How to Become a Better Leader

Whoever said, “Traveling is beautiful but not as beautiful as coming home,” clearly wasn’t an out of work actor.

About two years ago, after nearly a decade of schlepping from one cramped casting room to the next, I parted ways with the love of my life.

New York City.

To say my homecoming to the Bay Area was less than auspicious would be a finalist for understatement of the century.

Returning home felt like using chopsticks for the first time; awkward, embarrassing, and a little bit impractical.

Whatever poise I embellished was belied by the realization the first half of my life hadn’t gone according to plan, and the second felt progressively more uncertain.

 Then one morning, I received a call from a college where I’d applied to be a professor. I’d made the inquiry so long ago I nearly forgot it happened.

“Nick! I have the perfect class for you,” the man claimed. “It starts in a few weeks.”

The call woke me from a haze, withering the cloud of rejection that seemed to be hovering above since my return.

There was hope; a chance for me to offer value beyond a casting room or stage.

Yet, I’d be lying if I said the teaching offer didn’t feel like a ruse, a dare at best.

How on earth was I going to come up with a rigorous lesson plan for a class I’d never taught, in a community I’d never step foot in, to a group of students I knew nothing about?

This could be a disaster, I thought.

So what did I do?

I accepted the offer.

Five months later, I’m happy to report I’m still standing.

Mostly.

Teaching, it turns out, is less of a job than a calling, a craft even.

And like, say a carpenter, the stakes for not using your tools precisely, are just as high.

A good teacher has the power to influence, lift a spirit, and at best, bolster a sense of self-belief.

So on the days where I’d peer out into a sea of blank stares, my heart would sink, convinced I had no business teaching whatever little I claimed to know.

I felt like a fraud.

But on the days where personal stories were shared, spirited debate reigned, and no one seemed to mind the class going over time, there was nowhere on earth I’d have rather been.

After class, I’d practically skip to my car.

As a whole, my first semester turned out to be far more successful than I could have imagined.

I made meaningful connections, stress tested what worked, and walked away with some indispensable lessons on leadership that transcend the classroom.

Here is 1 of 10 Lessons on Leading a Team

Show up on time

Your credibility can erode by the second. Literally.

Honoring your commitments is the easiest way to communicate you’re invested in both the mission at hand and the people you’re leading.

Arriving on time may seem insignificant, but it’s the simplest behaviors, good and bad, that compound over time and make all the difference.

Showing a reverence for the only resource we can’t make more of demonstrates the integrity of a person worth following.

What a Mud Fight Taught Me

One November day during my senior year of high school I was sent home by the principal for the first time in my life. I'd played a practical joke on my buddy Alex earlier in the day and didn't realize he had been plotting for most of lunch period on how to get me back.

For anyone who knows Northern California well, you're familiar with our rainy season. This particular winter it had rained a decent amount so the grass on the quad was quite muddy. Seniors who normally sought to take full advantage of the upperclassmen privilege of eating outside were forced to dwell among mere mortals in the cafeteria.

As I made my to class I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was my friend Paul who stood roughly 6 feet tall and outweighed me by at least 80 pounds. He grip was firm and it was clear he wanted me to stay put. Moments later Alex came from behind tackling me to the ground, pummeling my head right into a giant puddle of mud. The two of us were soon entangled in an all out mud fight. Within minutes the entire school had gathered around the quad to watch.

Not long into our friendly tussle, our principal stormed out. "Alex and Nick, in my office now! What made the episode most troubling to him was that Alex and I were the president and vice-president of the student body. "If this is your idea of student leadership you guys are through!" he said.

There we were, standing before the dean absolutely caked in mud, who thankfully had a sense of humor, or perhaps pity about it all. "I have good news and bad news. The bad news is he wants you off student council. The good news is you can go home early."

After Thanksgiving break our principal had time to cool down and told us we could stay on student council as long as we made a more concerted effort to lead by example. Of course, we obliged.

A few days later I was called into Father Malo's classroom. He was a remarkable teacher and his teachings have stuck with me to this day. He taught a class called, Living and Dying and loved the movie, Dead Poets Society with the late great Robin Williams. What spoke to him about the film was the expression English teacher John Keating inspired his students to live by: Carpe Diem. Latin for "Seize the day."

As Father Malo wrapped up speaking to a student he pulled me aside and said, "Nick, I heard about what you and Alex did. And I want you to know I don't condone it but I also don't condemn it. Whatever it was that compelled you to do that -- to play in the mud without a care, don't ever lose that." He pointed straight to my heart for further emphasis.

I learned that when it comes to matters of the heart one must be bold but not reckless, and protect their youthful spirit at all costs. 

Amazing what you can learn from a little scuffle in the mud.

Don't Take Advice So Literally

This morning as I was driving, an excerpt of the very large audiobook I've been listening to literally stopped me in my tracks. The book is about investing and developing a better financial IQ.

"You need to rebalance your portfolio on a regular basis," I heard the voice say. "This requires discipline."

It then dawned on me that though this was very helpful advice when it came to keeping your finances in order, it was also equally valuable insight to nearly every facet of life. Take regular inventory of what you're doing to see if it's actually working, I thought.

How many times have we taken a bit of advice from a book written by someone who claims to be an expert in a field and only applied it to that discipline? Why not cross-pollinate those big bold ideas?

Why can't the lessons from a book about finance be relevant to what you put into your body? What can science teach us about leadership? And on and on.

My take, don't take advice so literally. You might find the lessons gained from one area of expertise apply to others as well.