Leadership
My Grandmother’s Influence Kept Me From Turning Into a Corporate Zombie
Work advice from my grandmother cemented my success
“You don’t really understand something until you can explain it to your grandmother.” –Albert Einstein
I loved listening to my Grandmother talk; she was from Alabama, Cajun country. Whenever I could, I would call and talk to her. My Grandmother would roar at my tales of being the Vice President of a major Aerospace company. She was eighty-four years old and, until she retired, spent her life as a domestic servant. She cleaned homes and cared for White children until she was seventy-five years old.
Grandma’s Advice
Grandmother treasured the fact that none of her grandchildren followed her path. We were engineers, Ph.D.’s, teachers, and business owners. She loved to talk about our successes, even though I know she didn’t understand what we did for a living. Grandma understood I was the boss of white people. She helped me understand how to be a leader.
Money was one of her favorite subjects. My Grandmother counted her money in hundreds. For example, she had twenty hundreds in the bank or two thousand dollars. Her first question to me was always the same, “How many hundreds was my business worth? Have the hundreds gone up or down?” We were heading to the first laugh. Since my division was worth 407 million dollars, that was 40,700 hundred dollar bills. She would smile because my business was growing.
Our second topic was about how much money they paid me to be the boss. “They are paying you, girl, cause you smart. How many hundreds are you getting?” Since I was making a six-figure salary, she greeted my compensation number with a full laugh, a hand clap, and a one-foot stump.
“You carrying that money home in a wheelbarrow.” she would say. “I sho would like to be there when you got paid.” When she worked, they paid my grandmother sixty dollars a day in cash, but she understood checks. She got her two-hundred-and sixteen-dollar Social Security check each month. My brother would take her to the bank to deposit the check. Her grandchildren provided anything extra she needed. I would tell her I was paid with checks. She would respond with a laugh, “I sure would like to see all those hundreds, though.”
“You carrying that money home in a wheelbarrow.” She would say. “I sho would like to be there when you got paid.” When she worked, they paid my Grandmother sixty dollars a day in cash, but she understood checks. She got her two-hundred-and sixteen-dollar Social Security check each month. My brother would take her to the bank to deposit the check. Her grandchildren provided anything extra my Grandmother needed. I would tell her I was paid with checks. She would respond with a laugh, “I sure would like to see all those hundreds, though.”
The most fun was when we talked about my routine meetings. It tickled her that I was telling White men what to do. She’d had trouble with several of the white men she worked for over the years. Gran would tell me those stories as we discussed my job. Grandma had strong opinions about my meetings and plenty of advice for me.
“Are there any mo girls in the room?”
“No.”
“Is there any mo colored in the room?”
“No.”
“You the boss, right?”
“Yes, I’m second in command. Only my boss can tell me what to do. He is not at the meeting.”
“You the boss. Them men don like it. Call them meetings early and every day.” She would start laughing as she talked. “You got to work harder than them. Make em in wait for you. Then, don’t give em no paper cause they gone read the paper while you talk. Then girl put them electronics charts on they butt. Them big charts.” My Grandmother called spreadsheets: the big charts.
We would sip tea, plan, and laugh about how they didn’t know who they were dealing with. “You a queen. Don’t take no bad work from them men. They tricky, but you trickier. Treat everybody fair. That will get em.” We would guffaw over the complications I would cause by treating everyone equally.
Consequences
I listened. I took control of my meetings. Explaining problematic work situations to my grandmother had the effect of forcing me to consider options. I didn’t take ‘bad work’; everyone knew my presentations needed to be crisp. I treated everyone fairly regardless of skin color, sexual background, or religion before it was fashionable. I didn’t take no shit.
Talking to my Grandmother always cleared my mind about what was important. Her confidence that I could handle everything thrown my way was an upper when things were hard at work. Her plain-spoken acknowledgment that “they” didn’t like me no matter what I did helped ground me. Knowing I talk to Grandma stopped me from making snap judgments. Having to explain to her made me behave decently. When I had the opportunity to use power in an ugly or vindictive way, I did not. I could hear her voice in my ear, expecting me to do the right thing.
I listened. I took control of my meetings. Explaining problematic work situations to my grandmother had the effect of forcing me to consider options. I didn’t take ‘bad work’; everyone knew my presentations needed to be crisp. I treated everyone fairly regardless of skin color, sexual background, or religion before it was fashionable. I didn’t take no shit.
What would grandma think about me if I behaved the way she expected ‘them’ to act? Her presence kept me on track. Looking back, much of my success at work was driven by the fact that people knew they could trust me. They could follow me and not be misused. My Grandmother’s influence made the difference between turning into a corporate ghoul or staying true to myself.
My Grandmother passed, but I wish she was still here to talk with me. She always made me think and appreciate what I had and who I was. Advice from my grandmother made me a better leader.
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Toni Crowe retired as the Vice President of Operations of a division of a multi-billion-dollar company to pursue her dream of being a writer. Toni has written six books. Her bestselling business book, ‘Bullets and Bosses Don’t Have Friends’ won a Gold Readers Award.
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