Luca reached her arms towards me like she does each night. She’s our oldest child but the only one who will not go down unless mom and dad tuck her into bed each evening.

Just a few feet below Luca on the bottom bunk was Anna. She doesn’t have the same bedtime demands. In fact, I wouldn’t have known she was there had I not kneeled down next to her.

I noticed her body faced the wall. Arms at her side. Not a “goodnight” to be heard.

Was she still awake? Was she so tired she jumped in bed on her own? Did she want to be left alone?

Kim sat on the hallway floor reading a book aloud. That way both the girls and Lincoln could hear the story. I decided to lay down next to Anna.

I put my head on the same pillow. Although we had little light, it only took a few seconds of looking into her eyes that I could tell something was wrong.

Could it have been the time at church today when I asked her to sit at the end of the bench? Was it the time Lincoln and Luca yelled at her because she wasn’t able to save them in a game of Super Mario Brothers? Did she feel left out of the conversation on tonight’s drive around town?

I don’t know the reason. But my instincts tell me something is not right with my daughter.

I couldn’t think of what say. I’ve learned that it’s best to keep quiet during these times instead of forcing meaningless small talk.

I brushed the hair out of Anna’s eyes and tickled her back. Still no reaction. At least she knows I’m here, I told myself.

As I was about to kiss her goodnight, Lincoln yelled out, “I have a wedgie!” to which mom replied, “Well, I’m not getting it out”.

Anna giggled for a bit before returning her head to the same spot on the pillow.

Yes, at least she knows I’m here.

Luca invited me to spend the afternoon with her class on a field trip to the White River Valley Museum this afternoon.

The two 3rd grade classes broke up into four groups, and we made our way around the exhibits with the help of volunteers. We listened to many stories about the Native American tribe that lives in our area: The Muckleshoot Tribe.

Our volunteer explained to the children how the tribe used cedar in nearly everything they created. Not only is cedar strong but it’s waterproof. I didn’t realize they often wore clothing made of cedar like this women who is searching for clams.

We watched a short film of a father and son removing strips of cedar from a very large tree. The father mentioned how he wanted to pass on this tribal tradition to his son while he was still alive. The son carefully followed his father’s instructions. Their mutual respect was apparent.

The filmmaker cut to the father who explain he had other children, but had taken the time to only show this son how to harvest cedar in this manner.

And then he said something that’s stuck with me all day.

I do not plan to teach each of my children all the traditions of the tribe. I will teach one or two traditions to each. If I taught all of them everything, they would not learn to rely on each other. When I’m gone, I want them to bond and work together.

At first this sounded strange. But I like it the more I think about it.

I tend to teach my kids the same skills. Sure, one may gravitate towards music while another spends more time playing soccer. But we tend to raise generalists who are self-sufficient. We expect our children to eventually go their own way. The idea of relying on a sibling for a basic need does not fit into our culture.

I’ve wondered how this might translate into teams at work. I’ve worked in groups where everyone has similar skills and others where each person possessed a specialized set of skills. The group I currently manage trends towards the former.

Even though it may go against the grain, I believe this wise father is on to something.

I didn’t know that Seth Godin had released a new book called “Linchpin: Are You Indispensible?” until I read his blog this morning. I found it on Amazon but am going to wait until it comes to iTunes as an audiobook.

While browsing the Huffington Post tonight I came across an article Godin wrote called “Is Control the Answer”.  A few passages struck a chord:

I don’t think it’s an accident that corporations and governments have similar structures.

CEOs are a lot like kings and presidents. They’ve got power and perks and deniability. They order people around, pretend to be infallible and are apparently hired to think big thoughts…

But in business, we’re seeing a divergence. Quite suddenly, markets and systems are changing so fast that top down control isn’t the asset it used to be.

…if your business deals in ideas, control will stifle them. If your organization deals with the public, control will inevitably alienate your best customers.

Power in a world without control doesn’t happen just because you’re elected or appointed or have a great title. Now, power comes from connection and leadership and respect. The way you treat people (all of them, even those without apparent authority) comes back to you again and again, which means that our new leaders embrace dignity and respect instead of the traditional trappings of top down organizations.

I especially enjoyed the part about how leadership is gained through respect and how you treat people. Not just in good times but bad.

It’s human nature to route around those who attempt to control our freedom.

I’ve experienced this with my children. The minute I block off an area of the house, my two-year old sets off on a quest to gain access to that area.

As a teen, I had little interest in drinking Coke until my parents banned it from the house. Once I knew they didn’t approve, I bought one every day.

And when the IT head at a company I used to work for banned instant messaging, the tech savvy showed everyone (including marketing and sales) how to use Meebo.

Next time you exert control over someone, it may be useful to consider what reaction you’ve encouraged. Because the reaction might cause more damage than had you left control with the individual.

I need to remember this advice when dealing with those I manage and those I’m responsible for at home.

Which of the four brushes do I use?

Do I put water on the brush or leave it dry?

Do I use gel or hairspray?

These are the questions I ask myself as I run a comb through my daughter’s hair this morning.

We are supposed to meet Kim at church in fifteen minutes, and it takes me ten to catch Kai racing around the house.

When I say, “We are going to make it on time!” all I hear is laughter coming from the living room.

Yet, I don’t want to rush it.

Few parents will mention these moments to those considering starting a family. They will gush about watching their son hit for the cycle or their daughter’s perfect technique at the dance recital. No doubt, these are memorable accomplishments that make both child and parent proud.

But raising four children has taught me to appreciate the more mundane moments. Maybe it’s a survival technique.

I’m careful to grab hold of Anna’s hair as I comb through a few snarls. “Are you making me pretty, Dad?”, she asks.

I finished combing her bangs before lifting her up by the waist so she could see herself in the mirror.

She flipped her hair and smiled.

And answered her own question.

I hadn’t removed my jacket or set down my briefcase before Anna came bounding down the stairs. While nearly standing on my shoes, she pleaded with me to come see something she created.

“Let me get settled first,” I said.

I got settled just in time for Luca to call everyone upstairs for dinner. While we ate, Anna reminded me again she had something to show me.

“After I finish eating.”

I wasn’t trying to avoid Anna although I’m sure that’s how she felt because after dinner I ended up in the living room playing with Kai while Luca and Lincoln hit me over the head with a pillow.

“Dad, can I show you something now?”

“Just a minute.”

But a minute never came because there was laundry to fold, a dishes to clean and a two-year old to keep  from using the glue stick as lip balm.

It’s so easy to get distracted. One child needs attention while a dozen other small things get in the way. I tell myself I won’t get sucked down that hole of stuff that doesn’t matter. Yet I do. 

My mom used to say that kids talk when they want to talk. They seldom talk on your terms, and you never know when they will pull up a chair and dive into an honest discussion.

I should have remembered my mom’s words, but I continued to put off Anna under the assumption that, once things settled down, I’d be able to see what she wanted to show me.

The house did eventually settle down. But my mind was off in another direction, and I forgot about Anna’s request. While I sat at the computer this evening, she snuck up behind me with two papers in her hand.

My heart sank.

“Can you staple these papers for me?” she asked.

I noticed one of the papers was an entry to a coloring contest while the other was the artwork she wanted to show me all evening. I tried as best I could to show interest and give her my attention, but it was too late. She came to me to get the papers stapled not to show me the picture she colored.

It was late by the time Luca and Anna crawled into bed. I chatted with Luca before kissing her goodnight. By the time I kneeled down at Anna’s bed she was asleep. I kissed Anna on the forehead knowing I missed an opportunity to connect with her.

I won’t make the same mistake tomorrow.

Two of my favorite blogs are Seth Godin and Signal vs. Noise. They often share ideas that have helped me become a better manager.

Recently each of them covered topics which caught my attention.

Godin says the secret to creativity is curiosity. In regards to hiring he says:

Same thing is true for most of the people we hire. We’d like them to follow instructions, not ask questions, not question the status quo.

Yet, without "why?" there can be no, "here’s how to make it better."

It’s good to have worker bees. Every company needs them. People who show up at 8 and leave at 5 everyday. They do the job they are asked. Yet they are consistent and stable employees who complete tasks.

I once had a coworker who fit this description. She left at 5 pm no matter what was going on in the office. If she had to walk out in the middle of a meeting then so be it. She logged off email at 5pm and didn’t look at her inbox till 8 am the next morning. She also turned off her cell phone. She was vigilant in protecting her time outside of work.

She checked off all the boxes one would look for when hiring a new employee. Yet she possessed little passion for the industry or our products. She didn’t “ask why” because that answer was of no interest to her.  The job was a paycheck. Nothing more.

The flip side is the employee who challenges, asks why, and looks for ways to improve the company. In my experience, this is the more difficult employee to manage. But when done properly, the benefits outweigh the occasional hassle. This employee challenges the status quo. He’s full of ideas and isn’t bashful about sharing them. He wakes up 3 am with an idea and shoots off an email because he can’t wait until the next morning.

Some businesses need both types. But I know which one I’d rather manage. Especially if my business relies on innovation and creativity to grow.

The other post that caught my attention came from Matt at the 37 Signals blog. He writes about how some companies use control. He suggests that tighter controls may have unintended consequences:

But “control” is a tricky thing. The tighter the reins, the more you create an environment of distrust. An us vs. them mentality takes hold. And that’s when people start trying to game the system.

For the most part, the companies I’ve worked for were able to find the right balance. I worked for two small companies that provided no control which doesn’t work well either.

Matt goes on to quote Shunryu Suzuki:

The best way to control people is to encourage them to be mischievous. Then they will be in control in its wider sense. To give your sheep or cow a large, spacious meadow is the way to control him. So it is with people: first let them do what they want, and watch them. This is the best policy. To ignore them is not good; that is the worst policy. The second worst is trying to control them. The best one is to watch them, just to watch them, without trying to control them.

I’m constantly trying to balance control in regards to those I manage. One must have control over some aspects of work. Time reports and expenses come to mind. But work schedule and freedom to figure out the best way to solve problems are two items where relinquishing some control can bring substantial benefits.

Link to Seth Godin

Link to Signal vs. Noise