High Ten. Martin Rooney
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Sam was stunned. Because of her show of emotion, he didn't know how to respond. Lucky for him, Dana wasn't finished talking.
“When I came to Stamina, I was quiet. But my work here brought me out of my shell. A few days ago, at a meeting, Rick belittled me in front of everyone. I know you're good friends, and Rick's okay as a person. I'm upset because he and a number of people here don't take Stamina seriously. People just don't care. And there's always arguments because we're all on different pages.”
“What do you mean?” asked Sam.
“Well, for one, Rick and his sales team sell features we don't have. They'll tell a customer anything to get a deal, and I'm left looking bad when I can't support something we don't offer. And his team doesn't respect the office. I keep cleaning up the conference room and that's not my job,” answered Dana. “When I tell the engineers the new ideas customers want, they blow me off saying, ‘That's impossible' or ‘You don't understand.' And when our remote staff conferences in, most don't turn on their cameras. It's depressing that nobody seems excited about Stamina.”
“I'm glad you're sharing this,” said Sam, trying to utilize techniques from a leadership class. “And I'm sorry you feel this way.”
That sentence didn't work how Sam intended.
“The final thing's the extra work you give me, Sam. I've made myself accessible at all times. When you fire out ideas to the group, I feel pressured to respond. It's too much. When I came on board, everyone was excited about ‘Powering the people who power businesses.' But that feeling's gone. I wanted to share my feelings, and I also want to give my 30-day notice. I've grown here, but this isn't the place for me anymore….” Dana finally broke down.
This upset Sam, and like many things lately, he didn't know what to do. Until that moment, Sam hadn't noticed Dana's value or how much she cared. He didn't want her to quit.
“Dana,” Sam began, “I appreciate you talking to me about this. It's not your fault. I agree things've changed, but before you resign, let me try to fix things. You crying isn't a sign of weakness – it shows how much you care. You're valuable to Stamina and I would hate to see you leave.”
Dana composed herself and said, “Thanks for listening. I want to stay, but I'm unsure anything will change. I'm sorry.”
“No, Dana, I'm the one who's sorry. Thanks for caring about Stamina.”
Dana smiled, nodded, and left.
When Sam closed his door, the safety of his office was gone. He couldn't lose Dana after the latest capital raise. The only person he confided in was Rick, but this problem concerned him. Instead of debating whether to call the number on the card, he debated whether 8 a.m. was too early to call a stranger. Sam called.
“Hello, this is Brian Knight,” answered the voice.
“Oh, hey Mr. Knight. This is Sam Raucci … we met at Trackside last week?”
“Yes, of course Sam. And please … call me Brian. Mr. Knight's my father.”
“Yes sir … I mean Brian. Is this an okay time to talk?”
“Sure, I've got time. I thought I'd hear from you. The way you looked the other night, you took longer than I expected.”
“Well,” Sam offered, “I took time thinking about the answer to your question, and I realized I'm unhappy about my dream come true.”
“How so?”
“When we met, I'd just lost a dream deal with the university,” said Sam. “Now I might lose a dream staff member too. And the dream raise for what everyone calls my dream business has me down.”
“I see. You'll learn that deals, money, and people'll come and go. Dealing with them when they happen is the secret,” said Brian.
Sam asked, “I've been wondering, what did you do as a consultant?”
“Well, I'd usually start with finding out everything about a company, and then observe the company in action. Once I knew how a business operated, I'd present my findings and suggestions how to fix what was broken.”
“And the company would fix its problems?” asked Sam.
“Not always,” said Brian. “I'd often set up ongoing consulting to assess progress and give them more action items.”
“Could you help a business like mine?”
“I don't know,” replied Brian with a laugh. “You haven't told me about your business yet!”
Sam spent 10 minutes covering Stamina's history as a sales and training company and its game-based software. Sam described Stamina's three capital raises since growing the business from a “side hustle” to a multimillion-dollar business. He shared about the pressure from his 30 employees, investors, and board of directors. Sam ended with his disconnection from the staff and how the recent holiday party was a disaster.
After Sam finished, Brian said, “Thanks for the information. It takes guts to admit your problems. Be proud of that. Can I give a couple first impressions?”
“Sure.”
“First off, stop worrying about the past. That holiday party is ancient history like the Boston Tea Party. Second, you need to adjust how your company treats its people. Your customer service person's a star and you can't lose her.”
“No, I can't,” Sam confirmed.
“If you want to stop letting the past hold you hostage and improve in the future, then you must work on your greatest competitive advantage in the present,” continued Brian.
“Our tech?”
“No!” answered Brian. “You've already learned your product can be great and your business can still suffer. There are plenty of businesses with plenty of products and startup cash that fail. Your competitive advantage is culture.”
“Like the cultural differences of my staff?” asked Sam.
“Not entirely, but that's part of it. Culture goes beyond your country or ethnic background. Culture's everywhere. Cultures exist in sport teams and in businesses. Culture isn't a corporate buzzword; it's woven into everything your business does and is,” explained Brian. “What I've learned so far is that Stamina's in trouble because you focused more on the architecture of your office than the architecture of your culture.”
“I understand,” said Sam. “There's a different feeling at work now. I wouldn't say negative, but distant. Is that what you mean?”
“That's another part of your culture,” replied Brian. "It's a feeling, but it's also something others experience using your business. And this experience is created by the actions of the people who work there. When the culture's great, people are enthusiastic. With a culture like that, the customer feels it too. So your business is like an orange. When it gets squeezed, culture is the juice that comes out. If you don't like the taste, it's time to change the juice.”
“That makes sense,” said Sam. “But how do I know if I have a culture? It's not something I've covered with my team.”
“You have a culture whether you like it or not. And the biggest mistake is not to design the culture you want. If you don't design Stamina's culture, someone else will. And when culture's treated like an afterthought, trouble follows closely behind. Now that it's caught up with you, it's easy to recognize.”
“Got any quick suggestions?”
“There aren't ‘quick fixes' because developing culture's a long process,” answered Brian. “I have a lesson from my grandfather. He was a boxer. While fighting in a tournament, he won his first three fights, and before the final round of the final, his coach saw he was tired. The coach leaned over the ropes and yelled, ‘This isn't the end of the fight. It's the beginning!”
“I understand.