Founder, Sara Sweat, is talking about the sought after skill of executive presence. Through the lens of a very personal story, Sara shares how she has striven to authentically embody executive presence & used it to create meaningful impact far away from the boardroom.
Sara Sweat, MA – Founder & CEO, A Life Curated
If you’ve ever been the primary caregiver for a loved one with a serious medical condition, you know all too well the extreme honor and exquisite hell the position holds. It’s one of the rawest examples of the oft used phrase “building the plane while flying it” as you rapidly acquire knowledge & skills in an attempt to preserve dignity, advocate for care, & improve or prolong quality of life.
I have had the privilege twice. And, a privilege it is. As painful as they were, I will be forever grateful for the moments each instance carried for connection, healing, & peace. While no one is ever prepared for the task, in many ways, my career in leadership provided me with resources the average caregiver might be forced to meet these moments without. And, for me, the most important of those skills was executive presence.
Whether we call it executive presence, executive voice, or simply the ability to command a room, we all know it when we see it. The quiet confidence of someone who knows what they are doing & is able to do it with an ease and a clarity that commands attention, breeds trust, and inspires action.
When my mother made the decision to transition the treatment of her Stage IV pancreatic cancer to hospice care, we all expected treatment to simplify. Her goals were clear; mitigate pain & have as many high quality days as possible without trying to prolong life. We quickly learned that simple was not going to be part of the plan.
Care was delivered by professionals from hospice, nursing home, primary care, & oncology with each clinical team rounding on different days. As her disease progressed rapidly and orders for medication protocols changed frequently, relevant policies and treatment options were often withheld or offered based on lagging or incomplete information. The result was far too many days when I would arrive in my mother’s room to find her with tears in her eyes, gripping the side of the bed, bent over in excruciating pain.
We were failing her goals.
Something inside me took over. A part of me that was born in leadership seminars and sales conferences and boardroom presentations. Something in me that knew, deep down, that this was not how her story was going to end & that I had both the power & the presence to inspire the rewrite.
I had three things going for me that had always fueled my executive presence.
- I knew what I knew – and what I didn’t.
- I had high standards and requirements that were clear and I could deliver on my role in executing against them.
- I was able to be present enough to learn, direct, and pivot, as needed.
Know What You Know
I am not a medical professional. I had never done care coordination or helped someone navigate hospice care. I didn’t understand the intricacies of pain management or cancer treatment. But, I knew one subject area better than anyone else – my mother.
I knew who she was. What she would and wouldn’t comply with. What she enjoyed and what she would loathe. What would make her laugh so heartily her whole body would shake and what would elicit a withering look of disappointment that could stun a team of oxen. I knew this woman. In a sea of uncertainty, of this – I was certain.
I began filling the gaps in my medical knowledge through rigorous and detailed advocacy. Every time a medical professional was in the room, I was too. I asked questions – building an org chart in my head and assigning roles and responsibilities much the way I would if I were preparing to deliver a sales presentation. Learning all the stakeholders – who they reported to – what influence they had and over what.
I listened to how they spoke to each other and adopted their shorthand so I could speak their language and earn their trust. I asked for what we needed and kindly followed up to ensure it happened. And, I gave them a chance to get to learn about what I knew, too.
They were delivering care to a woman who had ridden camels in Africa and blown glass in Italy; who had been a prize winning artist and dressage rider and gourmet cook and microbiologist. She knew what was happening to her, she knew who she was, and she was very much alive.
Standards & Requirements
There was no mechanism for care coordination in place, but it was obvious that it was needed. So, I required it. I used my newfound knowledge to meet with every member of the care team separately to explain the problem and irrefutably set the expectation that we were going to do better. I reviewed the situation clearly, without blame, and proposed a solution that demonstrated an understanding of each professional’s area of expertise & their role in care delivery.
I requested one collaborative weekly meeting with every leader from across all areas of the care team. I secured the conference room at the nursing home & arranged for a dial in line for anyone who couldn’t be there in person. I sent out detailed agendas and required each care professional to designate a proxy with similar authority, if they were unable to attend. I promised these meetings would reduce work for everyone and was hyper organized to ensure I could deliver on my word.
When someone knows what they are talking about and demonstrates that they also know how to do it, it inspires us to help them. And, thankfully, that’s exactly what happened as each member of the care team agreed to the plan and we began our weekly cadence.
The Art of Being Present
Anytime a large group of experts get together, there are bound to be differences of opinion. My mother’s weekly care team meetings were no exception. Each participant was a leader in their respective field and I was simply a family member of one of their many patients who had set myself at the head of the table.
But, I am a student of human behavior. So, when all the research and planning and preparation are complete, my goal is to get present and attuned to the actual human beings around me. If you pay close enough attention, you’ll find that all conversations have a rhythm to them. Like musical themes or tones that pull the dialogue along help you connect to the people behind the words.
Staying present in the fullness of the conversation allowed me to notice these subtleties and helped me facilitate dialogue that got the most out of every discussion for all participants. I learned that the Director of Nursing liked to receive information in writing after the call so it could be disseminated more easily to the nursing staff and that the Hospice Physician responded to self-reported pain scale changes more quickly than to personal stories about pain breakthroughs. I was able to read the room and move the conversation forward when we were losing everyone’s attention and slow us down when someone’s point needed more detail to be fully understood.
I did all these things imperfectly, clumsily, and most of the time while terrified.
I maintained the appearance of a calm presence by focusing on the importance of our task & the necessity of my ability to lead the effort of these truly talented resources to achieve it.
In the end, through their tremendous efforts, our plan worked. My mother spent her final months visiting with family, looking through old picture albums, telling stories, making voice recordings, & creating so many beautiful memories for all of us. When my mother left this world, she was free from pain.
We had accomplished her goals.
I owe a lot in my career to executive presence. I’ve accomplished many things professionally by leveraging the ability to stare challenge in the face, gently smile, and calmly greet it in a way that stokes confidence and inspires others to rally together. But, to me, executive presence will always serve as a reminder that what we learn in one area of life has applications in all of them.
That that the people in our lives need all of us – even the parts we think don’t fit. Even the realms of life where we are not the expert, need us to offer the ways in which we are. Because it’s our presence – your presence – that matters most.
