A must read EXCERPT from "The 7 Habits of Highly effective people":
My seven-year-old son, Stephen,
volunteered to take care of the yard. Before I actually gave him a job, I began
a thorough training process. I wanted him to have a clear picture in his mind
of what a well-cared-for yard was like, so I took him next door to our neighbor's.
"Look, son," I said. "See
how our neighbor's yard is green and clean? That's what we're after: green and
clean. Now come look at our yard. See the mixed colors? That's not it; that's
not green. Green and clean is what we want. Now how you get it green is up to
you. You're free to do it any way you want, except paint it. But I'll tell you
how I'd do it if it were up to me."
"How would you do it, Dad?"
"I'd turn on the sprinklers. But you
may want to use buckets or a hose. It makes no difference to me. All we care
about is that the color is green. Okay?"
"Okay ."
"Now let's talk about 'clean,' Son.
Clean means no messes around -- no paper, strings, bones, sticks, or anything
that messes up the place. I'll tell you what let's do. Let's just clean up half
of the yard right now and look at the difference."
So we got out two paper sacks and picked
up one side of the yard. "Now look at this side. Look at the other side.
See the difference? That's called clean."
"Wait!" he called. "I see
some paper behind that bush!"
"Oh, good! I didn't notice that
newspaper back there. You have good eyes, Son."
"Now before you
decide whether or not you're going to take the job, let me tell you a few more
things. Because when you take the job, I
don't do it anymore. It's your job. It's called a stewardship. Stewardship
means 'a job with a trust.' I trust you to do the job, to get it done. Now
who's going to be your boss?"
"You, Dad?"
"No, not me. You're the boss. You
boss yourself. How do you like Mom and Dad nagging you all the time?"
"I don't."
"We don't like doing it either. It
sometimes causes a bad feeling doesn't it? So you boss yourself. Now, guess who
your helper is."
"Who?"
"I am," I said.
"You boss me."
"I do?"
"That's right. But my time to
help is limited. Sometimes I'm away. But when I'm here, you tell me
how I can help. I'll do anything you want me to do." "Okay!"
"Now guess who judges you."
"Who?"
"You judge
yourself."
"I do?"
"That's right. Twice a week the two of
us will walk around the yard and you can show me how it's coming.
How are you going to judge?"
"Green and clean."
"Right!"
I
trained him with those two words for two weeks before I felt he was ready to
take the job.
Finally, "That's the
big day came.
"Is it a deal, Son?"
"It's a deal."
"What's
the job?"
"Green and clean."
"What's green?"
He looked
at our yard, which was beginning to look better.
the color of his yard." "What's
clean?" "No messes." "Who's the boss?" "I
am."
Then he pointed next door.
"Who's your helper?"
"You
are, when you have time."
"Who's the judge?"
"I am. We'll
walk around two times a week and I can show you how it's coming."
"And
what will we look for?"
"Green and clean."
At that time I didn't
mention an allowance. But I wouldn't hesitate to attach an allowance to such a stewardship.
Two
weeks and two words. I thought he was ready.
It was Saturday. And he did
nothing. Sunday...nothing. Monday...nothing. As I pulled out of the
driveway on my way to work on Tuesday, I looked at the yellow, cluttered yard
and the hot July sun on its way up. "Surely he'll do it today," I
thought. I could rationalize Saturday because that was the day we made the
agreement. I could rationalize Sunday; Sunday was for other things. But I couldn't
rationalize Monday. And now it was Tuesday. Certainly he'd do it today. It was
summertime. What else did he have to do?
All day I could hardly wait to return home
to see what happened. As I rounded the corner, I was met with the same picture
I left that morning. And there was my son at the park across the street
playing.
This was not acceptable. I was upset and
disillusioned by his performance after two weeks of training and all those
commitments. We had a lot of effort, pride, and money invested in the yard and
I could see it going down the drain. Besides, my neighbor's yard was manicured
and beautiful, and the situation was beginning to get embarrassing.
I was ready to go back to gofer
delegation. Son, you get over here and pick up this garbage right now or else!
I knew I could get the golden egg that way. But what about the goose? What
would happen to his internal commitment?
So I faked a smile and yelled across the
street, "Hi, Son. How's it going?"
"Fine!" he returned.
"How's
the yard coming?" I knew the minute I said it I had broken our agreement.
That's not the
way we had set up an accounting. That's not what we had agreed.
"How's
the yard coming?" I knew the minute I said it I had broken our agreement.
That's not the
way we had set up an accounting. That's not what we had agreed.
So
he felt justified in breaking it, too. "Fine, Dad."
I bit my tongue
and waited until after dinner. Then I said, "Son, let's do as we agreed.
Let's walk around
the yard together and you can show me how it's going in your stewardship."
As
we started out the door, his chin began to quiver. Tears welled up in his eyes
and, by the time we got out to the middle of the yard, he
was whimpering.
"It's so hard, Dad!"
What's so hard? I thought to
myself. You haven't done a single thing! But I knew what was hard
-- self management, self-supervision. So I said, "Is there anything I can
do to help?" "Would you, Dad?" he sniffed
"What was our
agreement?"
"You said you'd help me if you had time."
"I have time."
So he ran into the house and came back
with two sacks. He handed me one. "Will you pick that stuff up?" He
pointed to the garbage from Saturday night's barbecue. "It makes me
sick!"
So I did. I did exactly what he asked me
to do. And that was when he signed the agreement in his heart. It became his
yard, his stewardship.
He only asked for help two or three more
times that entire summer. He took care of that yard. He kept it greener and
cleaner than it had ever been under my stewardship. He even reprimanded his
brothers and sisters if they left so much as a gum wrapper on the lawn.
Trust is the highest form of human
motivation. It brings out the very best in people. But it takes time and
patience, and it doesn't preclude the necessity to train and develop people so
that their competency can rise to the level of that trust.
I am convinced that if stewardship
delegation is done correctly, both parties will benefit and ultimately much
more work will get done in much less time.
Courtesy: The seven habits of highly effective people
