The People You Overlook Reveal the Leader You Are

A couple weeks ago, I swept the street with a neighbor.

The landscapers had come through, ours, and half the block's, and left the street full of clippings and dirt. He was already out there with his broom, so I grabbed mine and joined him.

It didn't take long. It wasn't hard. It cost us nothing but a little time and a little sweat.

Nobody thanked us. The other neighbors never said a word , and I don't think they were being rude. I think they simply didn't see us. It wasn't on their radar.

We weren't doing it to be noticed, so that was fine. But it reminded me of something I've come to believe about kindness.

Most people treat kindness like a budget. Spend it here, and you'll have less to spend there. Be generous with one person and you'll have less left over for the next. So they ration it.

Kindness doesn't work like a budget. It works like a muscle.

The more you use it, the more you have. People who are stingy with kindness aren't protecting a limited supply, they're just letting the muscle go soft.

You Can't Be Kind to Someone You Don't See

I make a habit of thanking the people who keep the world running, the ones sweeping floors, cleaning bathrooms, washing windows, hauling away the garbage. But I can't thank them unless I see them first. And most of us don't. They're just people doing their jobs, so they become invisible. We look right past them.

Over the years, this has become one of the first things I watch for in a leader.

Not how they treat the people who can promote them, sign the contract, or grow their platform, anyone can be gracious to those people. I watch how they treat the person who can do nothing for them: the server, the janitor, the assistant, the driver. That one unguarded moment tells me more about someone's character than any resume ever could.

So why do we fail to be kind? I've come to think it usually comes down to three things and they're connected.

1. We Don't Value People

We assume it's their job, so why make a fuss? They're getting paid. No big deal.

But most of us know from our own experience how much a small word of appreciation changes a hard day. Being valued makes almost any work more bearable. We know this, we just forget to extend it.

For those of us who follow Jesus, there's a deeper reason to value people. He did. "By this everyone will know you are my disciples, if you love one another." We value people not because they've earned it, but because they bear the image of God and because Christ gave his life for the person mopping the floor exactly as fully as He gave it for us.

2. We Don't See People

This follows straight from the first. When we stop valuing people, we stop seeing them. They don't disappear, we go blind to them. Our attention narrows to the people we think matter: clients, friends, family, people of influence. Everyone else fades into the background.

This should trouble anyone who claims to follow Jesus, because Jesus saw everyone. He noticed Zacchaeus up in the tree while the whole crowd walked past him. He felt one desperate woman's touch in the middle of a pressing mob. He stopped for the blind beggar shouting from the roadside, the one everybody else was trying to hush. Seeing the overlooked wasn't a technique for him. It was who he was.

3. We're Not at Peace with Ourselves

This is the deepest one, and it's why the first two are so hard to fix by willpower alone.

Some people just don't have the emotional room to look outward. They're wrapped up in their own lives, quick to see what's wrong, running low. It's tempting to blame the outside world, the poor service, the people not measuring up. But the real trouble is usually inside. It's hard to be gracious to others when you're at war with yourself.

Jesus tied these together on purpose: love God and love your neighbor as yourself. That last phrase assumes something. You'll struggle to extend a grace to others that you haven't received for yourself. And notice, this isn't a call to self-improvement or self-esteem. It's the opposite.

"We love because he first loved us." The reason we can stop rationing kindness is that we've stopped trying to earn our own. When you know you're loved, you stop keeping score and you finally have enough attention left over to notice the person sweeping the floor.

Before you can truly see, value, and love other people, you have to let yourself be loved first.

Building the Muscle

In the language of emotional intelligence, there's a name for the thing I keep circling, others awareness. It's the skill of reading what another person is actually carrying, in real time.

The good news is that others awareness is a skill, not a fixed trait, which means it grows the way any muscle grows: with reps. You build it in the small, ordinary moments.

Each rep makes the next one easier. The more you use it, the more you have.

So start today, and start small. Notice one person you've been trained to walk right past.

Then go find a broom, there's usually someone already out there, and two are better than one.