"The schedule doesn't work. We're going to miss half the sessions because of a competing training commitment, and I'm not confident we'll get the full benefit of the instruction. What kind of program is this?!?!"

That email landed in my inbox earlier this fall.

On Wednesday, I was drawing for a room of Navy nuclear engineers working through funding, hiring, workflows, and core values on some very specialized programs.

It's hard work, and there's a lot riding on getting it right.

So you'd figure that the above email came out of that room.

Nope.

It came from a parent in pre-K soccer. (And yes, I cleaned it up a little.)

Their child does gymnastics year-round, so they miss about half of their practices. The parent was worried that their child wouldn't learn all the skills.

That's a parent who wants their kid to get the most out of something. To this parent, this mattered as much as anything in my Wednesday Navy room.

I volunteer as a division coordinator for the biggest rec soccer league in Maryland. That's helping coordinate with 260 kids and 40 coaches, plus four or five hours on the field every Saturday. Over a season, I hear from around 100-150 parents and 20+ coaches, a lot of them people I never meet in person.

Wednesday and Saturday

Funny how some of the same concerns show up in both places, regardless of the topic or focus.

Sometimes it's about security clearances and sometimes it's about shin guards. But the people in both rooms (and so many more rooms) want the same thing: the best outcome.

They want to know what's going on, they want it to get better, and they want to know that the person running or overseeing things has heard them and understands them.

When we remember that, it's easier to know what to say. And maybe even handle both of these the same way.

To the nuclear engineers, it might sound like this:

And to the parent of the future gymnast:

Read back-to-back and they practically sound like the same answer.

When we start from the idea that the person on the other end of the line wants the best outcome, most of the replies write itself.

(Btw, my initial reaction often is determined by my situation. When I'm hungry, stressed, or tired, every one of these emails reads like a massive complaint. That one's on me. And Megan is good at reminding me of this.)

How about this - the next time "what kind of program is this?!?!" lands in the old inbox, from a boardroom or a sideline (or somewhere else),we can all try to answer it like it came from someone who wants the best outcome.

Because that's almost always who sent it.

Oh, and maybe grab a quick snack or nap before writing your response. I will, too.

Grateful you are here,

Wade

P.S. The Draw for Hope store is going away later this month. If there's something you've had your eye on, now's the time to grab it at drawforhope.com.

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