Defining Blue Collar Leadership

I’ve coined this term, Blue Collar LeadershipTM . What is Blue Collar Leadership? The term blue collar can evoke emotions, some of which are negative. When I say it, I say it with a sense of pride. My dad was a blue collar worker and so was my mom. I started out as a blue collar worker, and I suspect most of us have.

Those manual and sometimes dirty jobs are some of the most important in our society. They are the people who are hauling away our trash and cleaning our streets which helps prevent disease. They are the people picking our fruits and vegetables so we have food on our tables and they are the people offering services which require skills I don’t have the gifts to learn. Blue collar workers are the backbone of our society. When I say blue collar workers, I sit up straighter and honor their work.

Leading people who provide the day in and day out services in our world requires a different mindset than someone like me who sits in a corporate tower staring at a computer screen. And, I suggest these are the same leadership qualities we all need regardless if you are the CEO on the top floor or the driver behind the truck bringing me my latest goods from my online cart.

Blue Collar Leadership is real

Every person I have met who is in a blue collar role has a “what you see is what you get” personality. There is corporate jargon or BS. They are straight up, honest and strip away an pretense. And, they expect you to do the same.

Sometimes people equate blue collar with uneducated – which is absolutely false! They are deeply educated – maybe not with the latest trending book on business “must read” list. They are educate in real life. They read people amazingly well and see through any sugar coating. And, they expect their leaders, supervisors, boss to do the same. Just call a spade a spade.

If you are leading people who are the front lines, doing the jobs for which you don’t have the training or gifts, just lay out the truth. Don’t use weasel words or corporate speak. Just lay it out there. They will see through your BS anyway.

Blue Collar Leadership is practical

When I moved into my first home, my Dad went through and did all the safety stuff. He changed my locks, the code to my garage door opener, and checked my windows, my fuse box, and other mechanical items. As he was about to leave, he turned around and handed me a roll of duct tape and said, “You’re going to need this.”

Everything he did was practical. When I was thinking about unpacking and organizing, he took what was essential for a new home. As a person who works in corporate America, I’ve seen the same thing. People located in what has been called the “ivory tower” try to make everything fancy or put lipstick on a pig. In reality, a roll of duct tape will do.

When leading people it is most often best to take the practical approach. Don’t overcomplicate a solution. Listen to the people – the most simple, practical approach is probably the right one.

Blue Collar Leadership is community

One of the most wonderful aspects of blue collar living is freedom. That isn’t to say we experience full financial release, rather, the job is defined – 8 hours, 5 days a week… usually. As a result, blue collar people have more time to be with friends and family. There is a focus on something more lasting and important: the relationships in their lives. If that value is not honored, you won’t be respected. End of story.

If your staff comes to you and says they need to go home because their child is sick, a neighbor is stranded or a parent needs a helping hand, it is a priority for them and they will want to attend to the need. Let them and you know what, their co-workers will likely pick up the slack because that is what you do – you help.

Yes, there are those who take advantage of a situation. And I argue they are the exception not the rule. Deal with the exception, but set the example and allow the people to be people and serve one another.

Blue Collar Leadership is an honor and demands humility. The deep knowing people need leaders who are real, practical and value community. And, whether you are blue, white, purple, green or golden collared, isn’t that what we all want?

Why Dad’s Last Project

After my Dad died in 2015, I became the administrator of my parents’ estate. Estate is a rather grandiose term for what they had, which was primarily a house and a small amount in a mutual fund. Mom passed away in 2011 and it was now time to liquidate their few assets and sell my childhood home. 

Dad did a lot after Mom died to get his finances in order. When any of my siblings would call or come home (they all live out of state), he would ask if there was something they had their heart on. He wanted to be the one to make decisions so I wouldn’t be caught in the middle later. Overall and compared to other friends or family, the liquidation process went smoothly. 

When people ask me what Dad did that made everything so easy for me. I told them the practical side – he consolidated assets and accounts, he made decisions about what to keep, toss or donate after Mom died, he had me and my brother on all accounts so we could easily access them after he passed away, and most importantly, he spoke to each of my siblings telling them if they didn’t want it, I was being given instructions to sell it, donate it or trash it. Not only did Dad tell me what to sell, he told me how. He said to have an auction and told me to ask my uncle for a reference. That was Dad. He thought through the details, possibilities and alternatives.

About Dad and Mom

My Dad grew up on a farm, served in the Air Force for four years and came back to Minnesota to get married. He worked in a factory for 30+ years before “retiring” and becoming a school bus driver until his early seventies. 

Dad was also a handy guy. He not only taught me how to use a hammer and nails, but showed me how to use power tools and make small home repairs. He enjoyed woodworking creating benches, chairs, cabinets, wishing wells, and so much more. Dad always had a project going. Whether it was something he would sell to friends like bird houses or something for around the house like Adirondack chairs or a spice cabinet, Dad was always creating. 

Mom was the daughter of a blacksmith. She had an associate degree in accounting and worked part-time as an office manager for a small printing company when I was growing up. She took a full-time position in retail after I started kindergarten. Although Mom used to sew many of our clothes, I think in her heart, she really liked working outside the home. She worked in the catalog department for a major department store and then moved into shipping and receiving for 25+ years before “retiring” and then working at the same school bus company as Dad where she served as an aide for bus drivers. She was never an aide on a bus Dad drove. “That is too much togetherness,” she once said. 

My parents were high school sweethearts from a small school in southern Minnesota. Their graduating class was around 50 people. Neither of my parents had fancy degrees or titles or offices with doors in large corporate towers or any of the other things commonly associated with success. Yet, when I reflect back I can easily see the beautiful and simple way in which my parents shaped their lives. 

They were quick to help others and serve in the community where they lived for 50+ years. They raised four children on “blue collar” salaries, and all of us have managed to come out fairly well-adjusted adults (not without our own battle scars of course). Three went to college and have bachelor’s and master’s degrees. One followed in Dad’s footsteps and served in the US Air Force. All of us serve in our communities, continuing that legacy from our parents. 

I am the youngest of the four. There are five years between my next siblings and me. By the time I was thirteen, it was just Dad, Mom and me. In many ways I felt like an only child. There were people who actually thought Dad and Mom had only one child since I was the only one who remained living in our home state. 

I was Daddy’s little girl through and through. I remember going to his workshop and talking to him for what seemed like hours after dinner and before bed. I confided in him my school dilemmas and boy troubles. He showed me his latest project and sometimes let me help. More often, he would just listen while I rambled. It was Dad who took me to my first movie in the theater, brought me in to get my ears pierced and showed me how to drive a manual transmission. I liked being in the yard helping Dad weed our garden or pick up sticks before he mowed the lawn. Time with my Dad was precious then and right up until he passed away. 

My Dad and Mom lived their life as an example to me, the values they instilled and how it all plays out for me today. They didn’t read or follow the advice of any authorities on parenting. They just took the small town values of a farmer’s son and a blacksmith’s daughter to how they raised us, raised me. 

Our story is far from perfect. There were deeply difficult times and several amazing memories. All the good, bad, ugly and beautiful one would expect from a family. Yet, through all of it there was practical advice, lessons learned, a commitment to serve and most of all a deep faith to ground us. 

Although Dad always had some project he was doing, in the end, I think Dad intended his last project to be me. 

The useless performance review

We are at that time of the year – mid-year reviews. When I think about managing people, especially those who might have been in the workplace for a longer period of their life or even Gen Z or Millennials, I believe more and more how antiquated performance reviews are. I’ve always thought they are simply a legal document, a CYA so if you need to lay someone off or fire them, it provides the documentation to do so. It is for those “gotcha” moments. And, I understand we live in a litigious society and we’ve evolved to this place where that documentation is needed.

When I think of my Dad in the workplace, I know he worked hard and he didn’t care about promotions and fancy titles or offices with doors. When he worked the day shift, he was home at night for dinner and would attend my softball or soccer games. When he worked the night shift, he would make me breakfast or kiss me goodbye as I came home from school as he left for work. And those days he worked graveyard, I didn’t really see him at all. I don’t think he cared about meet expectations, exceeded expectations or needs improvement. I think he just wanted to come in, do his job and get on with his life – focus on the things he really valued.

Today’s “blue collar workers” are those in the office. With technology and dynamic economy, the blue collar worker is one who works 8 – 5, with an hour for lunch, sits at a desk, manipulating spreadsheets, writing reports or creating slide decks. They are presenting, selling an idea or project, and pretend that this latest “gadget” is something they about which they are passionate – until they move to a new job and then they start drinking the kool-aid there.

In today’s dynamic workplace, I wonder what value performance reviews offer. I graduated from high school, college, completed a master’s degree, why do I continue to need to be graded – and if I do need to be graded, am I being graded on anything that really matters?

What I feel is lacking in performance reviews is motivating people to perform well based on what will matter at the end of a lifetime. Do you take a moment and congratulate someone on balancing their personal and professional commitments well? Do we celebrate when someone took a moment to step back to bring others along, to help a colleague be successful and build up the team? We measure results, but we don’t always take a moment to acknowledge and appreciate the moments, the moments when someone showed kindness, consideration and gave a person a break for having a bad day.

I am a believer the results will come when you unite a team around the common goal – and the team knows they are there for each other, that each member is more concerned about the others success then their own. So what if we switched the narrative from an individual performance review to a team review? We started to communicate that we want more unity rather than individualism? To show we really believed everyone can lead from their chair and can lead in moment?

Silencing voices

Let’s go deeper into what happens to your team when you have dog syndrome.

Recently at my performance review, my boss at the time told me to speak up more, to use my voice. She said she knows I understand the business and have great insights. She encouraged me to offer those insights in the moment. This is the same person who is rich on criticism and light on praise.

Since that point, I have a new boss and her insecurity has come out. She often feels the need to recite her credentials, her experiences and put others’ credentials and experience down in the process. It is the attitude of “I’ve done this before – bigger and better than any of you.” Her intent isn’t to malign, rather it comes from a place of needing to prove herself, let us know she is worthy of our respect and trust.

In both of these cases, the last thing I want to do is compete. I can compete in bowling or a board game. And in my youth my competitive streak ran deep on the soccer or softball field. I was fiercely determined in high school and college academically. It was well known when I set my mind to something, it got done. It was done well and I won.

That same fervor isn’t there for me in the workplace especially I now work in an organization that really does have a greater purpose – something in which I believe. That makes the work more rewarding. And, all the more reason I don’t want to compete with my colleagues or my boss.

And so when the insecurity comes out in my boss, I just let it go. I do as I am told and walk away. I go home and snuggle my furry pals. My voice is silenced by someone else’s insecurity. I don’t compete with that gaping hole in someone else’s life because I can’t fill their cup. I can listen, I can advise and coach, and I can affirm. But, I won’t compete for space or go to battle over non-substantive matters. My voice will go silent not because I am weak, but because the “care” has been driven out of me. I play the political game, then close down and move on.

I’m not alone in this behavior. How many of us have heard our friends or family say, “I just go to work and do what I’m told.” My Dad use to say that. He and many others have chosen to silence their voice rather than compete. When really, what I or anyone else wants is the thrive through collaboration, knowing our thoughts, battle scars and life learnings are valued and needed. We want to contribute, but instead ego gets in the way and we go silent.

I will never understand how some of the most insecure people I’ve met tend to also be in top leadership roles in companies. What did someone see in them because from here in the trenches, it doesn’t make sense. And some of the best people I know, whose voices have been silenced, could show up and lead from a place of practical experience, intellectual curiosity and empathy since they have been there, in the trenches. They know. They could be those blue collar leaders.

The say the cream doesn’t rise to the top and what I have described is a vicious circle – the ones who lead are the ones who silence those who could and likely should. How much are losing in not encouraging people to live to their fullest potential. How is that circle broken? I’ll let you know when I figure it out. But right now, I’m going to snuggle my fur babies.

Overcoming the dog syndrome

After watching my Dad and in my twenty some years in the workplace, mostly spent as a middle manager, I found that executives are also human. And that comes with all the frailty humans bring into their interactions with others. This includes self-doubt, wanting to prove themselves and a desire to be valued for the gifts and talents they bring to the table.

On the other side are the people they manage who have those same desires. Often to them, however, success isn’t measured by a title or salary, it is by getting shit done. Checking off the list and moving onto the next thing. This doesn’t mean they don’t want to understand or even be part of the development of the strategy. They do – and they want to see the results of those efforts. They want to experience the thrill of the strategy being executed and obtaining goals. They want to get shit done.

These might be individual contributors like my Dad was or they could be middle managers like me. When these two levels come together – the middle manager or individual contributor and the executive – there is bound to be conflict.

Sometimes the conflict is on the how, and more often is it on the what. Newer leaders often say, “hey, what if we did xyz?” and portray it as an original idea, as their own. When in reality, last week or even last year, the middle manager or individual contributor did just that or even mentioned we should do xyz. However, the newer leader or executive needs to leave their imprint. To put it bluntly, like a dog, they need to piss on another’s work or ideas to establish their territory.

It doesn’t take much to realize how demotivating this is to the team. I’ve seen it happen. The team disengages, doesn’t feel empowered and just waits to be told to do the next big “original” idea that is going to ‘fix’ what is broken. In the meantime, the team moves blithely along doing what works for them because even if they did want to contribute differently, it would be devalued or stolen as an executive initiative.

It is obvious as I write this to see that this behavior isn’t helpful to grow, expand or motivate people or evolve an organization. What should be done? First, start by releasing the ego. This is the first, and hardest thing for executives to do. They reached the heights they did because of their egos and to let go of that, to take a more servant leader approach, is threatening to them. It means change – and for as much as executives talk about change management they aren’t good at it – especially when one of life’s main (de)motivators gets in the way – fear. Fear of losing their job, fear of not looking smart and fear of not looking capable. Fear is behind the executive leaders behaviors – including behaving like a dog and staining their territory.

To overcome the dog syndrome is to be self aware and curious. Be aware when you as an executive leader are peeing on your team. How do you do this? Before spewing an idea, ask your team and be curious. “What do you think if we…” Or, I’ve noticed you’ve been doing things this way and it looks more complicated than it needs to be. Is that a right observation? What would help you do your job better?” And the all time classic, “Have you all ever done this before?”

This simple starting point of curiosity will acknowledge your teams competence, without diminishing yours. It also is a step to inviting your team into new ideas or changes, making them not just part of the solution, but part of the ideation, growth, evolution. You’ll ignite a spirit of possibilities to get to the heart of their motivation – getting shit done.

Not only will you bring out the best in your team to move your organization forward, you will also bring out the best of yourself.

A Culture of And

I switched jobs at the beginning of the year. I liked my previous job and the company, and it was time to move on. And. It is a word I am using more these days.

I left and came back to my previous company. My dad was glad I went back. He didn’t say it at the time, but he thought I left too soon after Mom’s death. Going back provided me stability. It was a good run. Yet, my previous company was a deeply patriarchal, intensely political, public, Fortune 500 company. It was driven by profit, at the expense of the people – no matter how many times they said people mattered. It is was also a “but” company.  

A ‘but’ company looks for fault. Someone presents on a project. The leadership looks for what is wrong, poking holes which stops forward movement. The presenter then reworks, revises and re-presents a multitude of times, answering all the ‘buts,’ yet never getting the yes. A ‘but’ company is not prone to taking risks nor does it help people reach their fullest potential.

That is how I felt for years – always hitting the ‘but’ and not moving. The numbers proved that out as well. For the last four years, the division I worked in experienced slowing growth, and in some areas contraction. The ‘but’ prevented the company from investing in newer technologies, procedures or training. The ‘but’ stops, not starts.

I now work for a Fortune 500, non-profit services company. The CEO is a woman, the division in which I work is also led by a woman. The people are kind, collaborative as well as supportive. And, it is an ‘and’ company. An ‘and’ company validates your opinions, builds on your original thinking or initiative and progresses. An ‘and’ culture makes a plan, works the plan and asks, what else? It is forward thinking. The ‘and’ starts conversation, builds momentum and allows great minds to flourish.

Moving to an ‘and’ company has been a shift for me, and it is a culture I like. I find I do not get caught in this spiral into nothingness. I am beginning to shed the layers of protectiveness and armor and sink into this culture of ‘and’. It is liberating, and a bit scary.

A culture of ‘and’ means accountability. There is nothing to hide behind, no lack of leadership to blame. A culture of ‘and’ demands that people step up, try, fail quickly, learn and move on. And, it is a culture of freedom. I can bring thoughts, ideas to the table. I don’t need to have the details fully fleshed out because I am one in a group of smart people, each bringing diverse talent and skills to the table. Unlike a ‘but’ culture, I am not alone or commiserating with other. I am an ‘and’. And you. And us.

I am still growing into this new role, this new culture. And I think my Dad would be proud that I found my space, feel like I can reach my potential. I am coming into my own. I like it. I like the liberation from buts, moving into the space of ands. I now catch myself when I am about to say, ‘but’ and quickly think, how can I make this an ‘and’. How can I share in and be part of this beauty to bring the best of myself to the table, and create the space and opportunity for others to do the same? An ‘and’ culture works, and that is exciting.