Hey, who's the Straw Boss here?
Yesterday I helped prepare a community fundraising supper for the first time in many years. The event has a great reputation and reception in the community, and for good reason. The event works because of the people, the ones who have been there for years. The food is great, and so is the community that shows up to make it happen.
Since I last helped, the organizers have added an online sign-up portal, which really helps. I arrived early, found the paper sign-in sheet, and prepared to contribute. I looked for the Straw Boss, someone to point me in the right direction, but people were already moving, already working. So I found my own way in.
After a little searching I landed the role of Sour Cream Cup Filler Master alongside another parent I've known for years. As my readers would expect, I watched and observed while getting that creamy milk product portioned. What I saw was impressive.
Experienced volunteers were simply doing their jobs, jobs they've done for years, with quiet efficiency. Teams tackled each task with purpose: filling cups, mixing salad, crafting the "secret" seasoning mix, preparing the meat. Tasks got done not because anyone assigned them, but because experienced people knew what to do and others followed. Call it the osmotic transfer of knowledge, it's something to admire.
But as I watched, one thing stood out by its absence, one thing this organization is famous for teaching and celebrating: A LEADER.
I watched newcomers walk in excited to help, ready to contribute, only to stand at the edge of the activity, uncertain where to jump in. No one greeted them, not because anyone was unwilling, but because everyone was heads-down in their own task. Eventually they found a place to be useful. They figured it out. But that moment of hesitation, that's where a leader pays dividends.
As my partner and I filled our cups, a fair amount of time was spent debating how many we needed. Was 350 enough? Then 400. Then 450 became the magic number. In the end we filled 449 cups, stopping only when the last sour cream container emptied. Across the aisle, the sauce fillers had the same conversation independently, 350, then 400. Not long after cleanup started, someone came in noting there weren't enough sauce cups and too many sour creams.
Well duh.
I knew that. I filled them.
The supper preparation was a success, let me be clear about that. This was NOT a disaster, not even close. The food prep was on point, the energy was good, and the community will be well fed. But I sat there mulling over the leadership training I've seen modeled both in this organization and others, and I kept coming back to one thought: how much better might it have gone with one person in a coordinating role? Not critiquing, not teaching, just ensuring the right hand knew what the left hand was doing.
A leader to say: we need 400 of these, and these folks will help you get there. A leader to welcome newcomers who were excited to help but unsure where to start. A leader to see where a good process could be made even better.
How many times do "leaders" feel the need to do the work themselves, convinced no one else can do it quite right? It happens everywhere. I've done it. You've done it. Everyone has.
Writing this reminds me of the 4-H motto: Make the Best Better. Yesterday's preparation was already pretty good. A leader in that room could have made it great.