For years, I could tell you exactly how it felt to have the Chairman of the largest music company in the world wave us off dismissively. The preparation. The nerves. The moment I realized he was done listening. Was I naive to think I belonged in the room anyway? Yes.
Was I still crushed by that wave of the hand? Yes.
I even made myself a promise: if I ever sat on the other side of that desk, I would handle it differently.
Then Cassandra brought me something I didn’t understand, and I did essentially the same damn thing.
Apparently, remembering how someone made you feel doesn’t automatically change how you treat people when you get their job.
A few things I see more clearly now:
My ambition was doing some of the planning. We wanted the company to understand what was coming. We also wanted the chairman to see how smart we were. Those two desires got mixed together, and we chose our audience accordingly.
We rehearsed the words more carefully than we considered the decision. We knew who would speak and when. We were much less clear about what, specifically, we wanted someone to do after listening.
His success helped explain his reaction. The business he understood was working beautifully. We were asking him to take seriously something we couldn’t fully explain, while he had years of results supporting his view.
Being dismissed made me quieter. That part matters if you’re the boss. You may think you’ve finished one conversation. The person across from you may decide against bringing you the next one.
What I’d do differently:
Before pitching: find someone who understands the issue, has credibility with the decision-maker, and can help define a useful next step.
Before dismissing: ask one more question. Or at least take a beat. Especially when the person bringing the idea has already earned my respect.
The question I’m left with:
Who gets the version of me I once promised I’d never become?