Make Difficult People Disappear

How to Deal with Stressful Behavior and Eliminate Conflict

Monica Wofford

• Publisher: Wiley
• Year: 2012
• Print ISBN:
  9781118273807
• Edition: 1
• eBook ISBN:
  9781118283639
• Topic: Business
• Subtopic: Management
• Index: Business

Save your organization by building the skills to deal with difficult people

We all have to work with people we can't stand to be around. Our challenge is to find creative ways to handle these difficult people. In the fable Make Difficult People Disappear, the skills and strategic plan needed to change your mindset are told through a clear, concise story. By first understanding the four main personality types in the workplace, Commander, Organizer, Relater, and Entertainer, readers can then devise effective strategies for diffusing unproductive and damaging behavior.

This book serves to change the mindset and behavior of people who deal with difficulty on a regular basis.

• Wofford describes how through understanding our behavior differences and natural reactions to stress, that utilizing a plan based on these differences the difficulty simply seems to disappear
• Advises everyone from frustrated executives to entrepreneurs tired of dealing with difficult people who suck the life out of their organizations

Complete with a step-by-step action plan, Make Difficult People Disappear serves to replenish your confidence and build skills in leading those who until now you didn't know how to manage and felt there was no choice but to continue to deal with or ignore.

Chapter 1

BRIBES . . . in the Form of Sprinkles?

Her hand floundered around the nightstand like a fish fresh out of water in search of the source for that horribly repetitive blaring sound. Finally, a forceful smack silenced the offending alarm clock. The noise stopped and abrupt silence followed. “There is a God!” she thought as she gathered her bearings. This morning was just like all the others and, after 15 years, she knew the drill: She’d hear the alarm. She’d get up. She’d feed the dog, make the coffee, wake their son, turn on the news, and then rush to take her own shower a full half hour before Dave would realize the world had woken up. Sometimes she was jealous of his ability to sleep through what could have been an Amtrak train barreling through their bedroom, but she also knew she didn’t like the guilt that came with a late start in the morning. Anything after 6 AM was late for Cybil, even on the weekends.

But she also learned long ago that making him get up at the same time as her created a very “difficult” Dave. So she let it go, among a long list of other things that she ceased to worry about for her own sanity. It was her way of dealing with that difficulty, and she found that if she didn’t ask much of him, the difficulty seemed to disappear, at least any that was expressed verbally. What went on in her head continued to be another story, but it just never seemed to bother Dave. She was the complete opposite of him, but he took it all in stride and loved her despite the times she treated other people in a way that he just couldn’t imagine behaving.

As they did every morning, the voices in her head loudly told her to “look good under pressure” and “never let ’em see you sweat!” They swirled around as she thought of her to-do list and the international client e-mails that would have arrived during the night. Today was also the day she had to introduce the trainer for their full-day training class, “How to Make Difficult People Disappear.” She truly believed the trainer was good, capable, and a good fit. She was funny, talented, and skilled, but Cybil still balked when she’d encouraged her to attend the class all day.

The irony was that she sometimes felt her mantra was, “I see difficult people,” instead of “I see dead people” (from the movie The Sixth Sense), and she was pretty sure today would be no exception. Maybe it was because she’d shared her struggles with difficult people with this trainer, or for some other reason that the trainer convinced Cybil she needed to be in the class as an example to her team. She made it a point to emphasize how much value her attendance would have on the leadership in the organization, not to mention how much she would enjoy finding out how to make all those difficult people disappear.

“Why can’t I just introduce you, leave, and come back at lunch?” she’d nearly pleaded in the early meetings, while trying to sound merely curious.

“It will work much better if you’re there, Cybil. Otherwise, they’ll get the impression this is nothing more than the campaign of the week. They won’t do anything differently afterward. Besides, you and I both know that without rewards to entice them or consequences to deter them, people will do whatever is easiest for them. Do you remember that diagram I drew for you?” (See Figure 1.1.)

Figure 1.1 Rewards and Consequences to Motivate Performance

That was true. The leadership team always starts out with good intentions, but then, to reinforce the behavior, they have to provide continued feedback when people are getting off track.

The trainer continued, “Your being there and reinforcing the principles with your behavior will set up a reward-and-consequence system, of sorts. They’ll get positive feedback from you if they do what they learn in class and negative feedback if you see them not doing what was taught in class. If you don’t attend, you’ll send the subtle message that it really doesn’t apply to you or that you don’t support it. Isn’t there already enough us-versus-them behavior going on around here?”

“Okay, that makes sense. I’ll be there,” Cybil said, knowing the trainer was right, but it wouldn’t be easy. She felt like the us in that “us-against-them” phrase was really “them against her” on some days.

Oh, the things she did for these people! The sacrifices she made for this team in trying to change, mold, modify, and grow! Why didn’t they all just get it? Like now! Why did the people she lead seem to need so much hand-holding from her? “Just do your job! Get it done and stop the whining!” she thought. Then again, she also knew most of them worked hard. A lot had changed in the industry, and some team members resented it and were acting out. Some of them had become difficult, and she had shared as much with the trainer in their first meeting. She mentioned that she had a team member who was consistently negative and that no matter her best efforts to bond, be chatty, or build a rapport with this person, he seemed to walk around with a black cloud hanging over him.

She was running out of ideas for how to handle his sullen behavior. When during their first conversation the trainer gave her immediately applicable advice to combat the problem, Cybil decided to bring her in to train the entire team. The trainer told her to stop habitually saying “Hello, how are you?” to certain stressed-out people whom she knew would always answer negatively. Instead, the trainer suggested that she “just say hello and walk away.” This little piece of advice made Cybil laugh out loud. How could something so simple make any difference? But she began to try this approach, and somehow, instead of her morning being filled with the 10 minutes of negative feedback she braced for daily, that difficulty disappeared.

The upcoming class was going to address this issue and others, while combining both a serious note and a sense of humor. As the trainer had told her, adults learn better when they’re laughing. Based on how easy it had been for Cybil to put into practice a simple step that made her laugh loudly, she was convinced that was true. This class was the right thing to do, even if she still thought she’d regret a day of precious time away from her other work.

By the time Cybil finished her shower, where her brain continued to work overtime with no regard for her lack of a pen and paper, she’d only added four things to her to-do list. She used a notepad she kept in the bathroom for just such occasions (and secretly wished somebody would invent an underwater writing pad). As she wrote the last item, she heard Dave rustling to life. Finally, she thought. Ben arrived then, standing in the doorway, one eye open with arms stretched wide somewhere between a yawn and a contorted yoga pose.

“Hey, Mom?”

“Yeeeessss?” Cybil was always a little fearful of what the question would be at this hour in this morning.

“Did you bake the cookies last night?”

Her hand gripped the pen a bit more tightly. “Cookies? What cookies?” she thought. “Did I bake cookies? What did I do last night? Wait, what’s today? Did he tell me he needed me to bake cookies? Today?!”

Her mind raced around looking for an answer that would work, but all of them sounded pathetic.

“I’m sorry . . . beg your pardon?” she replied, hoping maybe she misunderstood and he was talking about a girl named Cookie. Heaven forbid. Ben was only eight years old. But since she didn’t remember baking any cookies, it was worth a try to find another possibility before she flipped out.

“The cookies for the bake sale today. The one that’s gonna help us raise money for the animal shelter?” he sighed and mimicked the expression of the big-eyed Puss in Boots cat from the movies.

“You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Can’t I just give you money, Ben? I’m sorry, buddy, I don’t remember you asking me to bake cookies, but I am more than happy to make a donation directly to the animal shelter. Did you tell me you needed me to bake cookies?” Cybil was trying to sound like a concerned mom, but she realized she sounded more like a businesswoman trying to delegate.

Ben was such a charmer and so full of love, emotion, enthusiasm, and energy, but his attention span was the size of a tattoo on a gnat’s behind. She knew it was highly likely and frankly probable that he forgot to tell her and that, somewhere between leaving the school building and getting into the car yesterday, he had completely forgotten about the cookies. It would not have been a surprise, and this wouldn’t be the first time it had happened. Still, in her mind, good moms baked cookies. So this morning, she’d have to manage a workable solution and then later deal with the guilt of being a mom who worked long hours and missed these kinds of things.

“Yes, Mom, remember? I texted you yesterday.”

He was right. It wasn’t generous notice for cookie baking, but it was notice. She had completely forgotten the message that came in between a conference call, an interview, and an instant message from her boss. Cybil, master multitasker, had forgotten the message from her cute son who just needed some cookies. Surely June Cleaver wouldn’t have missed that message. Heck, she didn’t even work outside the house or have a phone or a boss! But what kind of mother puts an interview before her son? Oh boy. That was a conversation for her to have in her head another day. The reality was that she was a good parent, just really busy and sometimes unable to get it all done, including all she expected of herself. It really bothered her when things like this happened. And it stressed her out for the rest of the day. Who knew guilt had so much power?

“Moooooooooom?” he asked, breaking the still silence, as she was contemplating a solution.

“Ben, I didn’t bake the cookies and I completely forgot your message yesterday. I’m sorry, bud, but I’ll take you to school this morning and we’ll stop by our favorite bakery and pick up some cookies for the bake sale and maybe even a treat for you. Does that sound like a plan?”

She hated to use a bribe, but sometimes a treat smoothed the disappointment. Unfortunately, though, no treat was going to soothe the fact that the bakery trip would make her late for her 8 AM meeting at the office.

“Oh, wow! Okay. Can I get the ones with the special sprinkles on top? That’ll be so cool! My cookies will be so much cooler than everyone else’s! Awesome!” and off he went. Crisis averted. She had gone from “cookie monster” to “cool cookie mom” in a matter of moments. The next fire drill would be the call to her boss about the meeting and whatever excuse she could make up for being late. She wondered whether this one would be that easy and whether her boss might respond the same way if she mentioned “sprinkles.” The positioning or maneuvering of things seemed to be one of her specialties.

To save time, her normally “big hair” went into an elegant clip, and within minutes of the cookie news she walked down the hall in search of Ben’s choice for today’s wild outfit. Bake sale or not, he was not allowed to wear some of his outfit choices in public. Hopefully, he had chosen something that would bore her instead of bowl her over with laughter.

After outfit inspection, a quick meal of peanut butter and toast, and a kiss on the cheek to her freshly showered husband (who always seemed to be perplexed at the whirlwind Cybil created), they hopped in the car and headed to the bakery. As they pulled out of the driveway, she thought it would have been nice if Dave had made them breakfast instead of sleeping late.

As he watched them drive away, Dave thought it would have been nice if he’d let her wake up in peace instead of faced with the tornado in her brain that she seemed to consistently create and feel compelled to share.

She called her boss and gave a creative, but not completely untrue, reason for her tardiness. She said she needed to handle a family issue that, if not handled appropriately, would create a problem for the rest of her week. In her usual fashion, she turned an emotional issue into one that made logical sense. Her boss agreed that it was the right thing for her to do. He was a husband and a father, and though he was not by any means a fluffy, warm, touchy-feely man, Cybil knew how to approach him with logic and reason. It usually worked, and she could only hope the rest of the day would allow her to focus and get a few things done.

She was focusing on her office tasks, when bright shiny lights appeared behind her.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she whispered as she made her way to the left shoulder within a block of the bakery. License and registration in hand, she hit the window button and nearly hung it out the window for the officer.

“Ma’am. Do you know why I pulled you over?”

“Honestly, I have no idea, but I’m sure you had a great reason. I’m on the way to Beth’s Bakery and my son needs cookies and I have an 8 AM meeting and I’m running a little late this morning. Lots to do, but I’ll try to be more careful, Officer. I am in a rush, so if you don’t mind us working through this quickly, I’d appreciate it.”

Sometimes she stunned even herself with her no-fear, get-it-done approach. Did she really just essentially tell an officer to make it snappy? Good grief.

“Well ma’am. If you’ll give me a few minutes I’ll see what I can do. Certain...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Contents
• Title
• Copyright
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction
• Author’s Note on Sources
• Chapter 1: Bribes . . . in the Form of Sprinkles?
• Chapter 2: Shifts . . . in Your Expectations
• Chapter 3: Labels . . . That Actually Make Sense
• Chapter 4: Maps . . . Showing Where Others Can Go before Being Told
• Chapter 5: Praise . . . without Pom-Poms Unless That’s What They Need
• Chapter 6: Clues . . . That You Can Finally Hear
• Chapter 7: Hope . . . in What Others Intend Despite What They Do
• Chapter 8: Wheels . . . of Motion Not Attached to a Bus
• Chapter 9: Habits . . . That Help You Be You and Let Them Be Them
• Conclusion
• Appendix
• About the Author