Sleeping Giants

by Nathan Mellor

  After taking the courses he felt he needed, we moved back to Indiana, and dad began working with the church where he had volunteered when they had first moved to Vincennes. From the first moment they entered the church building in 1970, he and my mother had felt welcome and accepted. When they returned in 1977, it felt like a homecoming. The church, which began meeting together in August of 1922, was a hardy group. In 1927, the congregation purchased the property at the corner of Ninth and Hart. They constructed a basement in the hope of adding the top floor when they had the resources to do so. Resources would prove difficult in the coming years as the nation struggled its way through the Great Depression and World War II. It was not until 1951 that they were able to complete their facility. They worshiped there for a generation until they built on a new and larger site in 1977. Although I have faint memories of the old building, I have many good memories of the new one. It was opened the week before Christmas, and it felt like it was a gift to the community.3 The church was not immune to the ups and downs of life, but it was a great place to be a kid in the 1970s. It was the type of place that cared deeply for families and kids, especially those from underprivileged backgrounds.

  HEADED SOUTH

  In 1981, the summer before my third-grade year, dad accepted an opportunity to work with a church in Spanish Fort, Alabama, and we moved south from Vincennes, Indiana to the eastern shore of Mobile Bay. The church held a goodbye party, and we loaded up our possessions for the trip. The moving van was white with a blue stripe around the middle of the cab. Painted on each door were the words “Dixie Leasing, Inc.” and the contact information. With dad at the wheel, we made our way south through Kentucky, Tennessee, and finally across the state line of Alabama. We detoured slightly to see the U.S. Space and Rocket Center in Huntsville. Although the tour did not inspire me to pursue a career in aerospace, it did convince me there were few things better in the world than freeze-dried, astronaut ice cream. The next day, we made the final push toward our rental home at 30630 Bay Road on Pineda Island, located just outside of Spanish Fort.

  On occasion, I travel back to Mobile for work. I am always excited to get back to the place where I grew up. Whenever possible, I add a few hours to my trip to have the time to travel across the Causeway. I roll the windows of my rental car down and breathe in the air. The smell of Mobile Bay always makes me feel like I am home.

  DEFINING MOMENTS

  After living in the cinder block rental house for a few months, we then moved six miles south to nearby Daphne. In the early 1980s, it was a town of fewer than 5,000 people. Considered an excellent place to live for both young families and retirees, it has grown considerably since the time we lived there and is now home to nearly 25,000.

  My parents bought a home at 107 Belrose Avenue. It was a comfortable 1,400-square-foot home that had been built in 1935. The home still had its original hardwood floors and plenty of windows. On the side of the house was an enormous fig tree, and along the back property line, a large kumquat tree. What made the house truly special was its proximity to the beach. From the front porch, it was about 500 feet to a set of stairs that led down a steep incline to the sandy shores of Mobile Bay.

  Our lives are a composite of moments. Some of those moments are more impactful than others because they provide a context for future events. Because of the significance of these moments, we categorize these types of events as “Defining Moments.” One of my defining moments was when I was a student at Daphne Elementary School.

  Daphne Elementary is a red brick school building with a classic and timeless appearance. Built around the same time as our home, the facility faces Main Street. It is a long building with a prominent main entrance that is flanked by white columns. Constructed long before air-conditioning was available, the classrooms were large and the ceilings high. The windows were often left open, and the ceiling fans were left on high to help create a breeze in the hot and humid afternoons.

  I was in the fourth grade when a teacher suggested that I participate in the Optimist Club Oratorical Contest. She never explained why she thought I would be good a candidate, but it was an honor to have been asked and I agreed to give it a try. In the weeks leading up to the speech, I worked hard preparing and memorizing each line of my presentation. Although I lost the contest, it was a formative experience, and the bronze runner-up medallion sits behind a glass bookshelf in my office to this day.

  I am grateful for the teacher who went out of her way to encourage me, as well as the Optimist Club for hosting such an event. For me, the moment was life altering because it changed how I perceived myself and how others perceived me. She was among a group of influencers who would begin shaping my mental model. She saw something in me that I did not yet see in myself. Because I trusted her vision and participated in the speech contest I became, “Nathan Mellor…the speaker.”

  SECOND LAST NAMES

  I was in my late 20s or early 30s when my dad and I were talking about how our perceptions of ourselves and of others impact life. In that conversation, dad said, “You have to be careful with second last names.” I had never heard the phrase “second last names,” before, and I assumed it was a David Mellor original. I asked him what he meant by it, and although we talked about it more, I did not fully grasp the concept at the time.

  One of the things that I love about learning is that you can carry an idea or concept around in your brain for years before it fully matures. My dad’s phrase, “second last names,” had been in my mind for a long time before it crystallized. On the day the concept clicked, I was speaking at a community event that brought together a broad cross-section of people interested in ethical leadership. It was a large gathering with several hundred in attendance.

  On the morning I was to give the speech, I was nervous. To help collect my thoughts, I had gotten up early to rehearse my presentation a few times. When this did not work, I decided to go ahead and drive to the venue. It is often beneficial for me to see the place where I will be speaking and to meet some of the people that will be at the program before the event. I parked my car near the back of the lot and reviewed my notes a few more times until I felt I had done all the preparation I could do. I got out of the car and made my way toward the complex of buildings to what I assumed was the entrance. As I approached, I could see through the glass doors that the place was already buzzing with activity. Once I got inside, I introduced myself to a few people, and they directed me to the individuals leading the event. After a quick greeting and a review of the schedule, they shared they had a logistical problem they were trying to solve, and they wanted to get my thoughts.

  They said that following my presentation they were planning to serve a buffet lunch in an adjoining building. To get everyone through the line in the time allotted, the organizers were looking for ways to streamline the process. They wanted to make sure nothing was happening in the main hall after my speech that would keep people in the room any longer than needed. It was suggested that after speaking, I go directly from the stage to the banquet hall, while the emcee concluded the session. If we did this, I could greet people in the banquet hall, and it would help them stay on schedule. I told them I would be happy to do whatever was needed.

  A few minutes later, one of the coordinators I had just met approached with someone new in tow. She was smiling proudly when she said, “I want you to meet your host.” As I was shaking the hand of the new person, the coordinator said, “She has volunteered to assist you when you are greeting people at lunch. You are going to love her. She has been part of this organization forever. She knows everybody.”

  I got the distinct impression when talking with my newly deputized host that she had been drafted for the job. She was visibly nervous, and it was obvious she was taking one for the team. I have always appreciated people like her, and I thought it said a lot about the organization and her that she was willing to work out of her comfort zone for the sake of the group.

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sp; Following the presentation, as the emcee took the platform, I made my way to the banquet hall. My host was already standing at our assigned spot, and nearly immediately after, the crowd began to form a line. As people filed down the buffet lines, my host, standing directly behind me, said, “When people are coming up, I will tell you who they are.” I nodded in agreement.

  As the first person approached, she leaned forward and said, “This is Timothy Kidwell…he is a local banker.” She paused for a moment and then said, “…and he drinks a lot.” As she finished the sentence, Timothy was reaching out his hand. We shook hands and talked for a few seconds. As he turned to find a place to sit, her words came back to mind. I thought, did she say, “He drinks a lot?”

  There was no time for a follow-up question. I had just turned back to the oncoming group when she leaned forward again and said, “This is John Finch…he sells insurance…” The pause was shorter this time. She continued, “He has been married four times.”

  She was giving me their second last names, and it was not pretty. I hesitated and wondered if I should say something. I then turned back to my well-intentioned host and said, “I appreciate your help, but I do not need to know their second last names.”

  Second last names are powerful because they shape how we perceive others. The impact of second last names is typically determined by the influence of the person sharing the moniker. Compact thumbnail sketches of complex mental models, they can be positive or negative, true or false. They are valuable because they provide insight into both the person being described as well as the person giving the description.

  TRAINED TO SEE THE PROBLEM

  One afternoon, I was talking with a friend of mine that I do not see often, and we were enjoying catching up. Chris and I talked about his family for a few minutes. He then said, “Can I ask you a question about my work?” I replied, “Absolutely. What is on your mind?” He explained that he had opened a retail store a few years earlier, but he was struggling to get traction. He said they had a great selection of products, a visible location, and a good online presence. He concluded, “I think I know why we can’t seem to turn the corner. It is because of customer service. I just don’t know what to do about it.”

  I asked him to describe the situation, and he gave one example after another that proved his point. I was listening in the hope of gaining insight into his mental model about himself and about his team. He was focused on the problem and not on the solution. The problem was clear, but the solution was not. His issue was not just customer service; it appeared he was dealing with something deeper.

  After hearing his initial thoughts, I asked if he had talked with his team about his expectations. A common challenge for leaders is communicating what they want in such a way that others can understand what is needed and take the appropriate action steps. Instead of answering my question, he sidestepped it. I circled back to the question for the second time, and he ducked it again. On my third try, he finally opened up. He explained his relationship with the team was at the breaking point, and he no longer had the patience to deal with them. He did not know what to do next. He then blurted, “I hate my team.”

  Chris is a good man who was in a tough situation. He did not truly hate his employees, or he would have just walked away. If things did not change, however, his feelings would crystalize and would become a reality. His mental model was working against him. He was no longer looking for answers; he was now looking for somewhere to place blame. He had a form of tunnel vision, and he was searching for proof that the way he was seeing the world was accurate. I said, “I don’t think you hate your team.” After talking it through, he backed off. He smiled and with a frustrated laugh said, “The problem is they are idiots.” He had just given me the second last name for his team.

  It is a scary thing when you have invested yourself in something that is not working. It can be terrifying when you cannot simply work harder to make things better. When this is the case, there is often something lurking deeper. In those moments, when a leader needs to see the larger picture, to see the system, it is critical to take a step back. With that said, without some help, it is challenging to see things from a different perspective when leaders are locked-in on problem identification versus problem solving.

  As long as Chris thinks of the people on his team as idiots, they will prove him right. As long as Chris thinks of himself as an idiot, he will prove himself right. He is adopting a second last name that will set the course of his life. If he does not change course, not only will his team underperform, when they have moments when life is going well, they will dismiss the wins as anomalies. He is training himself and his team to see what is wrong. In time, he will only be able to see what is wrong. Unintentionally, he is creating a habit loop of negativity. He can break free but not until he claims personal responsibility for his identity and the identity of his team.

  INTENTIONAL THINKING

  The drift toward negativity is understandable and predictable. Our brains tend to focus on perceived threats, and when we receive negative feedback, it is commonly perceived as a threat. We are constantly scanning for emotional and physical threats, and our brains do not regard positive interactions as threats. Because of this tendency, over the course of a lifetime, we develop a great sensitivity for negativity, as it is part of an elaborate defense system that is intended to promote safety and wellbeing. Constant negativity undermines leadership effectiveness, however, as it robs people of courage versus instilling it within them. If you have ever worked in a climate of stress and fear, you already know that increased anxiety does not translate into better performance.

  I am not suggesting that we only focus on the positive, but I am suggesting that focusing on the positive is more likely to lead to the results you are seeking. We tend to see what we look for in others, and if we are not actively looking for the good, we are unlikely to see it. This is one of the reasons why so many leaders are keenly aware of their faults, but they remain largely unaware of their strengths.

  MY NAME IS MO

  A few years ago, I was invited to speak at a leadership retreat being hosted for a group of approximately 30 senior level leaders from Oklahoma City. The program was being held at the Holland Blue River Ranch, near the small town of Tishomingo in south-central Oklahoma. The 1,750-acre ranch is notable due to its numerous granite outcrops and cliffs and the presence of the Blue River, which meanders through the property for nearly two miles. The Blue River is a 141-mile long tributary of the Red River. A free-flowing stream, it is unencumbered by dams or man-made structures that could limit its flow. Pristine, clear spring water pushes across the property at a rate of approximately 30,000 gallons per minute.4 The river is known for its bass fishing in the summer, and in the colder months, it is host to anglers throughout the region that are in pursuit of rainbow and brown trout.5

  Prior to the start of the program, several people were sitting in rocking chairs on the front porch, while others were standing nearby in the shade. The porch ran the length of the home and provided shade; the weather was pleasant, but warm. There was a welcome breeze drifting across the fields of Bermuda grass.

  The ranch is large, but it is not easy to find. Consequently, when hosting events there, it is not uncommon for people to have to backtrack after taking a wrong turn or two. Because of this, we were not surprised when we got a call from one of the participants that she had made a wrong turn, but would be arriving shortly.

  The final mile or so is a well-maintained dirt road, and a few moments after the phone call, we saw her car coming down the last mile. She was moving fast, and behind her, a cloud of dust rose into the sky. Based upon the speed of the car, the person driving was evidently comfortable on dirt roads. She pulled up to the main house, and the cloud that had been following her drifted over the car, and blanketed it with a coating of fine dust.

  I did not know the driver, but it seemed that nearly everyone else did.
She smiled warmly as people began to greet her. As she walked toward the house, I looked at the car once more. At a distance, I thought it was a Mercedes, but as the car got closer to the house, it seemed a little longer than most Mercedes. As I looked again, the badging gave its identity away. The car was an ultra-rare Maybach, which is the Mercedes luxury brand. I smiled as I thought about the fact that this was likely the only one that had ever been off-roading.

  The group of leaders assembled in the living room for introductions. Seated in chairs around the room, people stood and shared something about themselves. When it came time for the Maybach driver, she stood and said, “My name is Mo.” She paused, smiled, and continued, “I am 79 years old. I turn 80 in three months, and I cannot wait!” She paused again and said, “My 70s have been my best decade, and I cannot imagine what is going to happen in my 80s.”

  Sometimes you meet someone with whom you feel an instant bond. I liked Mo, and I loved her approach to life. I scanned the room and noticed almost everyone was smiling as she spoke. She seemed to have the same impact on people as my parents. People responded to her because of the way she made them feel about themselves. She said, “I am the vice-chair of Keller Williams, where we have 140,000 employees.” Since that time, the number of associates at Keller Williams has grown by tens of thousands, and it continues to increase due to their unique culture.

  I do not think I was the only one inspired by Mo. This woman, who has helped build one of the world’s most exciting companies and was just months away from her 80th birthday, had chosen to invest her time in a program designed to help her become a more effective leader. Whether she knew it or not, she had set the tone for the group with her choice to be enthusiastic and positive.