I was digging through boxes in the basement on a rainy Saturday morning last month looking for my “Bridge the Gap” materials. I couldn’t locate that weathered glue-bound book and if anyone has one, please let me know. I really need a copy. What I did find was my 1993 bar review materials. I promptly tossed those. I figured after 30 years, I was unlikely to look in that book for any legal analysis. Why do we carry around this junk from home to home?

In the process of rooting around through boxes of lost treasures, memorabilia and other useless reminders of the past, I came across a paper weight which belonged to my father and sat prominently on his desk at Baylor University. He was chairman of the Department of English and had the unenviable job of managing college professors, university politics and college athletes who needed to pass their English classes. To say he faced daily pressure is an understatement. I used to think that paperweight, which had a picture of a buck standing in the woods (photograph above) was an odd choice for him. He wasn’t a hunter and didn’t own a gun. The paperweight reads “The buck stops here.”

Since taking office as president of the Tennessee Bar Association, I am starting to understand why he kept that reminder on his desk. It wasn’t long after Convention in Franklin that my phone began to ring at all hours of the night. Friends, strangers and colleagues all began to reach out to me in my new role. Each call was on a different topic. One call was about the nomination of a judge from New York to the federal bench. Another was a call about the impending cuts to legal aid across the United States. A third call concerned an item in TBA Today.

While I was honored that people thought I had the power to resolve their issue, I was simultaneously taken aback that people felt it was perfectly okay to yell at me, chastise me and demand an immediate response to their particular issue just because I was president.

I was frustrated. I carried around this frustration for a couple weeks until I found my father’s paperweight in the basement. He was right. The buck does stop here.

It is my job to field those calls and do what I can to consider and address these issues. I took that paperweight to work and put in on stack of unread bar journals as a daily reminder of the weight of this job. I am committed to taking every one of those calls. Although I am not going to pick up every call on Sunday night any more, I am going to take those calls with a different mindset. If nothing else, I can be a sounding board and look to our association’s resources and prioritize where the Tennessee Bar Association can make a difference. I continue to use our bylaws as a guiding force in responding to every request whether that request comes from our members, nonmembers or staff.

I am beginning to settle into this job. I simply failed to understand that I was taking on the responsibility of managing the frustrations people have regarding such a vast array of issues. Nothing had prepared me for the level of emotion I heard over my cell phone these last weeks.

I suspect that any manager reading this column is chuckling right now at my surprise. What did I think I was getting myself into? You’ve been taking these calls and holding meetings with your team for years. You have likely found a successful way to navigate the emotions and make people feel heard or you wouldn’t still hold your position. You have my newfound respect.

For everyone who needs to reach out to the managers or those for whom “the buck stops here,” take a moment either before making the call or even during the call to remind yourself that the person you are talking to is trying to do their best. Remember that anyone willing to take on a leadership role is interested in being a servant leader.

Now, here’s a challenge: the next time you call or meet with someone who you believe has the power to address a problem you are facing, I want you to do one more thing. When the conversation is over, stop and think of someone you admire or someone who has meant something to you. Identify someone who has taught you an important lesson or who has been there for you at a difficult time. Once you have that person in mind, send a quick email or text and tell that person how much you appreciate them. You will be surprised how much of a difference a short simple reach out can make in a person’s life. You might just feel better, too.

I am figuring out how best to serve this organization. What I have learned so far is the Tennessee Bar Association has hired some of the best people. They are committed to member engagement and problem solving. Keep those calls coming. We are up to the challenge. I understand now. The buck stops here. |||