Preface
IN WRITING THIS book, I attempted to balance stories from my experience with stories from my colleagues. When I had completed the manuscript, my editor encouraged me to preface it by sharing my life story so that you, the reader, would know why I believe passionately in courage and truth telling. As both a 20-year veteran of human resources and a trained psychotherapist, I know that every person has a story. Each person you encounter at work, no matter how polished or together they seem, has likely experienced more heartache and trauma and challenge than youd expect. Myself included.
This truth was reinforced several years ago at a dinner for executive team members. As we chatted, we began sharing stories of our first jobs (nearly all of us started working at age 12), the humble circumstances of our families, how we scraped through college, and so on. We drew the conclusion that there was a benefit to that early working and scraping and effortit contributed to the degree of success and accomplishment we had achieved, since our early starts werent what would be called easy.
My childhood in Michigan involved prolonged, severe abuse. It was extraordinarily painful in every sense (physically, mentally, and emotionally) yet easy for others to miss because my family moved every couple of years. The benefit it did provide, however, was my obsessive desire to overcome, move on, and create a completely different experience for myself.
My solace growing up was the escape I found at school. School was a place where no one could harm me in the way I was harmed at home. I loved school. Loved studying. Loved the competitiveness of vying for the best grades. It was an environment in which I thrived, and I learned that through performing well I got the recognition I craved.
This early pattern helped me persist as I worked full time while taking full course loads at college and then graduate school. The work ethic I developed would become a cornerstone of future achievements. I have simply always loved going to work. Whether in my career as a newly minted marriage and family therapist or later as I transitioned into business, I found work to be this amazing place to get fulfillment through helping others, solving problems, and getting stuff done.
I have mentored many young people as they begin their careers and agonize over what postsecondary degrees to pursue (or what degrees theyve already earned). Ive always laughed and then shared that I have (1) a theology undergraduate degree and (2) a graduate degree in marriage and family therapy. Without fail, this always shocks themwhich will forever amuse me. My message is that, ultimately, it doesnt matter where you went to school or what your degree is, where you come from or what your story is; what matters is what you accomplish on the job and how you contribute.
At this point in my life, I have worked for three global corporations, and I am fortunate that the first was Wal-Mart Stores, Inc. It was the quintessential meritocracy. When I joined the company in 1996, I was told to never share that I had any college education because it might be off-putting to coworkers given that many were not college educated, instead rising from the hourly-worker ranks into management. Sam Walton had built a culture where people were promoted based on resultsno matter where they came from. Walmart was a place where your past was irrelevant. And given my past, I was delighted to jump in, work my tail off, and see where it went.
But I never originally envisioned a career in business, let alone in human resources. After graduate school, my plan was to head to Dallas, Texas, to join a multidisciplinary mental health practice that a group of us were forming (a psychiatrist, social worker, psychologist, and me). I felt that being a therapist was my calling, and I was driven to help people overcome their challenges and be healthier and more fulfilled. I couldnt imagine any other line of work; I considered myself a lifer. And at that point, I had never even heard of human resources (or personnel, as it was then known)or taken a business management class.
Due to unexpected circumstances, I was invited to speak to some Walmart executives as a get to know you exercise. When those conversations went well, after much prodding from family and friends to just check it out and see where it goes, I interviewed at Walmart for a personnel role in the Logistics Division.
My mentor, a fellow marriage and family therapist, advised that while the practice in Dallas was being established by the others, it made sense for me to work for a year at the largest business in the world. He knew how hard it was to get a mental health practice started and profitable, and thought that at Walmart I could get terrific experience that would in turn help me help my patients, while earning good money.
My mentors advice seemed prudent. When I accepted the role, I anticipated spending a year or so with Walmart before rejoining my therapy colleagues in Texas and settling down as a therapistno harm, no foul.
I never made it to Dallas.
The second day on the job as the personnel manager trainee for Walmarts Transportation Office (mechanics, truck drivers, and dispatchers were now my clients), the woman in the top job went on medical leave. Within 48 hours of my arrival, trainee was dropped from my title and my orientation was over. My adventure in business had begun.
I quickly discovered that I could get the same charge out of helping people in a corporate setting as I did in a clinical setting. It was fun. And intense. And exciting. And new.
I had found my home.
In the next nine years, I made multiple moves, which culminated with my working at headquarters and living in Bentonville, Arkansas. But while my career was flourishing, my personal life was foundering. I had had a disastrous marriage and an excruciating divorce. I was a single working mother to a beautiful baby boyand I was ready for a change of scenery.
I toyed with the idea of going back to private practice, but before that thought had a chance to fully form, an executive search firm representing Campbell Soup Company called me. Campbells was looking for a global organization effectiveness director to lead leadership and culture initiatives. And my experience was just what they were looking for.
When I arrived at Campbells headquarters in Camden, New Jersey, I was no longer a starry-eyed newbie. Thanks to Walmarts prominence in the business world, I had had many priceless experiences. I was exposed to the first-rate executive teams at GE and at Motorola, worked on global projects of significant scale, facilitated five-year strategy meetings, and coached senior executives throughout the company. Bottom line? Walmart was a tremendous training ground.
I was drawn to the Campbells job because the role afforded me the opportunity to work closely with the then CEO , Doug Conant. This was a privilege because Doug was a CEO who emphasized that successful business performance was dependent on how it was achieved. In other words, leadership and culture mattered a great deal. And my job was to partner with him to bring his vision to reality.
By the time I left Walmart, I was a firm believer that who you are as a leader either creates a tremendous positive, far-reaching impact or casts a massive shadow on the organization. That it is critical to create an environment where employees can easily do what they are hired to do. Doug walked that talk.
During my three years at headquarters, I was given positions of increasing seniority and worked on programs and initiatives that live on to this day. And I made my enthusiasm for and openness to an international role known. So when I was asked to consider the position of vice president, human resources and public affairs, for the Asia-Pacific region, my answer was a resounding yes. This was a dream job in a dream locationSydney, Australia. I spent two years there.