How a boss feeds the circle of yelling…
My husband and I are the bosses of our kids. That’s how we see it.
We run the household and the little tikes do what we say. They eat what we make for them. They fix their beds. They follow orders.
We’ve stressed this to our kids from a very young age.
When my daughter Circe was about 2 years old, she kept asking me over and over why she couldn’t do something. Over and over and over again. You know, that kid thing kids do. They keep asking in different ways until you reach your breaking point.
So I yelled, “Circe, this is not a democracy. This is a dictatorship.”
To that, she asked, “A potato chip?”
OK, so she didn’t know what the heck I was talking about. But the yelling seemed to be a bit cathartic for me.
Sometimes children and employees push us to the brink, and we blow up like Mount Vesuvius.
But the other night I realized that my yelling is not lost on Circe. I yelled at both my kids about creating a mess in the kitchen right before we were supposed to have dinner. Well, later in the night I heard Circe yelling at her brother Cheiron because he took one of her toys. I told her not to ever yell like that, but I realized I probably started the yelling circle.
Coincidently, the next morning my intern Katherine Guiney told me about this funny clip from the show “How I Met Your Mother”, where one of the characters talks about this very thing, a chain of yelling or screaming that starts with a boss.
Here’s the clip (Sorry about the commercial they force you to watch to view this clip. Turn the volume down until the show starts):
There might be something to the circle/chain of yelling.
I wrote about bad bosses for MSNBC.com a while back and a lot of you out there seem to be in the midst of yellers.
A survey of more than 60,000 people conducted by MSNBC.com and Elle magazine found that 16 percent had bosses they considered bullies, 18 percent said their bosses were rude, 17 percent had managers that were short tempered, and about 7 percent said their bosses yelled frequently.
Many career experts I talk to say workplace bullies and yellers tend to turn up the volume during tough economic times. (And you think we have it bad in the U.S., check out the UK. One study shows bullying there is so bad workers are thinking of moving out of the country.)
I interviewed Stephen R. Covey of “The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People” fame and he had some great advice for people who work with yellers and bullies like me.
Turn the leadership tables on your boss, says Covey. “Take the initiative and think through what … his problems are. What are his concerns? What is he trying to accomplish? Then, when emotions are not high present him with an empowerment model.”
Basically, offer your boss a detailed plan of action where you could pick up certain assignments or functions that will make his or her life easier. You should frame it in a way that you’ll both be looking at how it succeeds. If it does he or she will develop confidence in you and your abilities, Covey says. “As his confidence in you comes up, the bullying will become much less,” he says.
It might be tough to take that first step and approach your boss, but Covey says you need to take the initiative and have courage. “It’s not about the absence of fear but the awareness something else is more important.”
Ok, ok. I get it. I asked my intern if I ever yelled at her? She said, “not like that,” referring to the TV clip.
That was good to hear. Maybe I will tone down the yelling at home as well. But I still plan on running the home like a potato chip.
April 16th, 2008 at 11:17 am
This is why it is important to have positive and thoughtful leaders, not reactive ones. Things tend to flow down from the top and if a simple yelling incident is powerful enough to spark a yelling cycle, then, along the same lines, a simple act of kindness can flow and grow in to miracles…
April 16th, 2008 at 2:33 pm
The circle of yelling could just as easily be interchanged with the circle of “hogging credit” or the circle of “advancement through destructive criticism.” I worked for a boss at a Big 4 accounting firm who felt that criticizing others (primarily not under his control; i.e. his peers) to us was beneficial. And in brainstorming and update meetings he seemed to reward those who would poke holes in others ideas and/or criticize an approach that was taken to solve a problem. Soon, otherwise nice people found themselves trying to denigrate every other person’s ideas and activities.
And now I work for myself. My buiness would really be growing twice as fast if my current boss wasn’t an idiot. (There I go again.)
April 16th, 2008 at 3:16 pm
It’s addictive. I grew up around yellers, swore I’d never be like them, and now find myself also yelling at my child, my husband, etc. I can’t help but wonder if my clients and interns are next. Sadly, the only thing yelling accomplishes is it makes people do just enough…but never more.
Coincidentally, I just returned from a trip back home to see my grandmother. As four generations of working mothers shared stories, my nana said: “The only thing I regret about my life is how much I yelled.” She doesn’t have many regrets, so I’m taking this one seriously.
April 16th, 2008 at 3:44 pm
Bob Z. that is so funny. I do think whatever goes around comes around.
And wow, HB. I can’t believe that’s the only thing she regrets. It really makes me think. Maybe it’s not that cathartic after all.
April 17th, 2008 at 4:11 am
Truely it is the comprehension from the yelling that creates the effect. When my late brother and I were 10 and 11, we were typical michievious villians. We were in our room, proabably scheming some insidious plot, and we sneaking a cigarette right out the open window that faced the yard. One of us would puff, while one would listen carefully for Mom. Dad was at work. Well, through some possible espionage on my Mom’s part, she snuck up the stairs I’d assume because we were making so very little noise. Perhaps she thought we were dead or something. She pushed opened the door and caught me with smoke going out the window. She did her part and yelled some sort of unhearable vituperation, and we heard the infamous and highly repeated..’your Fahter will hear about this!’ My God, the humanity I thought. Dad was in his early ‘crisis’ years when he sees gray hairs and has a crackling moaning sound come from deep within his diaphram every time he stands up. He also went from Cop to UPS man in the recent past. It payed much better, but it was hard work. Dad had not been in good mood since he started there the year or so ago. Well, ronny and I sort of paniced. We frowned alot. We considered possibly running away from home and living off whatever fish we could get from the Monongahela River. We tered up a bit, we laughed a bit about stupid things like being hit in the head by a rock that bounced back from a rock quarry or the time I broke my wrist while running backward with a football in my arms and I was making ‘haha’ sounds at the other team and I fell. Anything except waiting to face Dad, the man whi would yell at you till your eyes were buzzing. The man who really got mad at you when he was yelling at you early one morning before his teeth came out of the glass, and his yells sounded like”MMMFFF GGHUIJ SHUT YUT THUGGER’…his hand print might still be on my butt after that one. We heard his car pull in. We peered out the window and we saw his curly, slightly graying hair. I noticed another oddity and whispered.’looks like a small crop circle on top of his head’..Ronny and I giggled. Heck, we both thought our life was over. Dad had a routine. He would sit down and read the paper. Until he got his glasses, sometimes he would put it on the TV and read the words and claim he had super vision so he’d catch us every time. mom would often give Dad his dessert first and then diner. Dad loved steak and mashed potatoes. Mom is still the world’s greatest cook. He took little time to eat it because he was always so hungry. He would then go drudgingly up the stairs to take his bath. Well, it was hell waiting, but we heard his footsteps. We knew it was him because Dad worked so hard, he’d shuffle up. We used to think he was lazy. Ronny and I could do nothing but sit on the bed and stare at the door. Ronny sighed, sadly. My heart was beating so fast, I felt it in my mouth. Seconds semed like minutes. We figured we would get a spanking and a yelling like we never heard. We assumed he would be yelling at us so recklessly he would spit. We anticipated very strong, very clear, very loud words. sometimes I would remember how he’d say how bad we were. I’d think I don’t want to be, but you yell at me all the time. I saw the door knob clearly turn. i held my breath as it steadily opened. I saw my father just ten feet in front of me. He said, calmly, ‘You just took ten years off of my life’. He closed the door behind him. Ronny and I were stunned. Those words echoed in my head for awhile. I figured it must be some Benjamin Spock thing. I thought for a moment, maybe Dad is just too tired.
I was all of 20 in 1981. I was a Corporal in the US Army. The Army was a good place for me, because before that, I had little or no respect for anyone. I smoked cigarrettes. Till this day I still smoke. But in 1981, while home for a week from the Army, I could not and did not smoke in front of my father. I would not smoke in front of him even if he was smoking. I did not do so for about another six years when I had three children and just got layed off from US Steel. Dad picked me up and took me to his favorite bar. He told his buddies about wee Robert and my three children. He just wanted to show me off and tell his buddies how proud he was of me. He just wanted me to chill for awhile. And I am pretty sure it took two beers and a boilermaker before I lit up in front of Dad. He was my buddy now.
Ronny died of a drug overdose in ‘01. Dad died seven months later. I often believe it was a broken heart. I was the man of the clan. I stood strong and did what men must do during that hard time. On the day of the funeral, I stood like a lone sentry right near Dad’s coffin as streams of my family and lots of friends paraded to say a final goodbye. After all had gone to their cars for the procession, with my sisters and Mom nearby, I walked over. I touched my father’s hand and kissed him so gently on his forehead. I whispered…’I am so sorry Dad..I could use you for ten more years…’
Good Night All