I've always heard the phrase:
“Trust, but verify.”
I'm pretty good at the trust part.
It's the verify part I tend to forget.
When I give someone a responsibility, I generally trust them to do it.
I explain what I need, hand it over, and move on to the next thing.
And there is always a next thing.
My assumption has always been:
"If they have a question, they'll ask me."
That sounds reasonable.
But I'm learning there's a little flaw in that system.
Sometimes people don't know what they don't know.
They can't ask a question they don't know they need to ask.
And sometimes the person doing the delegating—that would be me—doesn't realize how much information is still sitting inside her own head.
So maybe the saying needs one more word.
Trust. Teach. Verify.
Success Can Still Teach Us Something
We just finished our Lasso Your Imagination fundraiser for the Dolly Parton Imagination Library.
And it was a huge success.
The crowd seemed to have a wonderful time.
The food was great.
We've received so many compliments.
People laughed, played bingo, bid on auction items, visited with friends, and helped us raise money to put books into the hands of children in our community.
From a guest's perspective, the evening went remarkably well.
And I'm very proud of that.
But here's something I've learned about events:
The people attending an event experience the evening. The people producing the event experience everything happening behind it.
Those are two very different experiences.
Behind every successful event are hundreds of little decisions.
Things happen.
Something isn't where you thought it would be.
The schedule gets a few minutes off.
Someone needs an answer.
Something you thought was finished still needs attention.
You make a decision and keep moving.
Most of the time, the guests never know.
That's actually the goal.
And afterward, you get to ask:
"Okay. What did we learn?"
Having Someone in the Room Isn't the Same as Teaching Them What You Know
This year I intentionally involved more people in the upper levels of planning Lasso.
More people attended our dinner planning meetings.
More people were involved in decisions.
More responsibilities were shared.
I wanted more people to understand how the event works.
And I'm glad I did.
But afterward, I realized something about myself as a leader:
Having someone in the room isn't the same as teaching them what you know.
I have been involved with this event long enough that I know things I don't even realize I know.
I know certain things because something went wrong three years ago.
I know something else because we tried it one way and discovered another way worked better.
I anticipate certain problems because I've seen them before.
And during the event, I make decisions without necessarily stopping to think about why I know what to do.
That's experience.
The problem with experience is that it's difficult to delegate.
You can't say:
"Here. I'm giving you ten years of experience. Let me know when you've got it."
Wouldn't that be convenient?
Instead, experience has to be transferred a little at a time.
And I realized this year that I need to do a better job of that.
I'm Still Learning Too
Here's the other thing.
I'm certainly not an expert event planner.
Every year I learn something new.
Every year something happens that has never happened before.
Every year I think:
"Next year, we need to..."
And that's okay.
We don't have to become experts before we can teach someone else.
Maybe we simply need to be willing to say:
"Here's what I know so far."
"Here's what worked."
"Here's what didn't."
"Here's what surprised us."
"And here's what we're going to do differently next time."
Then we document it.
Because if the lesson stays only in my head, we're going to have to learn it again.
And preferably not at 8:15 on Friday night with 400 people in the building.
People Can't Ask Questions About Things They Don't Know Exist
This may be the biggest lesson for me.
I've always believed that when I give someone a responsibility, they should come to me if they need help.
I still believe that.
But I'm realizing that's only part of the equation.
Sometimes a person genuinely believes everything is handled.
So do I.
Until we discover that we each had a different picture of what “handled” meant.
That's where verification comes in.
Verification isn't mistrust.
It's communication.
It can be as simple as:
"Let's look at this together on Wednesday."
"Send me an update when these three pieces are finished."
"Let's walk through the room before the event."
"Show me where we are on this."
That's not micromanaging.
That's creating checkpoints.
And checkpoints are particularly helpful for someone like me because once I've delegated something...
my brain has already moved on.
Probably to something completely unrelated.
There's a Difference Between Checking and Taking Back
This is important too.
If I check on something and discover it's not quite right, my first response shouldn't always be:
"I'll do it."
That's not teaching.
Sometimes the better response is:
"Here's what we're missing. What do you need to finish it?"
Then let the person finish it.
That's how people learn.
We understand this beautifully with children.
In a Montessori classroom, we don't expect a child to know how to use a material simply because we put it on the shelf.
We give a lesson.
We demonstrate.
The child practices.
We observe.
We redirect when necessary.
Then the child tries again.
Eventually, they don't need us.
That's independence.
Maybe developing adults isn't entirely different.
The Goal Isn't to Get Rid of the Work
I've also been thinking about what delegation is actually supposed to accomplish.
The goal can't simply be:
Get this off Kaye's plate.
Although there are days when that sounds wonderful.
The bigger goal is to build other capable people.
If all I'm doing is getting rid of a task, I can hand it over.
If I'm developing another person, I need to do more.
Teach.
Explain.
Let them try.
Check.
Give feedback.
Let them try again.
And gradually...
check less.
That's slower in the beginning.
But eventually, something wonderful happens.
Someone else knows how to do something that used to exist only in your head.
That's how organizations grow.
That's how leaders grow.
And that's how knowledge survives beyond one person.
Your Challenge for the Week
Think about something you've delegated—or something you'd like to.
Ask yourself:
Have I explained what success actually looks like?
Have I taught what I know, or have I assumed they know it?
Have we established a time to check progress?
Am I giving them enough freedom to figure some things out themselves?
And finally:
When something doesn't work, am I fixing it—or teaching from it?
That last question may be the most important one.
A Lesson I'm Still Learning
Lasso reminded me that successful doesn't mean perfect.
Actually, I don't know that I've ever seen a perfect event.
What I saw this year was a room full of people having a good time and supporting a cause I care deeply about.
I saw people working hard.
I saw problems solved.
I saw decisions made.
I saw things happen behind the scenes that most of our guests never noticed.
And afterward, I saw a list of things we can do even better next year.
That's not failure. That's growth.
The challenge for me now is making sure those lessons don't stay in my head.
I need to teach them.
Write them down.
Build systems around them.
And next year, involve people again.
Maybe involve them even more.
Because the goal isn't for me to become indispensable.
The goal is to help other people become capable.
And that requires more than trust.
Final Thought
Trust people.
Give them opportunities.
Let them make decisions.
Give them room to grow.
But remember:
Trust doesn't eliminate the need for communication.
Teach what you know.
Explain what success looks like.
Create checkpoints.
Ask questions.
Verify.
And when something doesn't go perfectly, don't immediately look for someone to blame.
Ask:
“What can we learn from this?”
Then make sure the lesson doesn't disappear.
Write it down.
Teach it to somebody else.
Make the system better.
And try again.
Because sometimes the difference between an experienced leader and a developing leader isn't that one never makes mistakes.
It's that one has already made a whole collection of them...
and hopefully remembers to teach somebody else what she learned.
I'm working on that.
Especially the verify part.
References
- Sharma, Robin. The Everyday Hero Manifesto. HarperCollins, 2021.
- Exodus 18:17–23.
- Luke 16:10.
- Proverbs 27:17.
- Ephesians 4:11–12.
- 2 Timothy 2:2.
Remember... life isn't changed by one big decision. It's changed by the little decisions we make every day. Today's small choices become tomorrow's legacy. So choose wisely, love deeply, keep learning, and keep growing. Until next Monday, have a wonderful week... and keep building your legacy, one small choice at a time.