Last week I posted a TikTok that’s special to me. It’s not my most viewed. It probably never will be. But it does share something that’s been sitting on my mind ever since – a memory of the first time I had to brief a Major General as a young Marine officer.
Today I want to share that memory with you. But first, watch the clip here:
You see, that day when I had to meet and brief the Commanding General of 2nd Marine Division, I was as green as can be. I was 22 years old. I was fresh out of the school house and brand new to my Military Occupational Specialty (MOS). More than that, I was for all intents and purposes alone in the task – because the others on site for that briefing didn’t know me or how to help me prepare. We were simply showing up, just about as authentically as you can I guess.
And for all those reasons – his seniority, my inexperience, and my lack of overall unit awareness – General Tryon should have written me off, dismissed me and come back later – when he could meet with a more established command team. But that’s not what he did.
I can still remember sitting in the Battalion headquarters command briefing room. Over the next several years, I’d spend a LOT of time in that room delivering updates on the work of our unit. But I didn’t know what to do on that day. I had only a vague understanding of what some other battalions had presented because I called around the Lieutenant underground and got some intel. But really, that was all I had.
And I was admittedly nervous.
What I didn’t share in the TikTok is just how General Tryon responded to the situation. And he had a lot of options. First and foremost, he could have just turned around and walked out, deciding to spend his time more fruitfully. Or, he could have spent the time unengaged, run out the clock and gotten out of there without hassle. He could have talked down to me or embarrassed me. But like any good leader of Marines, he took a different path.
When he walked in the door, and after the standard pleasantries, he addressed the sizable elephant in the room. He pointed out he knew I was in a unique position to be briefing him. He asked me about my time on deck so far. He asked me what I had learned in the first few days on the job. And he asked me if his staff could help me get up and running any faster.
I was stunned. It was certainly not what I expected to happen. If I’m being honest, I was probably hoping he’d just choose one of the other options and move along quickly. But instead, he gave me an incredible insight into a leadership style so many of us are still trying to learn. He demonstrated humility in his actions and he showed through those actions that there were two sides to his approach to leadership: respect and expect.
It would have been far more convenient for him, and far less impactful for me as a young leader for him to bounce. Instead, he chose to mentor me a little bit in the room.
The questions he asked showed me that he wasn’t judging me by my Marine experience in the moment, but by my judgment as a fellow officer. He wasn’t interested in embarrassing me, but rather finding a way to support me and the unit under his command. His lack of pride in the moment helped me feel a little more pride in myself. And when he left, he charged me with a little more. He told me to get ready because he wanted to see me again at the next command briefing.
Respect and expect. That day I learned that in many ways those are two sides of the same coin. They drive how we relate to others in all kinds of situations. Do we lead with a sense of respect and common ground, or do we let our pride take the reins? Do we let people off the hook for whatever convenient excuse may be in front of us, or do we meet them where they are and adjust their (and our) goals accordingly?
General Tryon will likely never remember the meeting we had. I was just some young, dumb lieutenant trying to figure it out. But he didn’t let me off the hook. He set an expectation for me to perform so I’d be in the room again. He met me where I was and respected my experience as a person, not just as a Marine. And he freely gave away his most precious, non-renewable resource – his time.
He inspired me. What a gift.
I’m not sure if you’ve ever had an experience that mirrors what General Tryon did for me. But I think it’s important that we keep track of these moments, small and large alike and think about them from time to time. So I’m going to ask something special of you right now. Will you consider leaving a comment and telling me your own exceptional encounter with a leadership lesson? If you don’t want to leave it publicly, you can email me: luke@partofthepossible.com or message me on Instagram: @luke_crumley.
I’d love to read a few of these. They’ll stay as private as you want them. But I hope you’ll take me up on it because I think you’ll find some real value in the exercise. Oh, and if you WERE the leader who had a moment like this with a subordinate, you’re not off the hook. I want to hear yours too!
Thank you in advance for chiming in. Cheers and Semper Fidelis!
Part of the Possible 