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October 2001 - Celebrating Employee Heroism - Before the Fact
- Celebrating Employee Heroism
- Resources (Books, Links)
By Kenny Moore
I believe the employees who acted heroically on September 11th were
that way before the tragic events occurred. While much recognition
is being given to them afterwards, I believe it's possible to celebrate
these brave souls in advance of their courage. This entails a type
of prolepsis - the recognizing of employee greatness in the present
moment, even though it won't appear until sometime in the future,
perhaps even called into play by the forces of destiny. In some regards
this entails making a faith statement on behalf of our employees.
For the past year I've had a chance to experiment with such a concept in
a corporate setting. And it all began with Mr. Hatch.
The Story
of Mr. Hatch
I met him in Eileen Spinelli's book, Somebody Loves You, Mr. Hatch.
It's a children's book about an isolated working man, who lives, works
and sleeps alone. Neighbors say, "Mr. Hatch likes to keep to
himself." One Saturday, while cleaning his porch, the postman
delivers a heart-shaped box of candy - with an anonymous note signed
"Somebody loves you." Mr. Hatch is confused because he
interacts with no one. He finally concludes: "Why, I've got a
secret admirer." Mr. Hatch begins to change, dressing up and
walking the streets of town, greeting and helping strangers - all with
the hope of meeting the person who sent him the candy. Children
are drawn to him. He bakes brownies, serves lemonade and plays an
old harmonica that he's had from his boyhood. Everyone
dances. Time passes. Mr. Hatch is having so much fun, he's
even forgotten about finding his secret admirer.
Then, the postman returns informing Mr. Hatch that he delivered the
candy to the wrong address and takes back the now-empty box. The
"Somebody loves you" note falls out in the transfer, reminding
Mr. Hatch that he was correct at the outset: nobody really does love
him. He withdraws back into his isolation. But the kids
won't have it. The neighborhood revolts: "We can't let this
happen to Mr. Hatch" ... and they don't. Their response is
truly prodigal. My seven-year-old son made me promise not to tell
how it all ends, so go read the book. But the story left me
thinking. What would happen if Mr. Hatch showed up in corporate
America? What havoc might be wrought by small gifts, anonymously
given to an ordinary worker - possibly even the wrong person?
Perhaps someone who was destined to rise to the occasion … but the
"occasion" just wasn't' here yet. How might our
corporate neighbors respond? I decided to find out.
A Program
is Designed
My plan was to anonymously send a $40 floral arrangement to two
unsuspecting employees every Monday morning - a Mr. Hatch Award.
They would be subjectively chosen, perhaps based on their commitment to
the corporate common good. Other times, because they seemed to
demonstrated potential. On other occasions, merely because destiny
just happened to place them in the right place at the right time.
Attached to the flowers would be a note: "Don't ever think your
good efforts go unnoticed." Signed: "From someone who
cares." The business world has taught me to always do a
"pilot" before you jump into full implementation. I also
learned that it's better to ask forgiveness than permission - so I kept
the idea to myself and got no formal approval. For my trial run, I
picked one employee from the opposite side of my floor, as well as my
Senior Vice President. While I personally hate anyone in
authority, I notice that no one ever says "thank you" to
executives. Granted, they do make mistakes. But they also do
some good things - for which they seldom get credit. Besides, my
therapist would be proud to hear me even consider doing something
positive for someone in authority. So the S.V.P. got flowers too.
On Monday morning I walked down to the florist who handles our
corporate account and asked what I could get for $40. She showed
me a small bowl with five petite flowers in it. (Their overhead
must be high.) I told her I wanted to send two arrangements and to
insure anonymity, I would pay cash, not sign my name or leave my phone
number. The florist was extremely uncomfortable with this. I
wasn't feeling too happy about the transaction either. Maybe this
is how all pilot projects feel? By that afternoon, the flowers
arrived; I said nothing to nobody. On Tuesday I made it a point to
pass by the woman's desk who worked on my floor. I said:
"Hey, nice flowers. Is it your birthday?" "No"
she said. "Somebody sent them to me. Look. Here's
the note." By this time, all her co-workers were crowded
around, telling me the layout of events. They also knew that an
executive got the same flowers delivered. One of them even called
the florist to find out who sent it. Nobody seemed to know.
They all continued to speak in utter giddiness about the strangeness of
the delivery and what made this woman so special. They also spent
considerable time trying to figure out what she had in common with the
executive, and who might have sent them both the flowers. Even as
I left, they continued on in frenzied conversation and merriment.
A few days later I had a project-update meeting with my Senior Vice
President. I planned to both tell him about my "pilot"
as well as get his reaction as a recipient. Before I even got to
my part of the conversation, he said: "You know, Kenny, last week
some employee sent me a bunch of flowers, thanking me for something I
did. I'm not even sure who it was, or what I did. But it got
me thinking. I only have a few more years before I retire and I think
I'd like to use that time focusing on individual employees: their needs
and concerns. I know it's impractical - we've got 13,000 of
them. But I'd like to give it a try." Gulp! Now I
felt both entrapped and embarrassed. How could I tell him that I
sent the flowers ... or that he was only part of a program I was testing
out? He had arrived upon a worthwhile executive goal that I wasn't
going to knock off track. I kept my mouth shut, gave my project
update and exited as fast as I could.
Pilot
Review and Implementation
These two conversations made me want to continue my plans with Mr.
Hatch. Even though the company knew nothing about the program, I
believed they would support it. If I can give an employee a $5,000
on-the-spot award for customer excellence, $40 is not going to break the
bank. The pilot even taught me a few lessons: 1 - run the program
on my own and forget about formal corporate support; 2 - keep the
anonymity of the program intact; 3 - ditch the corporate florist.
The next Monday I moved into full implementation. I chose two more
workers ... but didn't go to the swanky florist. I walked a few
blocks North into the combat zone of downtown Brooklyn and found an
all-purpose store. The "proprietor" sells a lot of
things, including flowers. I said to him: "Here's my offer.
Every week I want you to deliver two floral arrangements to my
headquarters. I also want a "thank you" balloon attached
- along with a note that I'll give you. You put the note in an
envelope and deliver it all." "OK with me" he
says. "I'll pay cash. You don't contact me; I only
contact you. I'll show up every Monday with the names, notes and
money." Unlike the corporate florist, he had no problem with
this arrangement. Apparently, he does a lot of his business this
way. "One final question" I said. "What kind of
flowers do I get for my $40?" "Give me a minute"
and he disappeared. What he brought back was a massive array of
floral specimens: birds of paradise; tulips; roses; babies'
breathe. I think I got half of his storefront display.
"Looks fine to me. Do a good job and I'll keep coming back every
week."
The Results
It's a year later and I'm still sending flowers, anonymous notes and
balloons. My company still knows nothing about it. So, have
I changed our corporate culture? No. Am I able to single out
extraordinary employees when they are apparently acting ordinary?
Hell, no. But here's what has happened:
- I actually look forward to coming to work on Monday morning.
- A small number of employees go home Monday night with a smile or
quizzical look on their faces.
- Co-workers are having a blast trying to figure out who's sending
flowers to their friends, what for, and how come. I suspect a few
even dream of receiving flowers and a balloon for themselves.
- One aging executive is making retirement preparations by meeting
individually with employees. While this is the least
verifiable part of the program, I trust that the S.V.P. is making
the effort. ( Did I actually say that I "trust" someone in
authority? Who knows, maybe Mr. Hatch is getting to me ….)
- I've got a "proprietor" in downtown Brooklyn who smiles
when he sees me coming ... and warmly shakes my hand. I also
have the feeling that the storefront area is a bit more
"revitalized" that it was a year ago ... but I could be
mistaken. I'm often faulted for being out of touch with what's
really going on.
- We had a host of ordinary employees respond extraordinarily to the
tragedies of September 11th.
And that's the present state of progress with the Mr. Hatch
Award. I'll probably keep it up until I read another kid's book
that leaves me feeling hopeful and alive. Then I'll experiment
with another idea. Maybe something based on "The Velveteen
Rabbit" or "Ira Sleeps Over."
I'm sure some well-meaning executive will read this article and try
to formulate a corporate "Mr. Hatch Award." Forget about
it! Not everything needs to be mandated into business
policy. Some things work just fine when they're small and
personal. There's organizational strength in fermenting a mixture
of the institutional along with the idiosyncratic. Executives
would be better served by encouraging staff to "hatch" their
own ways of nurturing unsung heroes … in advance of the fact.
Oh ... one more thing. While I was finishing this article, I
passed the woman who received the first Mr. Hatch Award when it was a
pilot. She had fresh flowers on her desk. "Is it your
birthday?" "No" she said. "Somebody
still sending you anonymous flowers?" I whispered.
"Nope, not this time. They're from my boss," she
said. "I got promoted and she sent them as a
present." "Sounds like you have a growing list of
admirers..." I said, and walked away feeling a little renewed.
At the end of the day, I feel I'm doing my part in helping my company
sing the praises of our heroic employees … even though we might have
to wait for destiny to reveal exactly who they are. Mr. Hatch
rewards employees not for what they do, but for who they are. As I
reflect back upon the events that happened here in New York City with
our employees, maybe Mr. Hatch saw them as heroic in advance of the
tragedy. Possibly, one of our employees who responded bravely on
September 11th did so because she'd recently received a bouquet of
flowers from someone who secretly saw her deeper gifts and valor.
Mr. Hatch is a faith statement in favor of the greatness of our
employees - in advance of them actually demonstrating it … and
possibly even preparing and encouraging them to demonstrate it when
destiny chose its time to arrive?
It causes me to ponder how an ordinary day on the job can become so
extraordinary.
About the Author
Kenny says, "If you’re thinking
about writing me, give in to the temptation. I love getting mail ... and
being influenced by what you have to say. Please E-mail me at kennythemonk [at]
yahoo.com."
Kenny Moore is
co-author of “The
CEO and the Monk: One Company’s Journey to Profit and Purpose”
(John Wiley and Sons, 2004), rated as one of the Top Ten best-selling business
books on Amazon.com. He has over 20 years experience with change
management, leadership development and healing the corporate community.
Prior to his work in corporate America, Kenny spent 15 years in a monastic
community as a Catholic priest – doing a very similar kind of work, but
getting paid a lot less.
Kenny has been profiled on CBS Sunday Morning News, and interviewed by Tom
Peters, The Wall Street Journal and Fast Company magazine regarding his unique
leadership style. He can be reached at (973) 956-8210 or kennythemonk [at] yahoo.com
Copyright
(c) Kenneth Moore 2001, used with permission of the author.
Thanks, Kenny!!
Books
- Disclosure: We get a small
commission for purchases made via links to Amazon.
- Radical Acts of Love: How Compassion is Transforming Our World.
Susan Skog, 2001. Hazelden Information Education. ISBN: 156838730X
- Somebody Loves You, Mr. Hatch. Eileen Spinelli, 1996 Aladdin
Paperbacks. ISBN: 0689718721
- Random Acts of Kindness by Conari Press
(Editor), 1993. Conari Press. ISBN: 0943233437
- Random Kindness & Senseless Acts of Beauty. Anne
Herbert. Volcano Press; ISBN: 0912078898
- Search Amazon.com
or Barnes & Noble
for "Random Acts of Kindness" for many more.
Page updated: October 16, 2023
This page is http://www.itstime.com/oct2001.htm
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