He needs specificity. "Pick up your toys" doesn't work. "I need you to put your cars in the box so we can..." does.


He's two. He sees what is in front of him. He sees what he is focused on. My job is to direct that sight, and help him learn to think two steps ahead instead of one. It's hard, but right now, this is the formation of a moral conscience (My actions can cause harm) and leadership (My actions can serve a greater purpose and goal).


But, remember, he's only two :)

Providing Context

Gavin is an avid reader. Which is, to say, that he is extremely good at memorizing books. It's uncanny how he can have a book read to him, and the next day you'll see him reciting it to himself.

One of our favorites, although a little out of favor lately, is "The Caboose Who Got Loose" by Bill Peet.

It's a great read, for those of you who are unfamiliar. In it, Katy Caboose wishes that she can be one of the houses in a small country town, "who sat in a row, on a tree-shaded street with no place to go".

So, naturally, when we went to the park last week, Gavin attributes this scene to the end of a trail connecting the park to a neighborhood. He walked to the end of the trail, threw up his hands and declared, "Small country town with no place to go, no place to go...".

And aside from being ADORABLE, it also reminded me that what I'm filling his brain with aren't just words. In this wonderful time that is toddlerhood, where fantasy and reality coexist, I am providing him context by which to interpret his world. This is why, thanks to "Thomas and Friends", all his trains are constanting have terrible crashes. Luckily, no one is hurt. Ever.

I'm glad that we're all so obsessed with books. The magic Gavin is creating in his mind will serve him the rest of his life, and the delight in those eyes when his dreams are real is beautiful.

Building Consensus and the Importance of Specificity

While I was working, I was very often called upon to coopt ideas from higher leadership and implement them with the folks I happened to be supervising at the time. These were not always good ideas. Sometimes they were silly or time wasting tasks.

The hardest part of this role was building consensus that <insert silliness here> was a good idea, and something to be done cheerfully. Isn't that what 99% of leadership is? Not coming up with ideas, but implementing them. The classic example is Tom Sawyer selling whitewashing the fence. I thought it was a hard task with adults, but building consensus in toddlers is a whole new challenge.

I have to convince the Gavinator that, not only does he WANT to <insert getting to a destination within a given time>, but it's going to be fun! Right now, he's not quite to the age where we can weigh the benefits of any given task. What works most effectively is outlining what he has to gain from a venture. If we go on a walk with Mom in the stroller, we can play at the lake, or get out the sprinkler when we return. Snack is a tangible, relatively long term goal that we work toward often :) I am blessed that from a really early age, Gavin understood causual relationships (first, X, then, Y). I also am learning when to let go, to let his developmental readiness dictate. Is it worth fighting over? Can we approach this again later?

It seems strange to equate leadership in the workplace with leading your children, but aren't they similar callings? I have to admit, though, that the stakes seem slightly higher with children :) This is actually something that irritates me about many childrearing viewpoints. The way we sometimes treat children seems to so denegrate their basic humanity and right to respect. The punitive model of childrearing that puts parents in such a dominant position over their children is passe in the workplace. Leadership is needed, certainly. Few are the tech companies whose loose organizational structure has produced anything but implosions. However, we generally try to get our subodinates on board, even with the understanding that someone has the final say. I want my children to grow up knowing that what they have to say matters. It might not change the outcome all the time, but they are worth being listened to, their voices are worth being heard.

The next important thing I learned is that once you have people on board, especially with an initially unpopular idea, specificity is critical to task completion. More on this later, as I now have a wiggling infant in my lap...