#News

Karen Demanded My ID—Didn’t Realize I’m Her Boss’s Boss!

Lessons from the Lobby: Leadership, Humility, and the Value of First Impressions

On a crisp, quiet morning, dressed in khakis, a polo, and sneakers rather than my executive suit, I strode through one of our company’s bustling regional campuses. My only accessories: a visitor badge clipped conspicuously to my belt loop and a tablet under my arm. As the newly promoted Senior Regional Director of Operations, I wanted to get a glimpse of the everyday, unscripted reality — the version of our workplace that wasn’t buffed up for high-profile executive tours. There would be a surprise audit later that day, but no one knew when or what I looked like. That was the point.

Instead of a red-carpet greeting, what greeted me was Karen.

Karen might as well have been the lobby’s living security camera, tightly wound and formidable, clipboard in one arm and a walkie-talkie in the other. She radiated efficiency — perhaps too much of it. As she barked orders to junior staff, she noticed my approach and sized me up with the kind of suspicion generally reserved for strangers carrying pizza boxes to secret government meetings.

“Excuse me,” Karen called out, sharp and unsmiling. “Where are you headed?”

Her posture said it all: In this domain, she was the gatekeeper.

“Just taking a look around,” I replied, gesturing to my visitor badge.

“That doesn’t tell me who you are,” she shot back. “You can’t wander here without proper clearance.”

“Well, I’m here for the regional review,” I offered, thinking the phrase would ring a bell — after all, every manager had received at least three memos about the surprise visit by the Senior Regional Director of Operations.

If Karen recognized the title, she didn’t show it. Instead, she demanded government-issued ID and threatened to have me escorted out if I didn’t comply. I raised an eyebrow at her tenacity. Two security officers soon approached, making it clear that things could escalate if I resisted.

The moment of revelation arrived when one officer noticed the name on my tablet’s lock screen: A. Daniels, Senior Regional Director. His demeanor shifted immediately, but Karen dismissed his concern and doubled down on protocol.

Moments later, red-faced and hurried, her supervisor Mr. Laam appeared, instantly recognizing me. “Mr. Daniels, we weren’t expecting you until later,” he stammered. Karen looked from me to her boss in horror. The power dynamic of the room shifted in a split second.

I maintained my composure, addressed both her and Mr. Laam with a smile, and gently reminded them that while protocol matters, so do respect and humility. Karen was ultimately reassigned and placed on leadership training, her rigid approach having made enough unwelcome waves already.

While the Karen episode could make for a funny executive anecdote at a future leadership summit, it actually underscores critical lessons about front-facing leadership, workplace culture, and the human side of protocols.

Gatekeepers and the Risk of “Protocol-itis”

Companies need standards and security, but a workplace becomes brittle when rules get weaponized, especially by people who forget that all customers — internal or external — deserve respect. When gatekeepers like Karen focus only on the literal script, they lose the flexibility that marks great service and great leadership. Karen didn’t stop to consider why I was there, or that “regional review” might mean something important. She didn’t doubt the merits of her protocol because, to her, protocol was the only reality.

Yet, great organizations grow when team members possess enough humility and curiosity to ask questions and enough situational awareness to adapt. I didn’t want a red-carpet experience — just authentic day-to-day snapshots, and perhaps, a bit of empathy.

Why Leadership Must Walk the Floor (Sometimes in Sneakers)

As an executive, your title often precedes you. Your presence can create an artificial environment where people “perform” for you. By leaving the entourage and the suit behind, I glimpsed how things really worked — and I saw the kind of culture being fostered when no one was watching.

It was a reminder: You can’t audit your culture from a corner office or a conference room. “Management by walking around” is more than a buzzword; it is the only way to see how processes, people, and attitudes actually mesh.

First Impressions — and the Power They Hold

Karen didn’t recognize me, but it didn’t take a nameplate for her to show her approach to leadership: inflexible, suspicious, transactional. It’s an example of how powerful first impressions are, particularly in roles that shape visitor experiences. In her mind, she was “just following orders,” but her lack of curiosity and warmth undermined the very sense of welcome our workplace strives for.

Humility is a Leader’s Greatest Protocol

The story ends not with revenge, but with a pivot to growth. Karen wasn’t fired; she was reassigned and enrolled in leadership training. It’s easy to punish, but much harder (and more productive) to coach. The incident presented her with an opportunity to learn a version of leadership that can blend rules with respect.

For me, it was a vivid case study: Titles and badges matter less than the willingness to treat others with dignity. Consistency is important. So is the ability to pivot with grace when new information arises.

Culture Isn’t Built in Boardrooms

Policies and memos may reinforce procedures, but it’s the front desk, the tension in a manager’s voice, and the willingness to listen that define a company’s heart for both its employees and visitors. Every person — not just executives — deserves respect. A little humility carries farther than the shiniest title.

The irony, of course, is that Karen’s attempt to guard the company now serves as a cautionary tale for the very culture she sought to protect. The best leaders know that sometimes the most valuable lesson comes not from those who prepare for your arrival, but from those who don’t.

As you build your own organization, ask: If a stranger walked your halls today, would your Karen greet them — or would your culture?

Lessons from the Lobby: Leadership, Humility, and the Value of First Impressions

On a crisp, quiet morning, dressed in khakis, a polo, and sneakers rather than my executive suit, I strode through one of our company’s bustling regional campuses. My only accessories: a visitor badge clipped conspicuously to my belt loop and a tablet under my arm. As the newly promoted Senior Regional Director of Operations, I wanted to get a glimpse of the everyday, unscripted reality — the version of our workplace that wasn’t buffed up for high-profile executive tours. There would be a surprise audit later that day, but no one knew when or what I looked like. That was the point.

Instead of a red-carpet greeting, what greeted me was Karen.

Karen might as well have been the lobby’s living security camera, tightly wound and formidable, clipboard in one arm and a walkie-talkie in the other. She radiated efficiency — perhaps too much of it. As she barked orders to junior staff, she noticed my approach and sized me up with the kind of suspicion generally reserved for strangers carrying pizza boxes to secret government meetings.

“Excuse me,” Karen called out, sharp and unsmiling. “Where are you headed?”

Her posture said it all: In this domain, she was the gatekeeper.

“Just taking a look around,” I replied, gesturing to my visitor badge.

“That doesn’t tell me who you are,” she shot back. “You can’t wander here without proper clearance.”

“Well, I’m here for the regional review,” I offered, thinking the phrase would ring a bell — after all, every manager had received at least three memos about the surprise visit by the Senior Regional Director of Operations.

If Karen recognized the title, she didn’t show it. Instead, she demanded government-issued ID and threatened to have me escorted out if I didn’t comply. I raised an eyebrow at her tenacity. Two security officers soon approached, making it clear that things could escalate if I resisted.

The moment of revelation arrived when one officer noticed the name on my tablet’s lock screen: A. Daniels, Senior Regional Director. His demeanor shifted immediately, but Karen dismissed his concern and doubled down on protocol.

Moments later, red-faced and hurried, her supervisor Mr. Laam appeared, instantly recognizing me. “Mr. Daniels, we weren’t expecting you until later,” he stammered. Karen looked from me to her boss in horror. The power dynamic of the room shifted in a split second.

I maintained my composure, addressed both her and Mr. Laam with a smile, and gently reminded them that while protocol matters, so do respect and humility. Karen was ultimately reassigned and placed on leadership training, her rigid approach having made enough unwelcome waves already.

While the Karen episode could make for a funny executive anecdote at a future leadership summit, it actually underscores critical lessons about front-facing leadership, workplace culture, and the human side of protocols.

Gatekeepers and the Risk of “Protocol-itis”

Companies need standards and security, but a workplace becomes brittle when rules get weaponized, especially by people who forget that all customers — internal or external — deserve respect. When gatekeepers like Karen focus only on the literal script, they lose the flexibility that marks great service and great leadership. Karen didn’t stop to consider why I was there, or that “regional review” might mean something important. She didn’t doubt the merits of her protocol because, to her, protocol was the only reality.

Yet, great organizations grow when team members possess enough humility and curiosity to ask questions and enough situational awareness to adapt. I didn’t want a red-carpet experience — just authentic day-to-day snapshots, and perhaps, a bit of empathy.

Why Leadership Must Walk the Floor (Sometimes in Sneakers)

As an executive, your title often precedes you. Your presence can create an artificial environment where people “perform” for you. By leaving the entourage and the suit behind, I glimpsed how things really worked — and I saw the kind of culture being fostered when no one was watching.

It was a reminder: You can’t audit your culture from a corner office or a conference room. “Management by walking around” is more than a buzzword; it is the only way to see how processes, people, and attitudes actually mesh.

First Impressions — and the Power They Hold

Karen didn’t recognize me, but it didn’t take a nameplate for her to show her approach to leadership: inflexible, suspicious, transactional. It’s an example of how powerful first impressions are, particularly in roles that shape visitor experiences. In her mind, she was “just following orders,” but her lack of curiosity and warmth undermined the very sense of welcome our workplace strives for.

Humility is a Leader’s Greatest Protocol

The story ends not with revenge, but with a pivot to growth. Karen wasn’t fired; she was reassigned and enrolled in leadership training. It’s easy to punish, but much harder (and more productive) to coach. The incident presented her with an opportunity to learn a version of leadership that can blend rules with respect.

For me, it was a vivid case study: Titles and badges matter less than the willingness to treat others with dignity. Consistency is important. So is the ability to pivot with grace when new information arises.

Culture Isn’t Built in Boardrooms

Policies and memos may reinforce procedures, but it’s the front desk, the tension in a manager’s voice, and the willingness to listen that define a company’s heart for both its employees and visitors. Every person — not just executives — deserves respect. A little humility carries farther than the shiniest title.

The irony, of course, is that Karen’s attempt to guard the company now serves as a cautionary tale for the very culture she sought to protect. The best leaders know that sometimes the most valuable lesson comes not from those who prepare for your arrival, but from those who don’t.

As you build your own organization, ask: If a stranger walked your halls today, would your Karen greet them — or would your culture?