Transformational Leadership, Term Paper Example

The world of construction is no place for the soft-hearted.  It’s been my experience that nice people do come in last when you’re dealing with project bids and delivery deadlines.  As the owner of my own construction company, I learned to never suffer fools gladly, never let my guard down, and never, evershow a hint of weakness.

But that was then, and this is now.

I am a different person than I was a year ago.  The man who once took pleasure in making his secretary cry because she’d lost the phone number of a potential client is gone, a victim of the economic downturn that saw his small empire die a painful death.  I used to be a hard-as-nails boss who didn’t bother to say good morning to his employees at the beginning of the day, nor good night to them when their hard work was done.  There wasn’t time for such niceties; I had a business to run, after all.I had neglected to see my employees as people with lives of their own.  They existed merely to help me carve out my own big piece of the pie that is the American dream.

The night I closed my business down for good, I was transformed from successful businessman on the verge of making it big to just another unemployed business owner behind on his mortgage.  My dream was over and, in retrospect, I’m glad.

I’ve had many mentors throughout my life, including my father, uncles, and aunts and who taught me to value physical labor and entrepreneurship.  My first boss, John Behrendt, a tough man who could yell at you at the top of his lungs one minute and send you on a family vacation the next spoke volumes when it came to leading by example.  John owned a Sound/Audio Visual company, and mutual friends would tease him behind his back for being a psychopath.  He was a pure example of tough love and leading by example.  His priorities didn’t include counting nickels and dimes but rather pleasing his employees and friends.  I don’t think any mentor has taught me more about life and what it means to be a transformational mentor than John. When I ran into him at a wedding and learned that he was dying, my heart sank.  My reply was that we are all dying, but what are we going to do about it between now and then.It was through our conversation that I realized I was entering the Fundamental State of Leadership and needed to help guide him through his journey.

The line between poor and not-poor is as thin as a missed paycheck for many people, and as sharp as a knife to the gut.  My family and I were never in any major danger of ending up destitute, but on that first night of unemployment, driving away from my office for the last time, I began to have an idea of the damage I’d done to my employees, time and time again.  On how many occasions had I threatened to fire people for minor mistakes?  And how many times had I actually followed through on those threats?  A great many times, I’m afraid, because I was a man who didn’t believe in second chances or excuses.

But as fate had it, I was a lucky man.  I got a second chance.  Not just employment-wise, though that happened, too, but with my family.  The job that matters the most.

While running my own business, I kept madman’s hours–sixty, eighty hours a week, every week.  I have four sons, but they barely knew me, and what they did know of me, they didn’t like very much.  I was the the disciplinarian, the man whose actions stated do what I say, not what I do.  My lifestyle and my leadership taught them that their goals could only be achieved through intimidation and fear.

For a brief, life-changing six months, I became a stay-at-home dad and embarked on a journey that changed my outlook on work, life, and parenthood forever.  After an initial period of anger and reluctance, I realized that I had two choices:  stay miserable and make my family miserable or relax and roll with what life had offered me.  Fortunately, I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and enjoy getting to know my sons again.  We became mentors to each other–the boys taught me the joys of playing sports and I taught them that a father should be kind and honest.  Like Reuben Warshawsky in Norma Rae, I met a great deal of resistance from the outside world:  other parents thought I was strange and abrasive, my old construction buddies thought I’d gone soft.  But the boys were my four Norma Raes–we joined together, a united front, working towards our common goal of making it through each day in one piece.

I’m back to work again as the Director of Construction for a family of Transportation companies, and I’m proud to say that my experience with my sons has transformed my approach to the business world beyond my wildest expectations.  I no longer see rudeness as a virtue, nor do I enjoy making other human beings feel small.  My competitive drive has been replaced instead with the desire to make my own small portion of the world a happier place.  I’m not the toughest boss on the job site anymore, and I’m grateful for that.  Instead, I say hello and goodnight to my coworkers.  I ask about their kids and talk about my own.  I allow happiness and hard work to intersect, and my life has been made that much richer for it.  I have become the kind of man my transformational mentor taught me to be, so long ago, and someday, perhaps, my sons will be able to say the same thing.