Confidence | PeopleSense Consulting

Why a dog matters to your leadership style

On January 3, 2012 / Graceful Leadership, Managing / 10 Comments

This picture was taken just days after I got Grace. She wore a harness because she had escaped from a collar while at her foster home and had remained outdoors for a few weeks, not allowing anyone to catch her. I wanted to make sure she became familiar with her new surroundings so that she would know this was her home before allowing her off-leash, a process that took many months.

I’m in the midst of redesigning my website. One of the primary goals is to integrate this blog so it has the same look and feel as the website. Which means I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about how to articulate why this dog-inspired blog should beintegrated to my consulting practice. One might wonder how they are related at all!

I’ve had dogs most of my life, but when I found Grace in 2005, something was different. There was almost an immediate – and ongoing – connection between my experiences with her and my work. It was kinda strange, but also very intriguing. At the time, I wrote a few articles for my monthly newsletter, but I never published those stories. Time passed but the feeling I had about this connection didn’t.

Fast forward to February 2011 when a marketing consultant and I were having a conversation. After I told her that I just kept thinking of all the parallels, she encouraged me to write about Grace. So I did. (Thank you, Annie.) When I sit down to write these posts, the inspiration comes so easily. I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about what I’m going to say before I start; somehow the ideas find their way effortlessly from my fingers to the keyboard.

The person helping me with the website redesign suggested I come up with a list of 20 reasons why the connection between dogs and leadership were important to me. That list quickly outnumbered 20! But the list was wordy and not very clever. I felt stuck (and still do) with coming up with a catchy, meaningful phrase. (I welcome any suggestions!)

This was taken the other night, a peaceful Grace with her favorite squirrel toy close by in her comfy bed. The best managers mentor employees, placing a priority and focus on professional development. I

Mostly, I feel that all things are connected in our lives. The way we approach a problem with our dog is going to be the same as the way we approach a situation as a manager. (I can see some of you shaking your head in disagreement about that one. That deserves its own post where I can share lots of examples.)

We learn best from real-life experiences and will have a greater appreciation for those things that are familiar and dear to us. I’ve had people tell me that even though they don’t currently have a dog, they understand the connections I’m making with situations in the workplace.

I also believe that our learning doesn’t happen in isolation. We don’t have to attend a seminar on leadership to learn about leadership. We can witness situations with other people – or dogs – and gain valuable knowledge and skills.

One obvious example is how Grace’s fearful nature impacts her interactions with others, especially small children. She will either cower or strike, depending on the severity of the situation where she feels backed into a corner. And that is no different in a workplace. When an employee feels threatened, likely in more subtle ways from something that may appear completely benign, such as receiving constructive feedback about their performance, they may shut down or act out. Understanding where they are coming from will help navigate the best outcomes.

Watching this video makes me laugh at how simple it seems on the surface — what dog wouldn’t follow your hand for a treat? But often we forget that the simplest things must be mastered before we can learn more challenging tasks. This easy exercise was recommended by our agility instructor to get Grace familiar with moving in different directions. If managers skip the foundation, nothing worthwhile can be built.

JavaScript required to play Training requires building a foundation of things that seem ridiculously easy..

I’ve always loved facilitating strong and constructive relationships in the workplace, whether as a manager or a team member. I’ve made mistakes and had some grand accomplishments.

Yesterday I made three dozen whitefish, oat, and vegetable muffins for Grace, as part of my new attempt to feed her healthy (and homemade) food, something I never imagined doing before learning more about a dog's nutritional needs. This is particularly significant since I don

And with Grace, the same is true. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve also had some big successes in her development. It’s been a rewarding journey that has a long way to go.

My hope is that as I share these events, we can benefit and learn together. As we enter this new year, I look forward to discovering new experiences with Grace — and with all of you. Your perspective, feedback, ideas, information, and support that you offer is so helpful, not just to me, but to others. Combining shared wisdom is much more powerful (and fun)!

That’s a model I’d like to set for workplace environments, too.

Recognition makes you feel good, among other things

On December 9, 2011 / Communicating, Graceful Leadership / 11 Comments

We all know how good it feels when we receive recognition.

It not only puts a smile on our face but it has other significant benefits, too. It motivates us to do more of what gave us the positive reinforcement and therefore increases our confidence. These are important aspects for productivity and happiness.

The recognition can be as simple as two words: thank you. Or it can come in more structured ways, such as an award. That happened to me earlier this week, when fellow blogger, Laurie Bartolo, nominated me for the Leibster Blog Award.

Laurie and I recently found each other and I’ve been quickly impressed with the variety of Laurie’s skills, including her photography, human resources background, and her compassion for helping dogs in need. On her blog, she uses her photography skills to educate others about particular situations, but she takes it a step further and actually does something about it. This post is a great example. I feel really fortunate to have connected with Laurie and very much appreciate her recognizing “Graceful Leadership” for the Leibster award.

Nose-to-nose with a snapping turtle? What would you do?

On August 24, 2011 / Communicating, Graceful Leadership / 4 Comments

She's on to something!

I’ve never seen a baby snapping turtle before this past weekend. But I can thank Grace for the experience.

My husband and I were enjoying a quiet afternoon by the small river that runs behind our property (some people call it a creek, I refer to it as a river as it technically is, but even I will admit it’s not the Mississippi); Grace was meandering around as she often does looking for frogs at the water’s edge or sometimes checking out the side yard where the groundhog frequents. I looked behind me to check on her and watched her as she circled something I couldn’t see.

It's amazing how something so small can be so scary.

She wasn’t barking but she was definitely fixated on something. I figured it was a small garter snake. But she kept circling versus following something moving in a line. I have a bit of phobia about snakes but I was dying to find out what she was watching. I didn’t really want to see a snake. So I said to my husband: “Aren’t you interested to see what she’s after?”

He, being the kind-hearted soul that he is, realized I wanted to know what it was, got up and approached Grace. “It’s a turtle,” he said.

“WHAT??” I said.

“A turtle.”

Despite her macho posture, if that baby moved, she would have been outta there.

O.K. That got my attention. With both us now standing around her prize, Grace got more excited and started barking with a piercing yelp. When I saw the tiny size of the turtle, I figured it must be very frightened to have two looming humans and a loud, bouncing dog glaring at him. I told Grace that she’s scaring the baby, but she didn’t seem to care because she continued her barking.

A little more confident with reinforcements nearby

We watched for a few minutes. I was amazed that this miniature turtle was in our backyard. “Where is his mother? Aren’t they BIG?” I asked. Pete laughed.

I'll help get him out of here.

When Pete went to pick this little guy up (of course I have no idea if this was a male or female turtle), he clung to the grass blades. Isn’t it funny how we all hang on to something that is familiar even though letting go may be the best thing for us?

We walked to the river and Pete gently placed him on a rock at the river’s edge and with a blink of the eye, he had dashed into his comfortable home in the water.

As employees and managers, we often cling to the familiar, even if it’s not to our advantage. I certainly can’t fault an adorable young hatchling for hanging on the grassy blades as a defense mechanism.

But it was symbolic for how all of us cling to where we are. Grace, so fearful of ANYTHING new, worries at the thought of any change. Many of us find ways to stay with a common routine or resist the opportunity to try a new approach, or even refuse to have an open mind to a different viewpoint about something in our lives. Others may embrace change, but do you find ways to effectively bring along your colleagues who need more time to adjust?

I barely had time to get the camera out; this is the last second we saw the baby turtle before he fled to a familiar place.

According to Wikipedia, snapping turtles have “fierce” dispositions; however, when encountered in the water, they usually slip quietly away from any disturbance. Don’t we all have a tendency to ‘bark’ when we’re out of our comfort zone?

If we’re on familiar ground, don’t we have more tolerance and ability to maneuver around our “terrain” more comfortably? If we see someone in an uncomfortable spot, maybe we should give them more space (literally and figuratively) to find their way.

Without Grace, we would have never known that tiny turtle was in our yard. And if she hadn’t seen it, who knows if he would have made it back to the water safely. Grace and this little turtle found each other. They were scared of each other, even though she may have saved his life by alerting us to him.

It’s great to find new opportunities and then remember to embrace them.

I think we can all learn from that.

Is this as good as it gets?

On July 8, 2011 / Change, Graceful Leadership / 9 Comments

This isn't even Grace's bed, but you see who "owns" it. She's a bit snippy when she doesn't get her way. Of all her adorable traits, that isn't one of them. Do you know anyone like that?

Next weekend Grace and I will be attending a two-day class together. It’s for dogs that are fearful, aggressive or reactive. Grace can be all of them, in varying degrees. I submitted an application to have her considered as a case study and she was accepted. Since I’ve tried lots of things to improve these challenges, I’m incredibly interested to see what I learn.

But a nagging thought keeps going through my mind as I enter this course: when will we reach the point that Grace just won’t change? Or can’t change? Has she already stretched so much that it’s as good as it gets? Or is she able to continue to get out of her existing mindset of fear? How much influence do I have? Will I have?

It’s noteworthy to point out that Grace has changed A LOT since I’ve had her. One of the biggest improvements is her ability to accept new people, which happens much more quickly and less skeptically than she did in those early days. Yet her fear is palpable at times. And there are a few things she still does that, well, they annoy me. (Sorry Grace.)

I’m sure she’d be happier, too, if we could lessen her fear.

The three things I specifically want to address are her fear of children, her excessive and piercing barking in the house when anything or anyone moves by the window, and her whining while riding in the car. All these things I have been ineffective thus far in changing.

In reading another blog a few weeks ago, the question was posed: “Do personalities ever change?” It’s a question that is often asked in my line of work. On that blog, experts and novices chimed in with all sorts of answers, ranging from yes to no. I don’t have the clinical background or scientific data to validate this, but from what I’ve read and experienced, here’s my opinion. Sure, we can change. But it’s not always likely and it’s certainly not easy. The triggers that create change have to be very dramatic, and even then, it’s usually not lasting. We can learn skills that help us adjust in certain situations, but our core traits don’t move much.

When someone is in a job that isn’t working out, this becomes a very delicate question because it affects a person’s self-esteem and livelihood. How much can the person change to fit the job? How much can the employer invest in that growth and development? How much motivation exists for both parties to work collaboratively on it? I have seen situations where an employer and employee work hard to create success. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. It depends on how much each party is able to bend. I think the critical piece is to ensure that everyone is involved in an ongoing and constructive conversation about it, with mutually understood goals.

So here I am, expecting big(ger) and lasting changes from my dog. I’ve seen pretty remarkable strides in the six years we’ve been together. We’re about to see if more can come.

Missed opportunities for leadership

On July 1, 2011 / Graceful Leadership, Leading / 6 Comments

Grace is shying away from the Pause Table, something she is normally confident in doing, but it was a new environment that intimidated her. I'm asking her to stay and her focus is on someone else as she leaves the area. Great photo taken by Jo-Ann Gerde.

In my last post,I talked about situations where we might step in too aggressively and lead through some event or task when it would have been better to follow. Some people are just natural leaders and they are comfortable taking control of any situation – especially when there is a void and no one else is doing so. Sometimes, like with Grace, the motivation is rooted in insecurity. But even for those confident individuals, it’s good to remember that there are times when it’s beneficial to sit back and let the other person provide the needed leadership.

After a comment made by faithful reader Didi, I got to thinking about the opposite circumstances–those times when we step back from a leadership situation even though we should speak up or take action.

Yesterday afternoon when Grace and I went on our typical walk, she did exactly that. We walk on a road that runs parallel to a small river. There was a mom and two kids fishing and as we approached, Grace got increasingly anxious. The closer we got to them, her body lowered to the ground as if to become invisible, her tail tucked tight under her belly, and she started to pull hard on her leash to get far, far away from the situation. The kids weren’t even paying one single bit of attention to her. If she had been able to get past her fear and approach them confidently, I’m certain they would have welcomed her with a kind voice and pat on her head. A pro-active rather than reactive approach would have had a much less stressful outcome for her! Instead, I picked her up and got her out of the area, calmly but quickly. She continued to look over her shoulder, making sure they weren’t coming after her, body down and scared.

When I think of my own past experiences, I can (unfortunately) think of many times when I let others intimidate me. And the ironic part is that the intimidation was generated by my own perspective, not by anything the other person was doing. It might be an opinion was voiced that is contrary to my own, and for some reason, I felt insecure in speaking up with a different view. Or there are other times when I “go with the flow” of a particular situation, rather than determining a path of action and taking control to effect a particular outcome. It’s easier to sit back, but it’s not always rewarding. Nor does it help the quality of the outcome, especially when you offer expertise or experience that can help the situation.

Typically, each of us defaults to one side or the other. Leading too much or leading too little. Like most things in life, balance is best. The challenge is finding that balance.

Racing to be the lead dog doesn’t always make you a winner

On June 28, 2011 / Graceful Leadership, Managing / 6 Comments

Despite being five years old than Mya, Grace was determined to be the fastest!

Grace loves the woods. On many Sunday mornings we go for a walk with a small group of people in search of mushrooms.She’s always in motion out there and I absolutely love to watch her graceful moves as she navigates around, over, and through a variety of natural obstacles in her way. On rare occasions another dog joins us, but usually she’s the only four-legged mushroomer (not that she’s really helping that effort!).

Grace was at ease leaping over tree limbs but it certainly slowed down Mya.

This past weekend, a 2-year-old rottweiler mix, Mya, came along with her mom, Pat. After the usual sniffing introductions, Grace and Mya became fast friends (pun intended). Once we got on the trail, we let them off-leash and they immediately took off racing. They were evenly matched in speed, and I think Grace was stunned to find another dog could keep up with her. It didn’t take her long to realize that this youngster was going to give her a run for her money. Within minutes, Grace was artfully leaping over limbs and making short, unexpected turns in the path. She had immediately found ways to derail Mya’s speed, yet allow their play to continue—as long as Grace was in the lead!

Even when Mya took a breather in the fresh water puddle, Grace circled nearby so she'd be ready for action at the right time.

This mischievous (and pretty darn shrewd if I say so myself) action amused me but sometimes in human interaction it’s not that adorable. There are times when it’s appropriate to allow the other person to shine. I think that’s especially true for an inexperienced individual, one that is in the process of learning a new skill, for example. Of course, balancing that line is important, because we learn and grow by being stretched. We all know that competition can bring out our best performance.

When working with others, how do you know when you should be the lead dog or when you should follow?

Learning anything complex takes time—don’t shortchange the process

On June 17, 2011 / Graceful Leadership, Training / 7 Comments

As she gets familiar with the weave poles, my job is to guide her through with a treat but I think she's more interested in watching our wonderful photographer friend, Annie Card. Thanks to Annie for all the pictures in today's post!

One of the agility obstacles that Grace and I have not spent a lot of time with is the weave poles. When first learning this particular skill, the poles are “open” to create a channel that the dog walks through. Eventually, the goal is to have poles “closed” or set in a straight line so the dog then weaves around each pole in a zig-zag pattern. The most advanced dog will fly through as fast as they can – speed is required for winning agility dogs.

At a recent class, Grace did really well with these poles—considering how little we’ve worked with them. She readily goes in but she sometimes veers off in the middle or enters after the second pole instead of the first. There is also a standard for how you enter the poles and even I can’t remember if it’s right or left, so I’m fairly confident that Grace doesn’t remember that yet, either. We both have some learning to do.

The thing that amazes me about agility – and I believe it’s true about so many things—is how simple it can look on the surface but how complex it is to truly master it. Agility can provide a fun and non-competitive activity that has benefits of exercise along with mental stimulation. Yet it provides the opportunity for mastery of a complex craft; there is so much to know about the nuances of every move, yours and the dog. I’m starting to realize that it can take years to develop sufficient knowledge and efficient skills that encompass every single movement of your hand, the words you use, and the placement of your body. All of it (and most likely much more) determines the dog’s ability to perform.

Mastering the open weave poles -- staying inside!

In business, it seems we often don’t create this structured learning cycle. Because people have full plates and it is difficult to devote adequate time to training, employees are expected to perform at the highest level, immediately. Some managers provide the environment for risk-taking and mistakes, many do not. On-the-job training is valuable, but should be supported by strong mentoring and knowledgeable resources. If the learning process is rushed, incomplete or random, it can create so many issues, potentially ending in failure or blemishes on a person’s self-esteem.

"Look at me! I'm so GOOD at this!!" (Doesn't she look proud?)

When Grace goes through the weave poles right now, she thinks she’s a champion. She doesn’t even realize that we’ve only just begun. With each opportunity to build her confidence, we move to the next level. In agility, our instructor, Rachel works to make sure that the last experience for each dog on each piece of equipment is a positive one, so that they are excited to return for more. We need to stretch our physical and mental muscles, but we must also rest them, too, for the best learning.

Sometimes you really need to state the obvious—sometimes the obvious just isn’t that obvious Part 2

On May 27, 2011 / Giving Feedback, Graceful Leadership / 6 Comments

At last weekend’s “Show and Go” agility event, there were lots of obvious things going on as I described in Part 1. There were also things that weren’t so obvious to me.

The whole point of this particular event is to expose the team (handler and dog) to a new environment. We were in a new place, outdoors (versus our typical indoor space), with different equipment. But to me, I saw the same types of equipment that Grace was used to: the A-Frame, the tire, the dog plank, tunnels and jumps. Everything Grace loves. Even though I had been warned that she would be distracted, as we waited for our turn, I thought to myself, “Grace is going to love this.” I visualized her getting excited to see the equipment and run in, take control as she has in our classes. Another dog that was in our most recent class, Riley, went ahead of Grace and she flew the course with ease. I was sure that Grace would have a similar experience.

What was I thinking?

Grace made it over the first jump, but I only know that because a good friend had joined us; Brenda is also a good photographer and captured that moment (thank you, Brenda, for all the pictures in this post!). Almost immediately upon our entry into the ring, I felt like everything fell apart and things became a blur to me. She jumped off the dog plank before she made it to the top. She ran around it looking confused, and after a few unsuccessful attempts to get her on the plank, I decided it was best to move on. She reluctantly moved in my direction, but stayed her distance. She was so distracted, anxiously staring around at the new setting and all the people. All I can remember is her tail between her legs, darting aimlessly. So I squatted down to her level and optimistically called her to me. She came. Thank goodness. I hugged her and encouraged her again; she was still nervous and we ran around the course, but I don’t think she hit another piece of equipment.

The judge kindly asked: “This is the first time in the ring?” Knowingly, she had witnessed this before. She said that despite how nervous Grace was, she was “doing exactly what you would want her to be doing at this stage,” which was to keep looking to me for direction.

As I left the ring, I was struck by how different my memory had been of the last 90 seconds. I saw Grace being consumed by all the distractions; I didn’t really see that she was looking at me for direction as the judge had seen. I saw her nervous, timid; I saw Grace as she was when I first got her. I didn’t see a dog doing “exactly what she was supposed to be doing.” Isn’t it amazing how our perceptions and reality can get skewed? I had narrowed my vision to see what I had optimistically expected, hoping that Grace would step in where she left off. When that didn’t happen, I saw the negative aspects of what was going on, and hadn’t realized all the “right” things were indeed occurring. I wondered how many times I’ve done that with humans.

Success!

We went back into the ring about an hour later as scheduled and the progress was palpable. I stayed very close to her, coaxing her with lots of praise and support through my voice and body language. She was definitely nervous, but she had the courage and confidence to go through the course by my side; this time there was no wild darting and running away in a desperate attempt to escape from the scene.

The day had accomplished exactly what it had intended to do. Grace was exposed to a new environment and after only 90 seconds in the ring, she had started to adjust. In a very short amount of time, Grace had already shown signs of being more secure. I don’t know how long it would take for her to feel “at home” there, but she had already made noticeable progress. Given Grace’s background, this was a huge step for her. That should have been obvious to me, but I guess I needed the new environment, too.

Are you ready for your next hurdle?

On May 17, 2011 / Graceful Leadership, Motivating / 10 Comments

She's ready! I always have to start out before Grace as she quickly catches -- and surpasses -- me in speed!

Grace is fast. Very fast. One of my challenges in working with her during agility is to keep up with her! My pictures never quite portrayed that sense of motion and so I asked a professional photographer, Annie Card, to join us in a recent class. I love the way Annie captured our movements; the pictures here today (and you’ll see more in the future) are thanks to Annie’s talents. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

When Grace walks into the room and sees the equipment, she wants to GO. No stopping. No hesitation even if she doesn’t do all the things that are considered “correct” in agility judging. She’s takes charge and leads the way, making her way around, through, and over anything close by her. I adore that. It shows her brave, courageous, curious, and fun-loving traits that are very attractive.

And I respect the same thing when I see it in an organization. You can feel the energy in the space when employees are fully engaged in their work. You can catch the enthusiasm when people are ready to move an idea forward. You know their determination and commitment when they are ready to embrace a challenge. Ready to try something different, even if it means they might make a mistake. Ready to jump over any hurdle.

The things that hold us back are usually our own fear of failure. But as has been widely documented throughout history, we can never achieve success if we haven’t yet failed at something. It’s how we learn and grow.

What are you ready to do today?

For a small dog, she has a big jump. You can see her extension as she reaches beyond her own height.

Even walking requires leadership

On April 26, 2011 / Graceful Leadership, Leading / 2 Comments

Grace is very vocal when she wants something. It’s obvious when it’s mealtime or when she wants to sun herself on the deck. She is very explicit in her requests, using her voice (persistent whining) and body (sits in front of me, scratches her paw on me, jumps around if the first two don’t work) to let me know if I’m not moving fast enough for her. That’s a lesson I could study from watching her; first being clear in what I want and then asking in a manner that allows the other person to be equally clear in my intentions.

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, learning how to best handle Grace’s fearful tendencies has opened up an incredible awareness of my own behaviors. In order to help Grace become more confident, I need to provide strong leadership. That means leading her with a confident, calm, assertive demeanor. I’m almost always calm, sometimes confident, but it’s not always very natural for me to be assertive. I have a strong tendency to “go with the flow” rather than take control and offer her guidance and direction.

For managers, this is a critical skill. We can all appreciate the value in offering clear guidance and direction. Being a leader doesn’t mean you have to be overbearing. You just have to be clear and firm, while being open to other’s input and needs.

Something as simple as walking Grace offers an opportunity for me to practice this almost every day, yet I find it challenging. Common dog-walking etiquette recommended by almost any trainer suggests that the dog should walk beside or behind the human. Think about the symbolic implications of this; the one in front is obviously leading.

When Grace and I walk, she doesn’t tug, but she is definitely in front of me. Yet I find myself being lazy in enforcing best practices on our walks. I dismiss it as unimportant.

It’s not that I’m unaware of it, either. Often I’ll say to myself: “I really should ask her to walk beside me.” But I rationalize that she’s enjoying her walk ahead of me or it’s not a big deal, all placid reasons that I make up as excuses for not taking the extra effort to retrain both of us on a better way of walking together.

It is a constant and ongoing challenge for me to remember to ‘take charge’ in our relationship, especially for those “minor” things that don’t seem to matter too much. How much of a difference would it make if I insist that she walk beside me? Probably a lot.

Because I want to pay attention to lessons I’m noticing, I commit to all of you that on my next walk with Grace, I’m going to have her walk beside me. Wish me luck. I’ll let you know how it goes.

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