Put away the shoe polish: Strengthen a learning culture by embracing vulnerability
Photo Credit: S. Shah / Catie Glatz
It was the summer of 1978. I was 7 years old and desperately wanted a model rocket. You know, the kind with names like the Sky Raider or the Photon Disruptor where you put an engine into the bottom, light the fuse with a match, and then eagerly wait in anticipation as the slow burn makes its way to the engine. Suddenly, the propellant in the engine ignites, and the rocket begins liftoff, shooting skyward. I spent months begging my parents to buy me a model rocket. They were skeptical of its safety, and worried about the potential for injury. My father, a physician, would constantly tell stories meant to warn me about the menace of all-terrain vehicles, trampolines, whole grapes, and, well, fire. Summer vacation had started, and to celebrate the end of the school year my parents surprised me with a model rocket kit, complete with the latest in launch technology, an automatic launcher that obviated the need for matches to light the fuse.
The launcher was the most innovative technology that I had ever seen with the possible exception of the home VHS player, which had been invented only a few years earlier. Instead of using a match to light the fuse, you pushed a button on a remote control to electrically ignite the engine. The electric ignition was billed as being safer and more reliable than a fuse. And, because it eliminated the need for matches, there was no risk of severe burns.
After spending hours assembling the rocket, I ran out to our backyard, excitedly anticipating the moment where I would watch its glorious ascent. I pressed the ignition switch, started my countdown “10-9-8-7-6…” and looked skyward. Blast off?!? No. Nothing. I pressed the ignition switch again. And again, nothing. I was puzzled as I checked the rocket and launcher. I couldn't figure out what went wrong so I took the fully assembled rocket resting on the launch pad inside and placed it on my bedroom floor. I then carefully reinserted the metal safety key. In retrospect, I realize that this action connected metal to metal, thus completing the electrical circuit. I had egregiously misunderstood how the safety key worked. Insertion of the metal key, rather than preventing ignition, activated the launch mechanism to generate a spark that lit the engine. My ears crackled as I heard a dull roar and then watched in stunned disbelief as the engine ignited. Smoke poured from the rocket as it lifted off, hit the ceiling and careened off the bedroom walls, leaving huge black soot marks in its wake. The rocket eventually landed on my bed which promptly caught on fire. I stood petrified as my room filled with smoke. Black burn marks covered the walls and ceiling, and my bed was engulfed in flames.
I regained my senses and sprang into action, knowing that if my parents discovered this incident I would probably be grounded for life. I doused the fire with a bucket of water. I opened the window, placing a large box fan in front. This action sent smoke swirling around the room, creating a tornado-like effect. I shoved my half-charred blanket into the garbage pail hoping that it would go unnoticed by my mother when she emptied the trash. I was standing on a chair applying white shoe polish to cover the black marks on the ceiling when my father walked into the room.
After looking around to survey the damage, he took a breath so deep that I could see his body shake. I braced myself for what I thought was inevitable. Instead, he burst out laughing and asked “What happened?” To my great relief, and shock, I wasn't grounded, or even punished.
Two decades later, I asked my father about this incident. His first thought was that things could have been so much worse. He was relieved that I wasn't injured and that the house hadn't burned down. After considering these alternate possibilities, he felt grateful. He also realized that punishing me would only have validated my instinct to cover up the damage.
We all have events in our lives that carry a long-lasting impact. My rocket misadventure stuck with me not just for its absurdity but also because of how it influenced my style of leadership. My father realized that punishing me in that instance could set a precedent for how I might approach such things in the future. His curiosity in that moment provided me an opportunity to be vulnerable, to explain what had transpired while acknowledging my role in it. I reflect on this incident often as I address challenging situations in the healthcare environment.
It's quite difficult to embrace vulnerability. Oftentimes, it's easier to bring out the shoe polish to cover, or attempt to cover, the soot marks. Vulnerability, however, is a sign of courage. Vulnerability is essential to building trust and creating intimacy. It allows team members to feel more comfortable being open and honest about their concerns and mistakes and discussing the challenges they've encountered. Teams that display vulnerability perform better. I recognize that as a leader my response to any difficult situation sets the tone and establishes the culture in my institution. My ability to promote vulnerability ultimately influences how others respond in similar circumstances and the extent to which those involved might be willing to share what went wrong so that we can identify underlying causes, catalyze learning, and implement solutions. Leaders can and should be intentional about fostering vulnerability, but how?
Rather than focusing on discrete actions, such as apologizing for mistakes, or aspirational qualities, such as being “authentic,” I recommend applying the following three strategies:
Emphasize learning, not perfection: When we use failures as learning moments, moments in which to cultivate vulnerability, our employees feel respected, trusted, and valued. They are more likely to be engaged and hold themselves accountable to the organization's mission and goals. Continuous learning becomes a culture.
Use “Yes, and” thinking: This approach is derived from improvisational comedy, whereby an improviser immediately accepts what another has stated as reality (and confirms that by saying “Yes”) and then expands on that idea without limitations (by adding the “and”). This approach promotes collaboration and encourages sharing of new ideas without fear of judgment; the resulting trust that develops among team members reduces barriers to innovation.
Take personal accountability: This means taking ownership of what happens as a result of your decisions or actions. There is no room for “Yes, but…” or other such phrases that are intended to deflect blame. Being accountable is being vulnerable.
Leaders have an opportunity to both demonstrate and cultivate vulnerability among teams and employees. We can start by putting away the shoe polish (and fan).