Back in an earlier part of my employed career, I was Training Manager and, subsequently, Personnel Manager of a substantial Cosmetics and Fragrances Company. I was based at the company’s modern factory and offices in Essex (For our Overseas visitors, Essex is a Home County, situated east of London). Although, the company had achieved international reach and reputation, it had, always, maintained a family atmosphere and a responsible place in the local community, from whence it drew its workforce.
In keeping with its family values, it was the company’s practice, each year, to run a Christmas party for the children of its employees. Although, the Children’s Party Committee (There’s, always, a committee!) discussed and agreed the overall format and budget for the party, it fell to the Personnel Department, actually, to organise and run the event. We were, ably, assisted by some really supportive volunteers from, both, the factory and offices.
A number of committee members were aware that one of my leisure interests, at the time, was as a member of a band. Because our ‘middle-of-the-road’ style would suit the event, I was asked to approach the band to provide the entertainment for the party. We, readily, agreed. All the band members were more than pleased to waive any fee.
The day of the party, duly, arrived as did, what seemed to be, an avalanche of five to ten year old children. It included my own seven year old son and five year old daughter. The party began with the serious matter of the ‘sit-down’ tea. Trays of assorted sandwiches and cakes, gallons of lemonade and swamp-loads of trifle later, we started the music and games.
To amuse the children, each member of the band was dressed as a character from ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’ (Lewis Carroll 1832 – 1898). Jo, who played saxophone and clarinet, as the only female in the group was, of course, Alice. Brian, our lead guitar and banjoist, was dressed as the White Rabbit. Peter, our drummer, portrayed a very convincing Cheshire Cat and Bing (real name ‘Alan’, but surname ‘Crosby’), our pianist was dressed as the Dormouse. Bing was, particularly, well-cast, because he shared the same sleepy outlook on life as the Dormouse. As I was compering the entertainment, it was decided that I should be the Madhatter, complete with signature felt top hat.
To add a further touch of fantasy, quite early on, in proceedings, I told the children about the magical powers of my hat. I told them that, other than me, anyone putting my hat on, would, instantly, go to sleep. Just to demonstrate the point, I placed the hat on Brian’s head. His chin slumped to his chest and he began to snore, quietly. I then transferred the hat to Peter’s head. With a clatter of falling drumsticks, he slumped over his drum kit, in a state of dreamy repose. Jo was next. She was sitting by the piano, talking to Bing. The arrival of the hat caused her to stretch an arm across the piano and then, resting her head on her arm, she ‘drifted off’. Finally, it was Bing’s turn. Although, the hat seemed to have the same effect on Bing, we were not, altogether, sure that he wasn’t, already, asleep! After this demonstration of the hat’s magical powers, I set it aside and embarked the children upon an energetic game of ‘Musical Chairs’ (Separate game for the ‘wee ‘uns’).
We were not long into the game, when I felt someone tugging at my sleeve. I looked down to discover a rather mischievous face looking back up at me. I recognised the face to belong to Sidney, the five year old son of one our Warehouse Supervisors; and he was wearing my hat!
I inquired, “What’s the problem, Sidney?”
Sidney replied, “It doesn’t work.”
I then asked, “What doesn’t work?”
Sidney explained, “Your hat. I’ve had it on my head for ages, but I’m still awake. It doesn’t work.”
I garbled some lame excuse about the hat’s battery going flat, but it was obvious that Sidney didn’t believe me. He toddled off, not only totally unconvinced of the anesthetic properties of my hat, but also certain in the knowledge that adults are either stupid or ‘fibbers’ – or both! I’d lost my credibility with Sidney.
And so, what is the point of this story? Well, I suggest that it, effectively, highlights the importance of your personal credibility in all communications and, by extension, in all relationships.
The respect that you attract, as a manager, from your immediate team, as well as colleagues from across the organization, is derived from the degree of belief that they can invest in what you say and do. As a leader, it is your personal integrity, together with that of the rest of the management team, which establishes and maintains an organizational culture of honesty, trust and openness. This culture enables and encourages everyone in the organization to contribute and realize their full potential.
Don’t lose your credibility with Sidney!
This Seasonal saga contributed to the DNA of the following Training Package