George Burkley is one of my favorite people at Signature. Even in an organization that is overflowing with passionate and focused individuals, George stands out as a leader. I could go on at length, but something tells me that George wouldn’t want me to that; one of his best qualities is his genuine humility.
After my last blog entry, Freedom and Purpose at Work, George posted this insight:
I feel very privileged to have participated in the Senior Team Meeting this week and to be with Signature. I was left with a strong sense of appreciation for the power of the individual spirit and the strength of a unified group. The exercise of new team members telling their personal stories and of longer term team members sharing personal triumphs and difficulties left me reminded of how vulnerable we all are at the core of our existence. But much more than that, the experience this week impressed upon me how uplifting, powerful and unique it is to be part of an organization that embraces vulnerability as part of the natural human condition, recognizes that sharing one’s frailty actually strengthens us and that humility should never be confused with weakness. Everyone that was in that room is a warrior in their own way.”
George was referring to something that happened during Senior Team meetings in the “Rev A” conference room last week. Joe Steier asked all of the newcomers to stand in front of the group to tell a story about a life lesson they had learned and to explain how and why they had ended up at Signature.
Now on paper that may sound like a great corporate Kum-Bah-Yah moment…but let me assure you as a participant that it felt quite different at the time! I’ve read various studies that place “public speaking” at the top of most people’s list of greatest fears. This was worse. We were being asked to tell intensely personal stories–without any preparation–in front of a large group of our closest peers and colleagues.
The potential for career-ending idiocy couldn’t have been any higher.
You could see the vulnerability on the faces of the speakers, as they bared their souls (or, in Brian Bruenderman’s case, brought down the house in a comic performance for the ages!) in front of one of the toughest crowds you’ll find anywhere.
The stories they told were amazing. One person spoke about growing up as the only boy in a family of girls, raised by a single mother who dedicated every ounce of her being to raising her children. All I could think as I listened to him was how proud his mother would be of him today. Another told of how he learned of his mother’s death by seeing her death certificate lying casually on a nursing station desk at the hospital. His passion for improving healthcare is intensely personal. Others spoke of losing siblings to cancer, or seeing loved ones succumb to Alzheimer’s.
As George pointed out, it took incredible courage to be that vulnerable in front of a group of colleagues. And what a blessing it was to those who heard the stories! We got to see the heart of each of the newcomers, and we left the room knowing them not just by their names, titles and job functions, but as whole people with stories that matter. The organization as a whole was more coherent and purpose-driven for having gone through that exercise. I only wish that I knew everyone in that room’s story, as opposed to just those who have joined in the last 6 weeks or so.
George’s post made me think of our residents, some of the most vulnerable people in the country. In many cases, they depend on our CNAs and nurses for even the smallest of tasks: help going to the bathroom or brushing their teeth, help turning over in bed, help remembering the names of their family.
As an organization and as individuals, we have to enter into that vulnerability with them, to share in their frailty and humility. If we don’t do that, we won’t truly understand them, and we will be the poorer for it. As George said, “frailty actually strengthens us, and humility should never be confused with weakness.”
I know that this is not an easy task; the world (especially the corporate world) teaches us to guard against any weakness, to project an air of supreme invulnerability, as the recipe for “success.” But that is false strength. True strength is what the newcomers showed last week and what so many of our residents show every day. It is to share the vulnerability that we all possess and that is, as George said, “at the core of our existence.” It is to approach the mysteries of life and death with true fear and trembling. It is to let down your defenses and share the softness of your heart.
It is to be a humble warrior in the service of something higher than yourself.