Embodying the notions of professionalism is important to long-term success. Be formal but not unfriendly. Friendly but not informal. Efficient but also effective. Zealous but also reasonable. Inquisitive but not annoying. Confident but also humble. Driven but not fanatical. Autonomous but also collaborative. Firm but also flexible.
I see you: glazed eyes, nodding along. Which is what they do. Students, interns, young professionals. They smile, and they nod, and they convincingly “of course” you when given this kind of mentorship advice because they either (a) think they understand what you mean (they probably don’t) or (b) have no idea what you mean but are too embarrassed to admit it.
Which is why it is incumbent upon us, as mentors, coaches and/or experienced practitioners, to dig deeper. Many of you are sighing and rolling your eyes—you don’t have the bandwidth to put together a robust professionalism curriculum. I get it. But what if all it took was asking one additional question? Just one. “What does that look like to you?”
During my son’s first T-ball season, I was growing increasingly frustrated with his lack of hustle. I didn’t care if he was the best kid on the team, but it was important to me that he tried his best every time he stepped on the field. So before one of his games, I pulled him aside and said, “Hey, buddy—the only thing I care about is that you try your best and hustle, OK? Can you do those things for me tonight?”
He nodded earnestly, “Got it, Mommy.” I could tell from those determined big blue eyes of his that he really, really meant it. As I unfolded my chair and sat down along the first-base line, I was certain that tonight was going to be different.
It wasn’t. He picked dandelions in the outfield. Didn’t pay attention to the batting order and nearly missed his turn at the plate. Watched as a ball slowly rolled by without taking a single step toward it. Leisurely skipped on and off the field, always one of the last ones to the huddle.
I was fuming. On the ride home after the game, I tried to remain calm by asking questions, rather than just jumping into a lecture.
Me: “How do you think you played today?”
Him: “Grrrrrreat!”
Me: “Really?”
Him: “Yep.”
Me: “So you really think you hustled and tried your best like I asked?”
Him: “Yep!”
And he genuinely meant it. He seemed proud of accomplishing his mission. I was taken aback. I paused and reevaluated the situation.
Me: “Tell me, buddy: what does hustling and doing your best look like?”
Him: “Getting hits, not striking out and scoring runs.”
And therein lies the problem. I had made a critical coaching error: I had assumed that he and I shared a common understanding of what “try your best” and “hustle” looked like—that he knew how to translate those big, hazy concepts into concrete actions without further direction.
To me, “try your best” meant running the bases at full speed, paying attention to your coaches, being in ready position whenever the ball was hit, knowing where the next play was, swinging hard and fast. But I didn’t explain that. I had assumed. And I realized I was just as much to blame as he was.
I learned a valuable lesson that day, one that I have carried with me my into both my personal and professional lives. When it comes to implementing ideals, do not assume a common understanding: confirm it. And the easiest way to do so is by asking a single question: “What does that look like to you?”
My husband is an “early is on time” person. I am an “on time is on time” person. He used to get frustrated with me when it came to leaving the house for scheduled events, as I always thought we were right on schedule, while he constantly felt like we were running late. Now, when he says, “Hey Jill, it’s important we leave on time tonight,” I don’t just smile and nod. I clarify: “What does ‘on time’ look like to you? When exactly do you want us to be out the door?”
When it comes to mentoring students, interns and new colleagues on professionalism ideals, we must ask ourselves: Are we assuming common understandings? Are we accepting their deer-in-the-headlights nod at face value? Are they falling short of our expectations because they don’t care or don’t try hard enough or because we haven’t clarified our specific “out the door” time?
“Our office dress policy is business casual.” (Nod.) But for some, “business casual” means anything but jeans; for others, it means business formal without a tie. So ask the question: “For me, that typically looks like a polo and dress pants. What might business casual look like to you?”
“Client A is important to the firm, so you need to respond to their inquiries in a timely manner.” (Nod.) But for some, “timely” means by the end of the week; for others, it means within the hour. So ask the question: “Just so I make sure we are on the same page, what does ‘timely’ mean to you?”
“When addressing the judge, it’s important to be respectful.” (Nod.) For some, “respectful” means keeping your head down and not speaking until spoken to by the court; for others, it means standing up and proactively greeting the judge. So ask the question: “Why don’t we talk about what showing respect to the judge might look like during this hearing?”
With these examples, it’s easy to see how assuming a common understanding (e.g., stopping at the nod without further inquiry) might unintentionally lead to frustration, embarrassment and/or disappointment during implementation. Sometimes a failure to meet expectations isn’t due to a lack of effort, skill or desire to improve. It’s due to unclear expectations: They think you want them to hit home runs when you really just want them to stop picking dandelions.
So don’t assume. Stay curious. Drill down. Confirm. Coach. Model. And ask the question: “What does that look like to you?”
After a decade serving the judiciary in various capacities, Jillian Boone currently is a lecturer and an assistant director of externships at the Ohio State University Moritz College of Law.
ABAJournal.com is accepting queries for original, thoughtful, nonpromotional articles and commentary by unpaid contributors to run in the Your Voice section. Details and submission guidelines are posted at “Your Submissions, Your Voice.”
