Happy New Year

Most people start new endeavors on January 1st. I don’t like starting new projects on January 1st. First of all, that day is an actual holiday. Plus, we are free-falling from at least six weeks of gluttony. To me, starting new things on the first of the year is like a cold plunge. It’s too much; and yes, I’m fully aware of the benefits of a cold plunge, but I prefer to ease into the year. I prefer to start new ambitious ventures on February 1st.

Before I go on, I think I should set the stage with some of my background. I don’t think people share their stories enough. I always want to know the background:

• How did you get here?
• What was the path?
• Where were the bumps in the road?
• What did you learn along the way?

Folks rarely share their stories up front, so I tend to make up tall tales about their history and their journey (sometimes I’m right, but more often than not, the story I tell myself is way off). I think having background on a person helps understand where they’re coming from, it helps understand why they behave the way they do, why they value what they do. And so, I’d like to share some of my story.

I’m the first person in my family to go to college. Michigan State University was the first acceptance letter I received. This was back in the day when you got a big envelope. When I opened the envelope it read: “Congratulations! You are a Spartan!” I was so excited I woke my parents up by jumping in their bed at midnight. I hadn’t checked out Michigan State yet, but in March of my senior year of high school, two months after my acceptance letter arrived, I drove out to visit and fell in love with Michigan State, It matched the image I had in my head about what college should look and feel like. I arrived on the coldest, wettest, dreariest day in March that you can imagine – and yet, I knew I belonged there. I needed to be there (shout out to Luis Garcia for giving me and my sister, Nicole Rodill, and our foreign exchange student from Finland, Ulla, the best campus tour).

Fast forward to September of that year, my parents, 12-year-old sister and I drove in our black Chevy Blazer to East Lansing. On a perfect autumn Friday, my family moved me in to Gilchrist Hall on the North part of campus. The next morning, we had breakfast and then they drove me to the Michigan State Federal Credit Union. In the parking lot of the credit union, my mom gave me a check for more money than I’d ever seen. She directed me to go in, open a checking account, deposit the check, and get a credit card. When I asked her where she was going, she replied it was time for them hit the road and drive back home to NJ. She gave me a big hug, told me how much she loved me, and how proud she was of me. My sister and I hugged tightly, said how much we would miss one another, and that we were already counting the days to Thanksgiving. There wasn’t a dry eye amongst the three of us.

As I turned to say good-bye to my father, he put his nose to my nose and his forehead to my forehead, looked me dead in the eye and said, “Don’t F*CK Up”. Then my family turned away, got in the black Chevy Blazer and left me crying in the Michigan State University Federal Credit Union parking lot.

Later that evening, my mom called from a roadside motel to check in on me. I told her I was doing OK; although, I had spent most of the afternoon crying, second-guessing my decision and wondering what I was thinking about going nearly 1,000 miles away from home. I said to my mom, “Dad didn’t even cry, he wasn’t even sad to leave me.” My mom said, “Kimmy, he cried all the way to the Ohio border.”

These are the people who raised me and shaped so much of how I approach life.

Why am I recounting this story? How is this remotely relevant to a career in HR and corporate life?  Here’s how: it’s the underpinning model (perhaps motto?) that I’ve lived with all my life. Yes, it’s a little harsh. No, it is neither soft nor fuzzy. Of course, it is flawed, as it allows no room for error. BUT, it absolutely gets the point across. I know exactly what it means. It IS clear and direct and decisive. There’s no wiggle room in it. I tell you that because I believe employees want their leaders to be clear, and direct, and decisive. What do you think would happen if leaders and organizations were more intentional about not letting the words get in the way? How can leaders more effectively invest some time up front with their employees to collaborate on desired outcomes?

This endearing story about my dad and his non-traditional ways may explain a lot about me to many of you. Certainly, I’m not condoning that anyone (18-year-old  about to head off to college; or any level of employee should be spoken to in this manner). But my dad definitely has a point of view. A handful of his “insights” will absolutely have to wait for my book, because as you can see from the first piece of advice, his language is not website appropriate.

I have opinions and oh so many questions – but no answers. What do you think?

Here’s to 2024!