Pioneers and Perfectors

Landmarks, Succession, and the People Coming After Us

A path that stays trodden doesn’t get overgrown; it stays clear for those who are coming behind. As sojourners, those marks are leading us home.

Oftentimes, in the line of succession, you don’t get to see your successors reign, feel the effects of it, or become that person’s subject.

If someone is succeeding you in your tenure as royalty in a monarchy, for example, the king is dead.

And before you, the reader, think this blog is going to be about the latest visit from foreign dignitaries to our White House, I’d like to remind you that we all have a successor. Some we hand-select and train ourselves; others are chosen for us. But we all have someone coming after us.

What Churches Remember

Lately, I’ve been visiting a lot of different churches, exploring them inside and out for an upcoming series that I’m filming. It’s part of my adventures that I can’t wait to share with the world. One thing has been the same at each church, no matter the congregation and no matter the location: each one has an emphasis on what comes after, and a special emphasis on what came before.

That is evident the moment you walk up to the church. Most old churches have graveyards just outside their doors, and what’s more, those churches often make the graveyards a feature of the church, placing them right next to a garden.

One church in particular had a school just kitty-corner from the church grave lot. It was interesting that during that particular visit, in the middle of the week, as I walked through the graveyard, I heard the sound of children playing on their campus amid the silence.

What We Inherit

I’ve been well acquainted with death for some time now; my family was inundated with it when I was just four years old. My mother, a Christian woman, had married a Muslim man, and they had given us all Muslim names. My mother would sadly die just after my fourth birthday. She would not live to see my reign. But somehow, through name and almost identical birthdates, it shaped a part of my identity in those early years.

The funny thing about succeeding your parents is that sometimes you grow up with them and think you know them well. And then the time comes when you are “old enough”—no age, no official number, just “old enough”—and you begin to see them, their values, and their leadership for what it is.

I didn’t get that chance with my mother. And the women who stepped into my life to help me through those formative years were Muslim nannies who shared with me their faith and values. Then I was sent to a Christian private school to learn more values and faith-based learning that more closely resembled my mother’s faith.

It guided a lot of discussion in my house, giving me answers for why the world was the way it was, why my family practiced the traditions that we did, and leveling my expectations of guidance from beyond the grave, often getting a response of “you’ll understand someday” when I asked about an old item of my mother’s she had left behind.

Landmarks Matter

Most people are either avoiding their final hour or are obsessed with it. I prefer to be conscious of time, but more than that, conscious of milestones and markers. I create my own landmarks. And I don’t want my children or their curious “why” to go without explanation.

I’m not referring to goals or dreams—more on that in another blog—but to purpose. If you don’t know where you are going and don’t understand why, you might just live a random life until you die.

In this graveyard, there were some huge stones, some little, and others monuments to the deceased. One thing was true of all of them: you don’t get to lay the final word over your grave. And you will be succeeded by someone who gets to make that decision. So while you are here in the land of the living, the best that you can do is make your own landmarks and try not to tear down the landmarks of your forefathers. You never know when someday you’ll understand why they did what they did. And perhaps by then, you’ll have another generation asking, “Why would they do that like that?” about your contributions or decisions.

Pioneers and Perfectors

Leadership requires a high level of competence and a mindful observation of those who have pioneered the way and those who are coming behind you. Their contributions, both before you and behind you, all tell a story—some of devastation, some of preparation—and you are that link, for better or worse.

I often tell my team at work that we are doing things for posterity, mindful that some of the reasons I first did something may need to be overruled, sunset, or given a season to breathe—possibly their last—while their effectiveness is being evaluated.

Pioneers don’t necessarily get to see all the effects of what they’ve created; they might only see a tiny bit of a ball rolling, and possibly not that. And great pioneers set something in stone for those Perfectors who will come after them.

The generation coming after them doesn’t need to be perfect, and perfection, for that matter, is not what makes a Pioneer or what makes a Perfector. Pioneers and Perfectors are who they are because they learn: learning from their own mistakes, from their predecessors’ mistakes, from those who have gone before them in different locales. They are ever mindful of time.

Perfectors often come in a line of succession, but sometimes they are not the obvious choice. They do not get the pedigree, they do not attend finishing school, and they receive no separate training. They only get the chance to see the whole landscape when in the big seat.

And with all that they learn, they must drive straight ahead, either building on or perfecting what has come before.

None of us is a pioneer entirely; we are all perfecting something that came before us. There is nothing new under the sun. And be that as it may, this Perfector is ever learning. And there is, in fact, much to learn, even as we all want for time.

Preparing the Next in Line

My direct report, the heir-apparent in my current role, has shown nothing but resilience and persistence in her work. She is not perfect, not highly pedigreed, but her heart is to learn, and every opportunity is an opportunity to learn.

We often talk about themes in my mistakes and things that I’ve learned. I share with her issues that weigh on my mind from time to time. She may never have the answers for me during my tenure in this current position; however, I share with her just the same. And I make trails for the rest of my team as well, in case, for whatever unforeseen reason, her time and tenure in my spot are short.

I think there is still learning yet for those pioneering the way for those coming after them. And that learning deeply involves both looking forward and backward and leaving instructions that share your perspective, viewpoint, and encouragement—that you are confident in their ability to lead—as well as warnings against inaction or overreacting.

Great Perfectors can become great Pioneers. If they demonstrate poise and grace as a Perfector, most likely that will be the type of Pioneer they are, and they will undoubtedly lead any organization to new heights or places it has never gone before.

But when a Pioneer cannot see beyond themselves, their eyes have effectively gone dim. They are obligated to share the vision they once had and record their memories, as well as create or explain their landmarks.

Building in the Sandbox

I have not lost my vision and pray that I pass while enjoying the fruits of my labors; however, while on my journey, I make way for those coming after me and continue enlarging my tent and table so that all who come and see me may be eyewitnesses to my character, convictions, and considerations in living and in what comes next.

The Perfectors on my team do not need to wait to create their own “landmarks,” and I encourage them to do so often while they have the space, safety, and my financial support and funding to do so. I create the sandbox, of sorts, for them to play in, but mostly it’s a learning arena where every so often I make a challenge for them to overcome.

And I do that because the arena that they will perform in next, they may not be able to see over the walls. They may not be able to tell what awaits them next in the journey, and they need to learn how to play well with others, use the resources around them, and ground down in their understanding and in what they know.

The sandbox that Pioneers create need not be in the middle of chaos, though you can learn there, too. The sandbox that Pioneers create has to be introduced in peace, with a progression of challenges.

To leave the hard tasks for outside of the sandbox would be unfavorable and an act of abandonment.

Hard tasks must make an introduction in the sandbox, because the demo of life happens there. Perhaps it is learning how to work within a team, how to build alone, or how to introduce yourself and build friendships.

When you are alone and find a sandbox, you may not necessarily have a purpose, and it becomes just free play. But when your Pioneer puts you there, there must be a challenge that at a glance looks like child’s play but in reality is the beginning of a high-rung ladder that leads to new heights, new skill sets, and new material to build with.

When you have many Perfectors in their own sandboxes, each with their own set of challenges, then you continue to build according to your vision. Great Pioneers always have multiple Perfectors—for insurance, for structure, and for foundation. But though they have many Perfectors, they are listening to each of their journeys and using the learnings to perfect their own vision and stride.

No one will ever graduate from a sandbox moment; they just grow taller, eventually tall enough to see the whole playground for what it is.

Those who are Pioneers, if they are good, work with the Perfectors while there is still time: to sandbox challenges, get fresh perspectives, enjoy objectivity, and connect the future to the past.

Legacy and the Future

That collaboration has fostered a stronger work culture, leadership, and even social systems like cities, counties, and countries. It is needed for a better tomorrow and future.

True Pioneers see all that vision and work with Perfectors to solidify their legacy while cementing their future.

The building is impossible without the two working in tandem.

And if you are that person who, like me, had a Pioneer pass away before you could ask her why things were the way they were, I encourage you to learn—learn even more. Perhaps it is just from her gravestone. Perhaps it’s her church. Perhaps it’s your predecessor’s faith. You don’t necessarily have to adopt it unless you want to see the same results that she saw, but be ready to learn and grow, because your Perfectors are still coming, and some may already be here, and they are counting on you.

While there is still breath in your lungs, and while you can still hear the children playing in the distance, look around you, see the landscape for what it is, and begin the process so that “the children”—our Perfectors, our future Pioneers—can someday see the whole playground for themselves and build upon it, with or without your presence.