Colin Powell: Kindness Works

Many years ago I was the warden—the senior lay­person—of a small suburban Episcopal church in northern Virginia. During that time, the bishop assigned to our parish an elderly priest, in some kind of distress and in need of a parish, to serve as an assistant pastor. I never knew the ­nature of his problem. We just welcomed him into the church, treated him as one of us, and ministered to him, just as we ministered to one another. He was with us for a year. On his last Sunday, he was assigned the ­sermon. As he finished, he looked out over the congregation and with a smile on his face quietly concluded, “Always show more kindness than seems necessary, ­because the person receiving it needs it more than you will ever know.” That sentence hit me with a special force that has remained with me for four ­decades. His lesson was clear: Kindness is not just about being nice; it’s about recognizing another human being who deserves care and respect.

Much later, when I was secretary of state, I slipped away one day from my beautiful office and vigilant security agents and snuck down to the garage, where ­the employees were immigrants and ­minorities making minimum wage.

The attendants had never seen a secretary wandering around the ­garage before; they thought I was lost. They asked if I needed help getting back “home.” I told them no. I just wanted to chat. After a while, I asked them a question about their jobs that had puzzled me. Because the ­garage was too small for all the employees’ cars, the attendants had to stack cars one behind the other. “When the cars come in every morning, how do you decide whose car is the first to get out, and whose ends up second or third?”

They gave each other knowing looks and little smiles. “Mr. ­Secretary,” one of them said, “it goes like this: When you drive in, if you lower the window, look out, smile, or know our name, you’re number one to get out. But if you look straight ahead, don’t show you see us or that we are doing something for you, well, you are likely to be one of the last to get out.” At my next staff meeting, I shared this story with my senior leaders. “You can never err by treating everyone in the building with respect, thoughtfulness, and a kind word,” I told them. It ain’t brain surgery. Every person in an organization has value and wants that value to be recognized. Everyone needs appreciation and reinforcement. Taking care of employees is perhaps the best form of kindness.

Being kind doesn’t mean being soft. When young soldiers go to basic training, they meet a drill sergeant who seems to be their worst nightmare. They are terrified. But all that changes. The sergeant is with them ­every step of the way, teaching, cajoling, enforcing, bringing out the strength and confidence they didn’t know they had. When they graduate, they leave with an emotional bond they will never forget. Ask any veteran the name of his drill sergeant and he will know it. (My ROTC camp drill sergeant almost 55 years ago was Staff Sgt. Artis Westberry.)

I believe that if you develop a reputation for kindness, even the most unpleasant decisions will go down easier. People will realize that your decision must be necessary and is not arbitrary or made without ­empathy. As the old saying goes, “To the world, you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world.”