We recently broadcast a webinar focused on the importance of kid-centered communications. If you attended, thank you. If you didn’t, we missed you.
And you missed a funny moment.
The broadcast involved two locations. The host in one—and I sat in another office. Two computers, two webcams, two microphones, two people. Seems like easy math so far. At the end of the webinar, though, only one person clicked “End session” on his computer. Because the webinar involved two of everything else, others assumed I did the same. Unfortunately, I didn’t. So when everyone involved with the production gathered in the office where I sat, the camera and mic remained on.
None of us knew.
After several minutes of group talking, a colleague ran into our office to share the alarming news: “You’re still broadcasting!”
As we all quickly glanced at the computer, we could see our images on the screen. And in that same moment, everyone wondered the same question: Others could hear us, so what did we say?
Nothing bad or stupid, fortunately. And another fortunate thing: After the webinar, we heard that the colleague who alerted us to the mistake had logged on as an administrator. So maybe, hopefully, the only people who could see and hear us were those people on the network in the building.
That experience begs the question: How would my conversations change if a webcam and mic followed me throughout the day? A challenging thought, indeed—one that potentially questions my character.
Pastor Bill Hybels wrote a book titled Who You Are (When No One’s Looking) . I can picture the character test involved with making wise decisions when no one knows. Except you and God, of course. This webinar ordeal, though, comes at the same issue from a different angle. Specifically, don’t say or do anything that I would cringe to see broadcast on the Web.
While this discussion might seem elementary so far, here’s a question that digs a little deeper: If everyone on your team could tune in to the conversations you’ve had over the past three days, would you need to make any apologies?
I’m challenged by this experience. As a leader, my words carry positional weight. Do I handle them appropriately, or do I throw them around carelessly? Sure, I initiate and participate in conversations that deal with confidential issues requiring discernment. But many other discussions take place throughout the day, and sometimes my guard is down.
Maybe an example will help. Several years ago, a fellow leader came into my office, shut the door, and we had a “download session.” That’s a kind way of describing “complaining to release pressure because if I don’t I’ll kill someone or quit.” You’ve been there. As we downloaded, I made disparaging remarks about someone under our leadership. Big mistake. In those moments of careless and callous talk, I completely forgot that he sat only feet away from my door. Yes, he heard everything. Yes, I felt the lowest I’ve ever felt as a leader. Not because he overhead. Because of what I said.
Soon after, he and I discussed my mistake. He graciously forgave me. I still regret it, though.
Action item: For the next two days, audit what you say about other people. At the end of two days, assess yourself. Be honest. Be brutal. You’ll know what you need to do next. Finally, give serious thought to how many leaders seem to truly monitor their comments versus those who don’t and cause organizational fallout.
Strong character is shown when the words I say when no one is listening are the same words I say when I know someone hears them all. On the Web, through a door, around the corner, or standing in front of me.
Words count for character. It’s easy math.
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David Staal, senior editor of Today’s Children’s Ministry, serves as the president of Kids Hope USA , a national non-profit organization that partners local churches with elementary schools to provide mentors for at-risk students. Prior to this assignment, David led Promiseland, the children’s ministry at Willow Creek Community Church in South Barrington, Illinois. David is the author of Words Kids Need to Hear (2008) and lives in Grand Haven, Michigan, with his wife Becky, son Scott, and daughter Erin. Interested in David speaking at your event? Click here
©2010, David Staal
