My mouth was dry, my mind racing: What am I going to say? How am I going to be received? Am I capable? What do they expect? Will they be angry? Of course they’ll be angry. Will they trust me? Of course not . . .
I had been asking myself these questions and answering some of them in my head for days . . . over and over again, in an endless loop of self-doubt.
The time had come: my first meeting with the team I was going to lead was the next day, and I still had no answers.
I sat in my office, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and decided to ask myself different questions, ones I knew the answers to: What do I know? Who am I? What do I have to offer?
Then I told myself something different: Just be the best you that you can be. Be honest about your work experience, what you know, and what you believe. Most importantly, don’t try to change what they’re feeling or thinking. Instead, show genuine interest in understanding their experience and demonstrate respect for their knowledge and expertise.
I had been working at The Council on Recovery (formerly The Council on Alcohol and Drugs Houston) for almost two years, leading a team of counselors providing services to probationary youth. As a result of drastic state funding cuts, eleven of the fourteen counselors were going to be terminated. At about the same time, a second department, one providing other resources and services to this same population, was identified as needing “new leadership.”
Organizational leaders told me, “Although we don’t know the extent of the problems in this department, we are aware that some staff are allowed to ‘do whatever they want’ . . . shopping during the workday, coming in late and leaving early, signing each other in for workshops they never attended, etc.”
In addition, the group was being moved physically, from an office in Southwest Houston to the main office near downtown. This was being done mainly to save money but also because the agency lacked trust in the current departmental leadership. The plan was for the two service areas to merge. I would become director of the newly formed unit, Prevention Resources and Services.
I worried about how this new unit would receive me. In their eyes, the leader this staff had known for several years was being demoted. They would likely be hesitant to trust this organizationally mandated change. Some might even be angry, feeling they weren’t trusted or were being punished for the behavior of coworkers.
I considered that they might acknowledge the inappropriate actions (or inactions) of a few people, but still question the reason for the leadership change. Organizational systems can be like dysfunctional families—you protect your family at all costs, despite internal conflict. Maintaining the status quo often feels safer than change.
Reframing my thinking helped me realize that I really wanted to understand the employees’ experiences and perspectives. I also wanted to explore the best use of my own motivation, feelings, and skills.
I reflected on the principles of Conscious Change I had learned years ago in Jean Latting’s graduate class. I recognized my power and wanted to use it responsibly, with the utmost integrity. I was open to uncovering staff members’ perceptions of me. I also envisioned a team with a learning orientation, one focused on learning, not just performance.
Finally, I settled into an action plan and said to myself, This is where I will start. I will learn about each team member, their skills, interests, and backgrounds. I will learn the history of prevention programming. I will study what is working and what isn’t within the department.
Viewing the situation with this lens helped me become aware of what I didn’t know. As a result, I delved into the history of the department in relation to the agency and reviewed the resumés of departmental leadership and staff to learn each of their strengths.
I also made an intentional choice to try to integrate my whole self into my new role on this team—and into the larger organization. While I had been doing my job for the past two years, I realized I had not really felt like a part of the organization. I viewed it as the place where I worked, not a place in which I fully existed. I had not intentionally considered how my knowledge, values, skills, and life experiences were aligned with the mission of The Council on Recovery.
Since its founding in 1946, The Council on Recovery has been at the forefront of helping individuals and families whose lives have been affected by alcoholism, drug addiction, and co-occurring mental health disorders. The agency’s prevention programs help individuals, families, and communities develop the resources needed to maintain healthy lifestyles.
Through these programs, The Council on Recovery impacts a wide range of at-risk behaviors, including alcohol, tobacco, and other drug abuse; crime and delinquency; violence; vandalism; school failure; school dropouts; teenage pregnancy; mental health problems; depression; and suicide.
When I became Director of the newly formed Prevention Resources and Services Department, it had over twenty employees. Most had bachelor’s degrees in health education, social work, psychology, or sociology. They were divided into five distinct programs and were supervised by managers with varying levels of experience.
Many of the staff and managers had been in their positions for several years and were providing services in more than thirty schools and community centers across a thirteen-county region. The fact that they were meeting, and in some cases exceeding, contractual goals despite top management’s concern about occasional laxity, told me the staff had a connection with their work and with each other. From the outside, the department appeared to be thriving. That could make my job even more difficult.
My decision to bring conscious awareness and choice to my interactions with this new team allayed these concerns. I now felt calm and confident. Anticipating the skepticism and distrust of the staff I would be supervising, I recognized the importance of being my authentic self—it was not just the best option, it was the only option.
I was tempted to try to use the power of my position to impose cooperation and productivity among the staff—after all, I was their boss! But I knew that any positive outcomes realized from an authoritarian approach would be short-lived. I also knew this leadership style was inconsistent with what I had been taught and what I observed in leaders I respected and trusted.
My goals were to build trust through open and honest communication, honor everyone’s emotions, and share how I viewed my role as director. I began by meeting with the former director, whom I call Ella, with the intent to first acknowledge my feelings and thoughts.
If I jumped right into asking Ella about the details of her work, I would miss an opportunity to connect with her. Unacknowledged feelings might also have loomed in our midst, creating distrust and negativity.
When I walked into her office, Ella seemed nervous: “What would you like to know?” she asked.
“There’ll be plenty of time to learn the details of the job from you, but first, I’d like to talk about our working relationship,” I responded. “This situation—my assuming the role of director and supervising you—is uncomfortable for me. Surely such significant changes all at once were a shock for you and many others.”
She smiled, then admitted, “It was a surprise. I’m concerned about how staff members are handling the change. But I will follow your lead.”
I wondered if I would be so gracious if our roles were reversed. “I’m very grateful to you,” I said. After a pause, I added, “I’m going to schedule a meeting with all department staff. But before I do so, I think it would help for you and me to discuss our respective responsibilities and authority.”
We agreed that Ella would continue to manage external relationships with various schools and other organizations while I focused on internal operations, including direct supervision of staff and contract management. It was helpful to have achieved this clarification before the larger staff meeting. I had learned from past mentors and other leaders how important it is to explain roles to staff in advance to avoid confusion or conflict moving forward.
Each step in this process was as intentional as it was important. My strong sense of empathy helped me in this situation, but I was careful not to make assumptions. My actions and words were intended as seeds that could grow into a culture of teamwork, accountability, respect, and trust.
Prior to the departmental staff meeting the next day, I sat down with my manager, given the name Mitch for this story, to review my plan. I trusted his insight. I always learned significantly from his advice and experience.
“My goals for this meeting are to honor the range of emotions people may be experiencing,” I explained, “to express my desire to be of service to them, to ensure they have what they need to do their jobs effectively, and finally, to set expectations and goals for us to achieve collectively.”
“I agree with all those points,” Mitch said with an approving nod. “They show who you are and represent the culture that we, as an agency, want to establish. I also think you should add one more: To establish yourself as their leader.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tell them about your work experience,” he suggested, “what you’ve learned, and what type of leader you strive to be.”
I nodded in agreement. “Good idea. They’ll have more confidence in my ability to lead and may begin to understand why I was asked to serve in this role.”
“Yes,” Mitch agreed. “They need to see that you believe in yourself.”
“You know, I’ve done that before,” I replied after a slight pause. “When I first started working here, I said to the staff in the juvenile probation program, ‘I am not a licensed chemical dependency counselor, but I was not put in this role to teach you how to be a counselor—you already know how to do that and do it well. I’m here because of what I know about building and leading teams.’ They responded well to that approach.”
Before the meeting began, I went to the meeting space to ensure it was comfortable and that there were enough chairs for everyone. As a leader, I wanted to demonstrate genuine hospitality and servanthood from the start. As people began to enter the room, I looked them in the eye, shook hands with them, and introduced myself.
Responses were mixed. Some made eye contact, clearly stated their name, and smiled. Others looked away and spoke softly, almost mumbling. I didn’t take their responses personally because I knew people’s reactions are based on a multitude of factors, including culture, family dynamics, past experiences, and personality. Once everyone was seated, I went to the front and let my eyes scan the room.
“Hello, everyone,” I greeted. “Thank you for coming. I’m sure it’s difficult to arrange coverage for your classes. I’m Mary Beck, the new Director of Prevention Resources and Services. I’m guessing it was a shock to learn that your offices were being moved and that I’d be serving as your new director. I don’t assume to understand all the feelings, questions, and thoughts each of you may have as a result, but I imagine your reactions have ranged from surprise, to fear, to loss, and at times even anger. These are reasonable feelings, and I’m not here to take them away. I also want you to know that I have a lot to learn about the field of prevention and the work you do. You see, I wasn’t put in this position because I’m an expert in the field. All of you are skilled at your jobs. I have other skills, knowledge, and experience to offer.” I went on to share details of each, as Mitch had recommended.
I then continued, “Over the next six months I plan to work with the program managers to set and communicate goals and expectations, not only about how we will provide services, but also about team values and ethics. I haven’t come into this job with a predetermined set of goals and objectives. Some are set by our contracts and others can be set collectively.
“Ella will continue to serve a vital role in the department—establishing and maintaining external relationships with schools, community centers, and other organizational partners. I will assume direct supervision of staff, but she and I will work closely together. In fact, we met yesterday to discuss our roles, and I have the utmost respect for how welcoming she has been.”
Some of the staff shook their heads. One person asked, “I’ve put in a vacation request. Do I need to resubmit the request to you?”
“For the time being, keep giving the vacation requests to Ella,” I responded. “I will get them from her.”
Several more questions followed along those lines. I knew the early questions from a new team are typically simple. I liken it to dipping your big toe in a pool to determine how cold the water is before diving in the deep end. As I answered each question, I made sure to thank them for asking it. In other words, Thank you for engaging with me ... for connecting with me, no matter how briefly. At the end of the meeting, I explained that I would next be meeting with each program manager to learn more about the contracts and services provided.
These “baby steps” turned into building blocks, and then into a living, breathing, organizational system. Looking back, seventeen years later, I recognize that I learned several things and had existing beliefs validated during this transition. Change takes time. It is a process, not an event.
Mistakes are to be expected and learned from. Having a clear vision of where you’re going, staying the course, trusting the process, and staying true to specific change management principles are vital, including over-communication, questioning your own assumptions, and creating buy-in and ownership at all levels of the organization.
Mary H. Beck, LMSW, CAI, is the president and CEO of The Council on Recovery, which serves more than 55,000 people annually in the Greater Houston area. A leader in addiction services for nearly twenty years, Mary is an accomplished and respected executive with a distinctive passion for supporting and uplifting the Houston community and behavioral health field. Before serving as president and CEO, she worked in various roles at The Council, including youth intervention, prevention, program development and evaluation, and clinical operations.
Mary represents the agency on the Board of the Network of Behavioral Health Providers, is a member of the Texas Association of Substance Abuse Programs, and is an American Leadership Forum Senior Fellow. She also is an adjunct faculty member for the Graduate College of Social Work at the University of Houston—the same school from which she received her Master of Social Work in 1998. Prior to joining The Council, Mary served as Director of the Center for Organizational Research and Effectiveness at the University of Houston, providing evaluation and consulting services to nonprofit organizations.
