Sometimes you need to treat people like stars
A lesson in managing people
When I was in my early twenties, I had somehow convinced a number of people that it would be a really good idea if I was in charge of the BC Chess Federation.
It wasn’t a good idea actually, and I was terrible at it, but I was very convincing at the time.
I’m really over simplifying, but my primary responsibility as the person leading organized chess was to get as many people playing organized chess as I could. And one way to do that was to have many events and hence to make chess really accessible. But getting that to happen required people to voluntarily help run chess tournaments, and there just weren’t that many people who were willing to do that because, let’s face it, being a chess tournament organizer isn’t a particularly glamorous job, and it’s not like you got paid for it either.
There were a few tournament organizers in the Vancouver area, but one tournament organizer in particular, Sam, he had always been a huge supporter of me, we were good friends, and he volunteered tirelessly and selflessly.
One weekend Sam called me and told me about how someone tried to pay his tournament fee with all pennies. One on hand, Sam didn’t want to accept the pennies, and on the other hand, he knew that every player was important and so he felt pressured to take the player’s money. But the more Sam thought about it, the more upset he had gotten, and by the time we talked he said that he never wanted to deal with the player again and wanted him banned from all organized chess activity for the rest of the year.
My response to Sam was that we couldn’t do that, that it was going a bit too far, and I’m sorry, but there was nothing I could do. I thought I was being objective, I thought I was being impartial and fair.
That was Sam’s last tournament. He never volunteered or organized another tournament for us again.
If I had to guess, I’d say Sam felt under appreciated, that I didn’t have his back, that (given the circumstances) what he was getting out of it didn’t nearly match what he was putting into it.
When people start to feel this way, they also start to check out and become disengaged. And if they’re one of your very best employees, then they’re likely on their way out the door.
I may not have agreed with Sam, but I should have spent a bit more time trying to walk in his shoes. I should have made him feel like I supported him, that he was incredibly important to the organization, and we would do what we could to make things right. I might not be able fix it, but I sure would try.
I have never treated my employees (volunteer or otherwise) with kid gloves, and I have never tolerated prima donnas — but that wasn’t Sam. He was prolific, loyal, tireless, and unselfish. And while the outcome may have been the same, how I went about it should have been very different.
The responsibilities of a leader include framing the facts and decisions of an organization in a way that both matters and motivates. And the more important someone is to the organization, then the more critical it is that you work and collaborate with them in a way that keeps them invested and engaged.
