The teachers all around me say, "How come you're so strict? You're so mean. And they won't leave your room. They're here after school. They're here at lunch. These kids never go away. What the heck are you doing in there?"

That's Carla, a middle school teacher in inner-city Phoenix, describing how she gets her students—kids who have faced serious life challenges—to not just meet her expectations, but exceed them.

Carla:

They had to say, "Thank you, Mr. Garcia. Thank you, Miss So-and-So," so that we don't say those awful B-words that they like to call each other. We don't do that in my classroom. If any adult walks in the room, I expect the nearest child to that adult to get up, offer them a seat, and then offer to tell them what it is we're doing in the class at that moment in time, so they don't interrupt the whole class. All those things. I want respect. The gentlemen have to let the ladies in the classroom first. I'm teaching respect and manners and self-respect for self—all that stuff while we're teaching the lessons. That's how I roll.

McKinlay:

Most of us can probably think of someone—a leader, a teacher, a coach—who was really strict with us, and we loved it, because somehow their high expectations felt motivating and rewarding. But then we can also probably think of a person that was really strict who we did not enjoy. And it was something about their rules that annoyed us and caused us to resist the expectations that they had. So what makes the difference? Because feeling like you have to choose between connecting with your team or holding them accountable is a real struggle many leaders wrestle with. How do I build real connection with the people I also have to hold accountable?

Welcome to Leading Outward, the Arbinger Institute's podcast, where we explore the tools and ideas we've used for over 45 years to help people solve their toughest leadership and organizational challenges by leading with an outward mindset—seeing people as people. I'm McKinlay.

Carla:

I'm working with inner-city youth here who are troubled, and I've been there, done that. I had a horrendous growing up. We were very poor. My mom was a prostitute. My dad was an alcoholic. I tell these stories in the classroom to my kids when it's time and when it's appropriate for them to hear them. And I can tell immediately when they start seeing me different. "Oh my god, she's not that Mrs. Daw. She's our Mrs. Daw. She gets it. She's been there. She can relate." I just tell them who I am.

McKinlay (reflection):

That phrase—"I just tell them who I am"—is what makes Carla's approach work. Her students embrace her expectations because of the connection they feel with her. Carla has a degree of willingness to share with her students who she is. She doesn't just acknowledge the challenges that they're experiencing, but she willingly shares with them the challenges that she's faced. So they get a chance to know her not only as their teacher, but as a person—as Carla, as someone who experienced a lot of the same things that they do.

Carla:

I have teachers I work with on a day-to-day basis, and the children don't even know that these teachers have children. I find that astonishing. We don't open up and say who we are. We're afraid to talk about who we really are as human beings, for some reason. And then you—oh my god, he's not so perfect. He's just like me. I felt that. I've been there. I've done this. And all of a sudden, the perfect goes away. The real comes out. And then you start listening to people.

McKinlay (reflection):

Carla's experience leading a classroom illustrates something that can seem really counterintuitive. Many of us think that there needs to be distance between me and those I lead—how can I lead them if there's not? But what we see in Carla is that her ability to lead comes from having both connection and high expectations.

But it can feel like you have to choose. Like you can either connect with your team or have accountability, but not both. We want the connection that builds trust and the accountability that drives results.

Naomi Franchetti:

I was in the Air Force for 26 years, and I was an ICBM missile maintenance, nuclear weapons, munitions officer.

McKinlay:

This is Naomi Franchetti, a U.S. Air Force commander who had to learn to create connection in a culture driven by extremely high expectations.

Naomi:

When you think of your past experiences shaping who you are as a person, and who I was as an officer in the military—you're dealing with nuclear weapons. You're dealing with ICBMs. It takes a lot of risk to go outside the norm, to do something different, because we're used to hearing things like, "Don't do anything dumb, dangerous, or different. We just got to get the job done. And you're going to do it my way." And that really shapes who you are as a leader.

McKinlay:

What was it like trying to lead in that environment?

Naomi:

It was challenging because I was different. There weren't a lot of female perspectives in missile maintenance. In fact, when I was at the Pentagon, we did the analysis, and I want to say at the time, 6% females. That's it. And so what the community prized, what they valued—especially when I was a young lieutenant—is people that just talk the loudest, or people that portray themselves as knowing it all. And that, to me, isn't my default, if you will. I much more like to listen, have more empathy. And so I really felt that through my time in the military.

I guess I just got more and more authentically me. And I retired as the 644th Munitions Squadron commander. I was my most authentic self when I was in that role.

McKinlay:

Why is that?

Naomi:

Less interpersonal risk. Because I knew I could retire, so I could be myself without repercussion of not getting promoted, or whatever. I don't have to worry about that anymore. And so I think that also played a major role in me being authentic.

McKinlay:

Did you feel like, "Oh, this was good that I waited until now to be more authentic"? Or did you feel like, "I could have been doing this sooner"?

Naomi:

Probably a little bit of both.

McKinlay (reflection):

When Naomi shared that she felt most authentic in her final command because she knew she could retire, I actually found myself feeling a bit discouraged and thinking, "Don't tell me that we have to wait until the end of our career to feel safe enough to connect with the people we lead." That's why I asked if she felt like she could have been more authentic earlier on—honestly, in the hopes that she'd say, "Yes, and I regret not doing it sooner."

But what Naomi's story reveals is far more complicated. Her experience sheds light on the very real and inherent risk in connecting, especially in environments where accountability is everything. And when you're under pressure to deliver results, it's easy to believe that real connection is a luxury that you cannot afford. But when accountability isn't grounded in connection, the results often suffer.

Naomi:

My first command was more about survival than thriving. I was 32 weeks pregnant when I took command. And so I thought, "Oh, great. I've got eight weeks to just really get in there, get into the organization, see what's going on, see what needs to be changed."

But I was greatly surprised when, at 34 weeks—so only two weeks later—I wasn't feeling well. My doctor said, "Hey, come in and get checked out to make sure everything's okay." And as soon as they had strapped me up into the triage room, my water broke. And they said, "I guess you're having your baby today." And I completely lost it. I was ill-prepared at that point to be having a baby. I'm like, "Oh my god, I wasn't even through all my classes yet."

I ended up having my baby that day. And when she came out, she wasn't breathing. They're working on her. They got her breathing, and she spent three weeks in the NICU.

When you talk about hard things that happen, that was one of them. My husband and I had a lot of infertility struggles. It took years to come to this point, and now we're in the NICU. Gosh, that was hard. It was really difficult.

We made it out of the NICU. But one of the things that also happened when I was on maternity leave—our organization had a suicide. And I had to make the decision: am I going to come off maternity leave, after everything that had happened with my daughter, and work with the organization, you know, to go to work through this? Or am I going to stay on my maternity leave and continue to be with my daughter that just got out of the NICU?

McKinlay (reflection):

Imagine that. Naomi became a commander for the very first time right before she became a mom. And now she's dealing with crises on both fronts. She almost lost her daughter, and she did lose a member of her organization. And now she has people that expect things from her, both professionally and personally.

Naomi:

So the decision I made was to stay with my daughter. And my commander, he called me. He said, "Are you going to come back off your maternity leave to deal with this?" And I said, "Well, sir, the organization has the ops officer. The organization has the chief and the first sergeant. But my daughter only has myself and my husband—who's also active duty at the time. And I think I need to be with my daughter."

When I did come back from maternity leave, my commander said, "I just want you to know that everybody is talking about the fact that you didn't come back and deal with the suicide that happened in your organization. And I just want you to know that it's out there." Woo. It was hard. It was really hard to hear that.

What it ended up doing for me was feeling like I was at risk a lot. I was at risk that I wasn't a good commander because I didn't put my organization first over my family. You know, "service before self," right? Like, I should be doing these things. But in reality, I wouldn't have changed that decision for anything. But I will say, then it made it really difficult—especially dealing with that commander and the other individuals on base, knowing that they were talking about the decision I made and they wouldn't have made the same choice. I still feel it inside when I talk about that. So it was tough.

McKinlay (reflection):

At this point in Naomi's story, I'm thinking back to what she said earlier—that she felt most authentic in her last command because she knew she could retire. And after hearing this experience, that makes perfect sense. Of course, she felt trepidation throughout her career to connect with people when this was her experience. But what's so powerful about Naomi's leadership is what happened when she returned to work.

Naomi:

When I actually came back to work, the first sergeant said, "Hey, you need to tell everybody what you're going through." And I'm like, "Oh man, that's a lot. That's a lot to be vulnerable in front of hundreds of people and tell them the challenges I just went through, when I don't even know that I'm okay yet, right?" And so he convinced me, and I'm glad he did.

We had commander's call. And once I shared that, though, man—you talk about creating a safe space for others to open up. I had so many airmen come to me and say, "Thank you for sharing. I want to tell you about something that I'm going through now."

And so to me, showing that vulnerability, creating a safe space for others to share, doing the hard first step, sharing when you're not at your best—or when you've gone through an emotional struggle or physical struggle, whatever—I think that's what impacted my leadership the most. And it wasn't the intention at the time, honestly. It was just to share that, "Hey, this is why I didn't come back to deal with that." But in the end, it actually strengthened us as an organization and as a team. That's part of the reason why I was who I was, and how I continued to really focus on people.

McKinlay (reflection):

Honestly, Naomi's experience highlights a reality that is present for all of us. There will always be some degree of risk in connecting with the people around us. And the degree of risk will vary based on a variety of factors. But it is true that you can never be free of risk.

So if this is all true, why would I choose to make connections at all? Why would I choose to trust the people around me when there is no guarantee it will turn out well? Naomi gave us the reason why. She said, "In the end, it actually strengthened us as an organization and as a team."

And the research backs this up. A study by Korn Ferry found that 50% of CEOs report feeling lonely, and 60% of those leaders believe that loneliness negatively impacts their performance. And it's not just CEOs. Gallup has found that employees who have meaningful connections at work are nearly 70% more engaged.

And studies like this resonate with me, because this is me. I fall hard onto the connection side of leadership, because connecting with people is enjoyable, and it's comfortable for me. So when I hear that connection drives engagement and performance, I think, "Exactly. This is why I lead the way I do."

And for a long time, I believed that was all I needed to be a good leader. But turns out, that is not the case. Because despite the connection I had with my team, I was still confronted with people who missed deadlines and didn't follow through on commitments, whose work was not to the standard they were capable of—all of which negatively impacted our team, the production, and the company. And instead of addressing it, I'd make excuses for them. "I know they have a ton going on at home." Or, "They're still wrapping their heads around this whole project." Or I'd make excuses for myself. "I should not have to address this with them. They're adults." Or, "This is what having a job means—that you get your stuff done."

I remember one production in particular where we were behind schedule. People weren't executing in the way that we needed, which was having a domino effect on all the other aspects of the production. And instead of stepping in to have the needed conversations and clarify expectations, I just kept hoping that things would work themselves out. But, unsurprisingly, they did not. And one day, it dawned on me that the cost of me not having these needed conversations was that the production would fail.

And suddenly recognizing that the end objective—the end result—was in jeopardy because of my action, or really my lack of action, kicked me into gear. Because I knew I could do something to help this situation. I already had sensed that I needed to have these conversations, but I had avoided having them because I kept thinking, "If I have these conversations, I'm going to lose the relationship, the connection, that I do have with these people."

But that was a delusion. Because avoiding those conversations wasn't protecting anything. Not the people, not the project. It was totally corroding the trust that did exist, and our ability to reach our end goal, our objective.

And when I finally had these conversations, there was relief on both sides—because we finally had clarity. Clear expectations, clear ownership, clear understanding of what needed to happen next. And what surprised me most is that the connection I was so afraid of losing actually got stronger, because our alignment eliminated our frustrations toward each other. Things still needed to change, and deadlines still needed to be hit. But now we were talking about that openly instead of operating in silence.

When I was focused only on connection, I thought I was protecting the relationship I had with my team. But really, I was setting up individuals and our team to fail. And when I finally had the courage to require excellence and accountability, the relationships with those people deepened.

So if you're someone who leans heavily into connection, like me, those hard conversations might feel like a threat to your relationships. But they're not. They're what make those relationships real. And if you're someone who's great at setting expectations but hesitant to connect, remember that the accountability you're working to develop will only stick if your people know that you're on their side.

Now, back to the question we asked at the top of the show: how do I build real connection with the people I also have to hold accountable?

We know that real connection has risk involved in it. Naomi's career in the Air Force helped us see this.

Naomi:

I was my most authentic self when I was in that role, because I knew I could retire so I could be myself without repercussion.

McKinlay:

And Carla's career in the corporate world, well before she was a teacher, helped us see this as well.

Carla:

The people I worked with for 20 years didn't know who I was. They had a clue. They had no idea who I was. But I thought, I have to tell them.

McKinlay (reflection):

It's human to guard ourselves. It's how we protect against disappointment, rejection, betrayal. But Carla and Naomi discovered something surprising. When they stopped working so hard to shield themselves from potential—and very real—harm, they found meaning and productivity they didn't know was waiting to be tapped. And they stunned me in return by sharing who they really were.

Carla:

All of us had stuff. We weren't human doings. We were actually human beings, with heart, with feelings and pain. And you just can't help but see people differently. You couldn't pick up the phone Monday and go at somebody that you knew had personal issues, was suffering at home with different kinds of things, without even saying to them, "Well, how's it going at home? What's going on? Okay, let's make this deal happen. Let's do this and move on." And that's exactly how fast things changed for all of us.

McKinlay:

It turns out we can't choose between connection and accountability. We either have both of them, or neither of them. That's the challenge—and the opportunity—for us as leaders, and just as humans. And the gift of getting to hear other people's experiences is that we get to extract the wisdom from them now. And the wisdom we learn from Naomi and Carla is to skip the 20-year wait. Take action now.

And if you're anything like me, you've had a person or a situation—or maybe even a couple—come to mind as you've been listening along, with a sense of something to do. So the invitation is to take that action. Follow through on your sense, because it's that constant series of action that creates relationships full of connection and accountability.

Leading Outward is produced by the Arbinger Institute. To have a conversation about how we can equip you to transform your leaders and organization, schedule a complimentary strategy session at arbinger.com.

And whatever came to mind for you while you were listening—a conversation you've been putting off, or feedback that needs to be shared, an action you need to take—don't wait. Take that action. Because that's how change starts.