In our example, Patty spoke clearly and confidently, she commanded the room, but she also read it. I dare say Patty’s emotional intelligence is as off the chart as her charisma.Ĭommunication is also paramount to executive presence. She empathized with our busy lives, understood our challenges and shared some of hers. She spoke truth to power by hitting our membership shortcomings head-on with brutal honesty and integrity, yet she left us inspired, not defeated. Patty was able to show teeth by addressing our group’s shortcomings. It was her most crucial moment as National President, yet she handled being late with grace. She was cool under pressure, flying in late for a meeting she worked for months to plan, organize, and execute. In her book, Hewitt wrote that 67 percent of your EP depends on it, and Patty has serious gravitas. What qualities do you have, and which do you need to gain?įor instance, gravitas is fundamental. The three dimensions are not equal in importance, but one of the first steps to build EP is to understand what these three areas entail. In her book, “Executive Presence,” and her extensive research while at the Center for Talent Innovation, CTI (now Coqual), Sylvia Ann Hewlett broke EP into three areas gravitas, communication, and appearance. Luckily, you don’t have to be born with EP. You won’t get far in your career without it. In her book, “EP,” leading researcher Sylvia Ann Hewlett said that executive presence is “an amalgam of qualities that telegraphs that you are in charge or deserve to be.” As a leader you want that, and you need it. She’s a great example of that “it” factor that’s hard to put your finger on, but we know it when we see it. Today, I know that Patty has exceptional executive presence, or EP. Be funny! Why aren’t I funny?” I wasn’t sure what it was about Patty that was so enthralling, but I knew I wanted it, big time. Afterwards I remember looking down at my outfit thinking, “Why the heck did I wear this dumb thing? I’ll burn it when I get home, and I need to use bigger words. Through the gates of hell, you say? We were ready to march. We laughed, we cried, we fell in love with Patty. We learned her plans to galvanize our membership initiatives, which had waned in recent years. She empathized with our mutually busy lives and told us how she balanced her own. Her flight delays left her no time to prep, primp, or perfect, but she didn’t need it. She reminded us why our mission is vital and how we could succeed, and she encouraged us to reach beyond our expectations we could be or do anything. She was enchanting as she told us about herself, and energizing and motivating as she told us her ideas for our organization. She was funny and apologetic as she regaled us with her travel woes getting to Chicago. She immediately addressed our group without sitting down, and her voice, demeanor, her presence was captivating. Her name was Patty, our President, a pharmacist from South Dakota. The coat’s absence revealed the most stunning, perfect for the occasion outfit ever, and yes, it was expertly tailored. Was that fairy dust sparkling in her wake? She tossed off that fabulous coat like it was nothing, ready to get down to business. Heads turned, wide eyes followed as she glided toward the head table. The newcomer strode briskly past the attendees. The cacophony in the ballroom faded to total silence. Her shiny hair bounced like waves on the ocean, her magnificent coat - oh that coat - billowed above the floor. Suddenly, the elaborate ballroom doors opened and in floated the most incredible woman I’d ever seen. So, we made polite small talk, which became loud and more boisterous as time stretched on for nearly an hour. The ED told us to chat among ourselves as we waited. She would join us directly from the airport, not even stopping to check into her room. Soon, the organization’s Executive Director, an older woman who’d held the post for four decades, and projected an air of absolute authority, summoned our attention from the head table. I scrutinized the room and thought I looked pretty good I was young but holding my own in this esteemed group. I wore the best outfit I owned, trying to be respectful to the organization, my chapter, and in tune with the three-day meeting’s semi-formal atmosphere. We were seated in a gilded ballroom at tables of 10, all of us well turned-out. ![]() ![]() I was excited to represent my group, and I was especially looking forward to the opening session, a luncheon to hear the National President welcome us. ![]() There were hundreds of members from across the country, each of us Presidents-Elect for our local chapters, gathered one cold and dreary February afternoon at the posh Drake Hotel overlooking Lake Michigan in Chicago. I was attending the national meeting for the American Medical Association Alliance, Confluence, a fitting title.
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