Monday, May 23, 2022

Dragons - Chapter 88 (DRAFT)

I took the call with Steve Anderson sitting on a bench in the small city park that adjoined our office building. Without intending to, I found a bench with a clear view of the building and the floor that our company squatted on. And during the conversation with Steve, I could not initially keep my eyes off the windows on that floor, especially the corner where I knew Mary’s office to be, and the dark shapes moving around behind them.

“Alan!” Steve’s friendly voice said at the very beginning, sounding more like an old college friend than a potential new boss. “I’m so glad we were able to find time for this discussion.”

“Of course,” I said, wondering if he thought I would have been too busy to take his call. “It’s my pleasure.”

“Although, I’ll confess, if things go the way I’m expecting them to, I suspect you’ll be doing much more of the talking than me.”

I wasn’t sure if that was meant as an ice-breaking jest or a serious challenge. I decided to treat it with the same ambivalence. “That’s no problem. I’m ready to dazzle you.”

“Well, okay! Let me set the stage for you.”

Steve then went on to summarize the history of our discussions and the opportunity that was being laid on the table. He talked briefly about the organization, the leadership position that was available, and a few takeaways from the interview that had been conducted in Boston. Nothing he said was any news to me, and for a moment, I wondered if there was a third party on the line with us, someone for whom such a summary would have been helpful. I listened patiently, my eyes on Mary’s office. It was now a few minutes past one, and Bethany was undoubtedly in there, saying whatever it was that she was going to say.

“So, now here we are,” Steve was saying. “You’ve had some time to reflect on the opportunity and, hopefully, some time to research us and some of the challenges we’re facing. Let’s, for the sake of this discussion, assume that you’ve been hired, and running our organization is now your responsibility. What are some of the things that you’d do in your first week on the job?”

It was my turn to speak. My subconscious mind knew that, but my conscious attention was still on the office tower windows, trying to peer through them and see what was going on.

“Alan? Are you there?”

“Yes,” I said quickly. “Yes, I am, Steve. Sorry, you broke up a little. Can you repeat that question?”

There was a short pause and then Steve did, and while his words fell again against my eardrum I realized that as much as I might think my fate was being determined without me up in Mary’s office, in fact, this conversation with Steve was the more pressing opportunity to take an active hand in my own success or failure.

“So, Alan. What would you do in your first week on the job?”

“I wouldn’t wait for my first week, Steve. As soon as it was official, as soon as you put me in charge I would be on the phone, calling around to all the Board members; yes, to introduce myself to them, but more importantly, to hear from them, to hear privately, one-on-one, what each thought about the current state of the organization -- the good, the bad, and the ugly.”

There was another pause on the line. I let it happen, waiting for Steve to say something, anything, before I dared speak again.

“Very good,” he said. “Go on.”

I stood up, turned my back on the office building, and then did exactly that. “I have a few ideas of my own. Membership, first and foremost, I think. Shoring up a declining membership seems like the very first order of business, but I can’t pretend as an outsider to understand all the dynamics that are causing that. You guys are a lot closer to the problem and, as members themselves, the Board likely has a better understanding of what works and what doesn’t. I will need to gather all that intelligence before my first day if I’m going to have the kind of impact that you’re looking for.”

“Try that,” Steve said.

“What?”

“Try that on me. Now. If you get the job, I’ll be one of the Board members you call, so you can prequalify me now. I’d like to see what kind of questions you’d ask me.”

“Okay,” I said, as I started walking down one of the paved footpaths that snaked around and through the city park. There was a nervous energy inside me that needed an outlet, and the exertion helped me think as I began questioning him, exactly as I thought I would if I had, in fact, been offered the job.

Steve played along in kind, feeding me the information I requested, speaking candidly about the threats and opportunities he saw facing his organization. There were times when I had to pull more details out of him, times when I confidently offered my own thoughts and advice, times when he politely pulled me back on point. It was surprisingly easy, unlike any interview I had ever been a part of. Within minutes any pretense of us being antagonists was gone. I wasn’t trying to trick him and he wasn’t trying to trap me. We were partners, each of us with a needed perspective if we were going to solve the problems we were discussing.

It was fun. And it went on for far longer than I ever would have thought. The quick review I had performed of the organization’s website helped me, but I’m not sure that was even necessary. Steve freely offered any information I needed. It was okay if I didn’t know something about the organization. I knew enough to know what questions to ask. And, more important than that, I knew what to do with the information he provided. Maybe for the first time in my life, I felt like one of the grown-ups in the room. I was a professional. A doctor. Taking a patient’s history, assessing his symptoms, making a diagnosis, and prescribing a course of action.

At one point Steve interrupted the flow. “Alan, this has been a very informative discussion. I regret that I didn’t reserve more time on my schedule.”

I looked at my watch. It was eleven minutes after two.

“I’d be happy to schedule another call if you want to continue the discussion.”

“That won’t be necessary. At least not presently. In all our discussions, I neglected to ask if you had any questions for me.”

I thought for a second. “I don’t think so,” I said. “Other than your timetable for making your decision.”

“I’ll have to report back to the Executive Committee,” he said. “We have a call scheduled for Friday to discuss the remaining candidates for the position. I expect that we will make a decision on that call and start informing people early the following week.”

“Very good,” I said. “Thanks for your time today, Steve.”

“Thank you, Alan. You take care now.”

The line clicked off. I looked around at my surroundings. I was still in the park, but at practically the farthest point I could be from my office building.

+ + +

“Dragons” is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. For more information, go here.

This post first appeared on Eric Lanke's blog, an association executive and author. You can follow him on Twitter @ericlanke or contact him at eric.lanke@gmail.com.

Image Source

http://lres.com/heres-why-amcs-need-to-pay-close-attention-to-looming-regulatory-changes/businessman-in-the-middle-of-a-labyrinth/


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