Reflections on Vulnerability in Leadership
I went to one of our clinics recently and saw a sign on the desk of one of the referral specialists. It read, “I’m only here until I win the lottery.” I asked the staff member if that was true. She laughed, shook her head in an enthusiastically yes, absolutely kind of way, and said, “What about you?”
My answer came from an interesting place. I answered, “No, I would still work if I won the lottery.” She then said, “What if you won the lottery and didn’t have to work as much?” Bingo! I felt like she was reading my mind.
I transitioned from the Chief Medical Officer to the CEO role at my organization a year and a half before the pandemic hit. It wasn’t a role that I necessarily had imagined for myself, but I was motivated by service leadership and self-preservation. Not only did I care deeply about my organization’s mission and impact, but I also worried who might take the position and be my boss. And so, I threw my hat into the ring and was ultimately selected for the job. At first, I found the new role quite lonely. My colleagues soon became my direct reports, and it seemed like I had no peers. The buck stopped with me, and I didn’t have all the answers. And I was all in – I took my work not only home with me but on vacation. I questioned whether I had made the right decision.
And then came COVID-19. Crisis is an interesting experience when it comes to group dynamics. It has the power to bring people together or to push them apart. I saw both happen in my work environment in different ways. There was this tremendous sense that we were in it together. Our work could not have been more important than in the context of the pandemic. And what we were doing was having a measurable impact on the lives of the most underserved in our community.
But there was also a sense by some that they were martyrs for the cause. They had made more sacrifices and done harder work than others. And they resented it. It was certainly possible that they had worked harder. Because everyone was navigating different challenges at home, different members of our team naturally brought distinct levels of engagement to the office. One colleague had school-aged children who were having mental health challenges in the context of distance-learning. Another had a parent in a nursing home with dementia. My colleague’s mother with dementia went from daily visits from her husband to complete isolation. And she deteriorated and then passed away. Is it any wonder that some people had a challenge in bringing their full selves to work when they had so many other critical personal issues going on?
I was managing my own challenges during this time: a daughter in substance use treatment as well as the loss of my home in the California wildfires. I decided to be very transparent not only with my team, but with anyone in the organization who cared to listen, about these challenges. I asked permission from my daughter to share about her substance use disorder with my leadership team. I soon heard from colleagues about their own work in recovery.
I shared my grief about the fire and the loss of my sanctuary. And my colleagues were generous with me in their care and in their listening. They gave me grace. They allowed me to muddle through and dive into work and be in a space where I had some measure of control and purpose. Not just my work persona - the person who has it all under control but all of me including the part of me that felt lost and drifting. It was in the context of this vulnerability and authenticity that I began to feel less lonely at work.
And so, I started to come into my own as a CEO. I credit my embrace of vulnerability as a part of this leadership journey. Brenè Brown writes:
“The definition of vulnerability is uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure. But vulnerability is not weakness; it's our most accurate measure of courage.”
And so, what does it look like to be vulnerable as a leader? What are some simple ways to practice vulnerability in leadership?
Name the loneliness or the struggles that you experience and ask for partnership or help.
Share your challenges and your triumphs.
Check your emotional temperature. Say when you are having a hard day without oversharing. Brown suggests that vulnerability minus boundaries is not vulnerability. Vulnerability engenders trust whereas oversharing can feel like an emotional burden.
Broach sensitive topics in an authentic, respectful manner. Stand up for difficult issues that reflect your values.
Remember that showing up with vulnerability at work takes courage. It pushes us to be transparent, authentic, and share our full selves. It pushes us to investigate and accept imperfection. That might feel a little risky in the work environment. Ultimately, I suspect it will make work more connective, meaningful, and sustainable. It certainly did for me.