Some time ago, I had a client who suffered a disruptive, disconcerting human resources investigation. Someone on her team had filed an official complaint suggesting that she was showing favoritism and bias when dealing with her team members. The investigation took several months, impacted everyone on the team, and created a challenging and ineffective environment. A few people quit. Others were looking. In the end, the investigation resulted in a “no-fault” decision, as the interviews could not demonstrate that, in fact, she had discriminated in a particular, patterned way. Nevertheless, the team was negatively impacted by this allegation, and it further divided relationships.

I was invited to work one-on-one in a coaching relationship with this leader in the hopes that through our sessions, she might be able to reflect, self-assess, and learn from the painful experience. Especially if she didn’t knowingly treat her team individuals differently or with preference, why would they think that? Were there things that happened or things she said that were misconstrued or miscommunicated? How could there be such a gap between our intentions and how others perceive us as leaders and communicators?

The first time I met this leader, I went to see her in person. Her office, with a door, was tucked at the back of a big, open work area with many cubicles. Team members were heads-down, clicking away on their keyboards, some with headphones. Otherwise, the place was quiet. Her office door was open, and inside, there was a huge desk and a small table with a few chairs. The only place for me to sit easily was in a chair next to the table, which was at least 8 feet away from the edge of the desk. It felt very far. I admit I awkwardly kept repositioning and scooting the chair to face her, where she sat on the other side of the desk, which was strewn with papers and folders. I’m sure I was leaning forward even more awkwardly because she was just too far away for any sort of purposeful conversation. I felt a little like I was shouting across the room.

I could tell that she wasn’t super happy to have me there. I’m sure she thought that our coaching arrangement, instigated by her CEO, was punishment for post-investigation. She seemed tired and defensive right from my first question. She wasn’t on the senior team, whose members I regularly coached, but rather one level below. In truth, having an executive coach was a great opportunity for her own growth and development, and I probably thought she’d be excited. She wasn’t.

As I tried to build rapport, it wasn’t really working. She didn’t respond to my initial questions, and I certainly wasn’t going to ask her if she was a dog person or a cat person! This was a no-nonsense woman, surrounded by spreadsheets and deadlines, and I was an interruption and a mandatory exercise that didn’t seem valuable. I never let these things deter me. I dove in.

“Tell me a bit about your team,” I started. “Do you have regular team meetings or one-on-ones? How do you communicate and give feedback?”

“I have an open-door policy,” she said, looking at me blankly.

“Okay,” I replied, “keeping your door open, literally, in your office space here, could encourage folks to stop by to ask a question, but tell me a bit about how you meet for your one-on-one sessions?”

She looked at me like I was just plain stupid. “I have an open-door policy,” she said again, using the same tone.

I thought I’d try another tack. “What about team updates? How does your team get new information, learn about a change, or get feedback from you?”

“We use email,” she said, glancing over at the doorway, “and if they have questions, they can come over and just ask me.”

Got it.

Here’s the thing: an open-door policy is not enough. Even if, unlike this leader at that time, your people find your open-doorness sincere, many of them will never come to ask you. And they’ll never share their concerns, questions, or celebrations. They might walk by, glance in, and see that you are, as always, busy, so they don’t want to bother you or interrupt you. Or, if, like with this leader, they do venture a “Do you have a minute?” lead-in, anything other than a friendly “Of course!” or a “Can you give me just a few minutes to finish my focus here, and I’ll be right with you?” just won’t work. If they are met with irritation or a sense of your being “too busy,” they’re not going to do it. Nope.

We build relationships and give powerful feedback when we create a specific time and agenda for each interaction. I recommend a short, structured one-on-one where you give a “small dose” of feedback, balancing what’s going well with what needs to improve or grow. When you do this regularly, you can balance your interactions and be proactive in your communication.

In truth, this leader’s style was sometimes shy and sometimes negligent. She didn’t intend to alienate people or give the impression she didn’t care, but she did. As she began to shift the ways she communicated, simply and with purpose, her team got to know her and each other in a way that enhanced their positive, productive working relationships.

Open doors are great, but not if no one ever walks through them!

Want to know more about how to have an effective one-on-one?

Reach out to me!