On Oct. 1st I start a new job.
I feel like tomorrow is my first day at a new school. I've mapped out my new commute, packed my lunch, and set out my clothes. And although it's been many years since I actually started a new class I remember the excitement of preparing the night before.
Thankfully, this time the excitement isn't accompanied by creeping anxiety. My old fears of being the only student who can't open my locker. Or worse, picturing the taunting I'd receive after I accidentally walked into the boys bathroom, are a thing of the past. I don't even think about being called on by a teacher and not having the proper response.
Nope, the fear is gone and its replaced by the knowledge that starting something new can bring with it pure joy. Sure, I may get lost on my way to the lunch room. And I'm sure it will take weeks to learn the company's acronym soup. But after years of doing what I love, I have the confidence to know that's all part of the fun of learning.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Engaging People, a Natural Instinct?
What is it about a good sales person that makes you want to buy more? Why do some customer service representatives solve your problem but still leave you unsatisfied? How do your children know exactly what button to push?
At the end of the day, all of these questions can be answered the same way. A good sales person makes you feel special. A bad customer service representative didn't make an emotional connection through the phone, or across the desk. Your children make it their job to know you best - after all, you are the keeper of all things special - that new video game, permission to drink a glass of soda, or say it isn't so -- giver of that embarrassing kiss good-bye in front of their friends.
Why do some people do a good job of making you want to be around them and others seem to have a force that projects you away. For answers to that I look at my own family. I have four boys, each with wonderful special talents, each totally different. With the same genetic inputs and home environment how come my 8 year old Derick has always had a special ability to make strangers fall in love with him? Whether it was another young boy from San Francisco who happened to stay at the same Mexican resort as our family on vacation last summer, or the bus driver who shuffles dozens of kids to school each day, Derick charms virtually everyone he meets on the first visit. Is he more confident than my other children -- for the most part no. Does he have a better sense of humor? No, they all tell a great story and have funny one liners. Is he smarter, faster, more handsome? No, no and no. But he does have a type of radar for knowing what makes you feel special. He instinctively knows what question to ask that will engage you in a conversation that you care about.
I've found that my top performing sales colleagues share that same trait. They not only know who to spend time with, but how to make them engage. My most successful marketing campaigns have achieved the same - a dialogue.
While the skills are clearly natural for some people, can you learn to be a magnet for your target audience? If the answer is yes, there are a few people I'd like to put through "magnetism bootcamp" -- a certain Comcast service representative, the last webcast moderator I sat painfully through and a grumpy crossing guard top my list.
What do you think?
At the end of the day, all of these questions can be answered the same way. A good sales person makes you feel special. A bad customer service representative didn't make an emotional connection through the phone, or across the desk. Your children make it their job to know you best - after all, you are the keeper of all things special - that new video game, permission to drink a glass of soda, or say it isn't so -- giver of that embarrassing kiss good-bye in front of their friends.
Why do some people do a good job of making you want to be around them and others seem to have a force that projects you away. For answers to that I look at my own family. I have four boys, each with wonderful special talents, each totally different. With the same genetic inputs and home environment how come my 8 year old Derick has always had a special ability to make strangers fall in love with him? Whether it was another young boy from San Francisco who happened to stay at the same Mexican resort as our family on vacation last summer, or the bus driver who shuffles dozens of kids to school each day, Derick charms virtually everyone he meets on the first visit. Is he more confident than my other children -- for the most part no. Does he have a better sense of humor? No, they all tell a great story and have funny one liners. Is he smarter, faster, more handsome? No, no and no. But he does have a type of radar for knowing what makes you feel special. He instinctively knows what question to ask that will engage you in a conversation that you care about.
I've found that my top performing sales colleagues share that same trait. They not only know who to spend time with, but how to make them engage. My most successful marketing campaigns have achieved the same - a dialogue.
While the skills are clearly natural for some people, can you learn to be a magnet for your target audience? If the answer is yes, there are a few people I'd like to put through "magnetism bootcamp" -- a certain Comcast service representative, the last webcast moderator I sat painfully through and a grumpy crossing guard top my list.
What do you think?
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Before You Talk, Think Like a Listener
Last night I watched President Obama address Congress about health insurance reform. It's a stark contrast to the Woburn Mayoral debate hosted in our local high school earlier in the evening. Yet they both have something important in common. Both forums are putting very personal, emotional issues on the table, trying to solicit support from a wide range of people.
I've long been intrigued by organization change initiatives and while politics is different from running a family, or operating a business, I'm surprised how common the challenges of change are among all groups.
In an attempt to gain a fresh perspective I brought my 11 year old son to the mayoral debate. While we were not able to attend the entire session, it was an enlightening experience. It served to remind me that how you communicate is as important as what you communicate, especially while championing change.
After listening to opening statements and the candidates respond to a few questions I asked Nicholas who he would vote for based on what he knew at the time. To my surprise he answered quickly and definitively, "the man in the brown suit". Perhaps not coincidentally, I would make the same choice, although I had not shared that with Nicholas.
Curious, I asked him why. He responded immediately, "because he's focused on solutions".
Was the man in the brown suit more qualified for the job than the other three candidates? No, most had similar levels of business and political experience. Did he offer solutions that were significantly different from the other candidates? No, in fact they all seemed to provide similar recommendations.
The difference: How he communicated. The "brown suit candidate" was prepared, articulate, and responded to the issues at hand thoughtfully giving a sense of openness. By contrast two of the other candidates were disrespectful of the time allotted to respond, focused on other's weaknesses instead of their own strengths and generally appeared disorganized. The final candidate, the incumbent mayor, was organized, and articulate. But perhaps because he was under attack, or perhaps because of his personal style he focused on past performance, was rigid, and projected a closed persona.
In political debates, in the board room, or sitting at lunch with your friends the lesson holds true -- don't just think about what you want to say, but how you want to say it.
I've long been intrigued by organization change initiatives and while politics is different from running a family, or operating a business, I'm surprised how common the challenges of change are among all groups.
In an attempt to gain a fresh perspective I brought my 11 year old son to the mayoral debate. While we were not able to attend the entire session, it was an enlightening experience. It served to remind me that how you communicate is as important as what you communicate, especially while championing change.
After listening to opening statements and the candidates respond to a few questions I asked Nicholas who he would vote for based on what he knew at the time. To my surprise he answered quickly and definitively, "the man in the brown suit". Perhaps not coincidentally, I would make the same choice, although I had not shared that with Nicholas.
Curious, I asked him why. He responded immediately, "because he's focused on solutions".
Was the man in the brown suit more qualified for the job than the other three candidates? No, most had similar levels of business and political experience. Did he offer solutions that were significantly different from the other candidates? No, in fact they all seemed to provide similar recommendations.
The difference: How he communicated. The "brown suit candidate" was prepared, articulate, and responded to the issues at hand thoughtfully giving a sense of openness. By contrast two of the other candidates were disrespectful of the time allotted to respond, focused on other's weaknesses instead of their own strengths and generally appeared disorganized. The final candidate, the incumbent mayor, was organized, and articulate. But perhaps because he was under attack, or perhaps because of his personal style he focused on past performance, was rigid, and projected a closed persona.
In political debates, in the board room, or sitting at lunch with your friends the lesson holds true -- don't just think about what you want to say, but how you want to say it.
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