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Upward: Leadership Lessons for Women on the Rise
Upward: Leadership Lessons for Women on the Rise
Upward: Leadership Lessons for Women on the Rise
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Upward: Leadership Lessons for Women on the Rise

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About this ebook

Upward is a book every businesswoman who dreams of holding a leadership position should read because it will answer questions such as ...

  • Do you wonder how to overcome challenges in the workplace that hold you back from your leadership goals?
  • Do you wish you could ask current women in leadership how they did it?
LanguageEnglish
PublisherBMcHAWK TALKS
Release dateJun 8, 2021
ISBN9781953315076
Upward: Leadership Lessons for Women on the Rise

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    Upward - BMcHAWK TALKS

    Lisa DeFalco

    CEO and Founder of TPG

    LISA’S PATH TO LEADERSHIP

    My path to leadership is not for the faint of heart. It involved as much failure as success, sprinkled with reflection and gratitude. Most of my childhood was spent in Newark, New Jersey, an innercity environment where work was expected, and dreams were not. The most ambitious accomplishment I could muster was entrance into college, and I was the first in my family to graduate with a college degree.

    I was an average and unsettled student in college, full of what I thought was ambition but too disorganized to capitalize on it. When I graduated, a friend offered me a job in a call center, and I simply took it to avoid having to create a résumé and start interviewing. I didn’t want to think about my career. I simply accepted a form of income that would allow me to move into my own apartment and start the next chapter of my life. It wasn’t long into that position that I began to feel unsettled again. I grew restless with the role I had in the company and sought advancement. Since it was a privately held company, advancement came quickly in the form of broadening my responsibilities to include areas of the business that needed attention or simply were not glamorous enough to hire a seasoned professional to lead.

    I started as a supervisor. Within two years, I had become responsible for operations involving all labor shifts, overseeing about a dozen supervisors as well as HR and quality assurance. Yet, I still wanted more. Looking back on those years, I realize that my ambition was really nothing more than a yearning for something more in life—that continuous feeling of being unsettled. I had not really become ambitious yet, although from the outside it would appear that I was. I was simply a kid from the inner city trying to find my way and not feeling that I fit in anywhere I went. It was during these initial years in the working world that I transitioned from feeling unsettled to developing an ambition to serve a more purposeful mission in life. And I recall the day it all started….

    Having been given more responsibility than my years deserved, I was also expected to do the work that no one else in senior leadership wanted to do. Much of that had to do with working long hours and engaging our front-line labor force. I learned quickly that my work ethic was my strongest characteristic—which probably remains true today. My energy made fifteen-hour workdays, without even a moment of hesitation, the norm. I thrived on the energy and pace. So when the company’s owners announced my first defining assignment of leadership, I wanted to embrace it wholeheartedly. I wanted to embrace it with the same energy I gave every challenge. Yet, something was so direly wrong with the assignment that I privately struggled.

    What was the assignment? Laying off the entire operation from Christmas Eve until the third week of January. We were a call center, but none of our customers wanted to pay us to make calls during that time. So, instead of carrying labor costs and impacting their own profits, the owners decided that everyone would be laid off. No salary, no paid time off, no nothing. I was asked to make the announcement on December 23 and process the paperwork for the entire staff—all 150 people. The owners advised me of this assignment a few days prior as they casually left the office to have dinner. I spent the next few days numb and feeling ill. I convinced myself that this decision was necessary for the company’s survival. I figured that the owners would never lay off an entire workforce on Christmas Eve unless it was absolutely necessary, and this temporary closing would ensure we could financially return in January. So, as a completely inexperienced twenty-three-year-old, I held my first all-company meeting to share the news. People cried. I was ice about it. I knew it had to be done and simply completed the task. Was that the lesson in leadership? No, it was not. It was a lesson in cowardice. But I didn’t know it at the time.

    We did return in January and the operation grew. We started a third production shift, thereby expanding our hours of operation from 9:00 a.m. to midnight. We operated seven days a week. There was never a day that went by without work, and I thrived on the pace. As the following year came to a close, I thought for certain we would celebrate the growth, the above and beyond effort the entire team had put forth to grow to 260 employees in our operation. We operated every waking hour available to call centers in those days, and the owners were generating a 50% margin for every hour we worked. Definitely worthy of recognition, right? Once again, as Christmas Eve approached, I was advised that the company would shut down until the third week of January. Once again, I was told to lay off the entire company on Christmas. This time I pushed for pay for the team, paid time off, a year-end bonus, or even a simple symbolic thank-you gift. All requests were denied.

    That is when my lesson took hold. This time, as I gathered my team to share this news, I cried with them. I listened to the stories of our working moms who were unsure how they were going to provide Christmas for their kids. I heard the pain in their voices as they talked about the impact of being without income for a month. I learned that leadership is about showing up and facing the difficult moments. I learned not to delegate the meaningful moments that could build up a culture or tear it down. Leadership creates a culture, and it is during the darkest times that an inspiring culture can be formed. That’s leadership; that’s the lesson that I took as I left to start my own company.

    Starting your own enterprise in your twenties is no easy feat. While I started my own business with this memorable lesson, I still lacked any senior business experience associated with creating a company. Over the past twenty-four years, I have learned on the field, as they say. Every experience teaches me a lesson. I consider myself a student of life and business. The guiding light that has always led me involves the power of leading a team by a vision that creates a purpose greater than any one individual. This powerful lesson started on a Christmas week, when I realized that we were all in the situation together, that we all sought a way to do well for the company we worked for while doing well for our families. This spirit of togetherness helped me through the second season of personnel cuts and confirmed my desire to create a place where that belief—the belief that we were all in the situation together—truly mattered. That was the fuel behind opening the doors to my own organization. That purpose remains the fuel behind my passion, even now.

    Creating a common purpose to unify a group of people requires constant communication of what your vision is, as well as humility to know when you are not living up to those expectations. That’s a hard lesson to learn in your twenties. I found myself learning that lesson for decades. As I said, I’m a student in this game of life and business.

    When people ask about the single greatest experience that helped me become the leader that I am, I share the following without hesitation: failure. I have failed more than I have succeeded. I used to fear failure. Over time, I learned that it is part of the path of success. I cannot recognize or celebrate the great success we have experienced at TPG without having lived through the failures. There are highs and lows in business. That rhythm allows for reflection during the lows and gratitude during the highs. When you start to embrace that rhythm and allow it to truly become part of your DNA, then you learn the power of reflection and gratitude, regardless of the moment that you are experiencing. As a result, I also find gratitude during the darkest moments and reflect during our greatest accomplishments.

    These past few years at TPG have involved several new twists in uncharted territory, including managing through a global pandemic. Yes, there are highs and lows, but now each ride up the proverbial roller coaster ushers in peace versus exuberance, and each downward twist brings humility instead of despair. While my title of CEO and Founder suggests a leadership role, it is my ability to lead with reflection and gratitude that allows me to humbly accept the title of leader.

    LISA’S GREATEST CHALLENGE

    Not knowing my own voice or direction…not having enough quiet in my life to silence the noise involving fear and belief that I cannot do something.

    The greatest challenge faced by any leader, especially women, is not having a strong inner voice to guide one along the path forward. As women, we are taught to mind our manners and listen before speaking. Consciously or subconsciously, we are taught to heed the words of others, as the men in our lives are taught to lead. I was raised by a very strong woman, and even she succumbed to the noise around her at many points in her life. As such, we are placed in roles to define our behavior even though they should be seen simply as options to the many paths available to us in life. As a woman in business, I find these roles create a different message than the one I silently yearn to develop for myself. The message is that societal conflict creates an automatic group of critical voices that compete with my inner voice of who I am and the path I choose to pursue.

    The battle between external influences and my inner voice rages on even today. There are too many critics in the world, and they show up at the most inopportune times—moments when your uncertainty is high. They are happy to share why an idea won’t work or pick at your greatest insecurity, like a child picks at a scab. Some of these critics do particular harm because they position their feedback with words of false support, in the spirit of helping. Without having a strong inner voice and belief system, it is easy to lose your direction and wind up overwhelmed.

    I’ve experienced great success at TPG but also significant hardships. My inner voice is needed during both cycles to guide me as an individual and a leader. The two are one and the same. I have learned that when my individual soul is lost, then everything around me feels unknown. When I can’t recognize myself, I can’t recognize my surroundings, which opens me up to poor choices and the opinion of those whose counsel is not authentic.

    Several years ago, TPG lost a significant client, which caused us to reduce our workforce by 40%. It was a brutal experience and one of the greatest professional failures in my life. We had just agreed to move into a new corporate headquarters, signing a fifteen-year lease for millions of dollars. The client loss triggered financial losses that needed to be addressed rapidly to avoid collapse. At the same time, historical memories of how not to handle a business downturn stewed in my mind. We worked with our HR team to offer everyone severance and several months of notification that the change would occur. The decision to provide severance, manage through this downturn, and work to secure new clients became the clear path. But that path was not without its critics. Nor would it be the last time that the voice of critics rang so loudly in my ears that I had to silence them in order to lead us forward.

    The most recent experience of COVID-19 probably gives the best example of the need to have a strong inner voice. Like most companies, we experienced revenue reduction. Clients asked for assistance to modify their spend commitments with us, yet we had just decided to embark on an extensive research and development (R&D) investment in AI technology for our business. It appeared that the timing was all wrong for that investment and we should hold off until the following year. Concurrently, our staff was becoming growingly concerned about working from the office. The amount of duress was palpable. One day I looked at the calendar and it was March 15; the next time I looked up it was July—a blur.

    There were a number of decisions I was required to make during that time. Moving our workforce home, gracefully agreeing to client revenue reductions, managing the nerves of our staff, renegotiating our office rent, deciding on the continuation of our R&D investment, deciding whether or not to lay off staff since we now found ourselves more than twenty-five people overstaffed, and deciding when to return to our office were just a few of the tough calls that required my attention. Deliberating on these issues required all of the past experience I have learned about reflection, gratitude, tenacity, and perseverance. This was the most monumental moment of TPG’s tenure and my career. How I navigated this would impact us for years. What did I need most? Quiet. I needed to hear what my inner voice was sharing. I had the advice of the outside from a variety of perspectives, but the voice I counted on the most was my own, so I had to find it.

    I sought my inner voice among a sea of noise. Feedback and fear were everywhere, especially as the pandemic accelerated. I had my share of critics in the galley. I’d been called reckless, uncaring, indecisive, and inexperienced, as well as compassionate, thoughtful, mature, strong, bold, and brave. I don’t know which label best described me during this time, but I do know that I did not realize how little quiet I had in my life prior to COVID-19 and how much clearer the proper direction presented itself in that quiet. It was this new-found quiet that played the hero role during this chaos. In that quiet, I found my inner voice, and it was clear: push forward with our plans; make a bold play toward the future; don’t succumb to fear that is surrounding

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