Martie L. Moore, RN, MAOM, CPHQ

The leaves were singing to me, shimmering in the sunlight of the cool mountain air. I had been asked to speak at a conference and decided to fly in the day before and head to the mountains to see the quaking Aspens in their full glory of fall color beforehand. 

I had camera in hand as I hiked. As I walked along the riverbank, I came upon a woman who sat behind an easel. The scene was perfect, golden leaves, an old, abandoned homestead in the distance with the river in the forefront. 

I greeted her and asked if I could see her painting. She put her brush down and invited me to step around the easel to see the painting. I was excited to see how she had captured the scene before us. I wondered if she had highlighted the leaves or the river as the point of interest? I quickly thought, maybe she pulled the old homestead out to be more pronounced as if to tell the story of long ago. My level of excitement rose as I stepped around the easel. 

Photo Credit: Martie Moore

If you want to know what I am thinking, just look at my face. I have my emotional reaction gas gauge right there for all to see. As I peeked around the easel, my face went from full excitement with anticipation to sheer shock. The artist was watching and asked very quietly, “What were you expecting?”

What was I expecting? I was expecting duplication of what I was seeing. I was expecting my mental image of the scene to be painted on the canvas. Not only expecting but wanting to see what I wanted to see. The artist asked me again, what was I expecting? I let out a breath and said, “Leaves, trees, water, maybe an old building.” 

What I was seeing was abstract, loud and unfamiliar. The artist apologized that I was disappointed but shared that this was the first time she could paint in color. Her mother had died, and grief had overwhelmed her to the point that when she went to paint, she only saw gray. She saw no color; she was unable to paint. Sitting in the sun, listening to the leaves sing, she saw color, wanted to paint color. She was healing. 

Later, as I drove back down the mountain, I reflected on the day. I had put the artist into a box of my own making. I assumed that she saw what I saw. She had seen so much more than what was before her. The artist saw through the pain of grief, found a ray of hope and the desire for healing. 

I was up standing to the side of the stage, ready to be introduced, when it hit me. What I had done to the artist is what we do every day as leaders. We put people into our mental boxes. If they do not fit neatly, we influence the environment through our actions, so they do. I asked the question to the audience; do you feel 100% accepted and supported in your place of employment? 

Not one person raised their hand.

The crux to the lack of hands was, I stipulated that they need to feel 100% supported. When I I asked what they felt, many shouted out percentages such as 80 or, my favorite, 92.3%, feeling of acceptance and support. But 100% was elusive to all sitting there that day.

When I asked how many would stay with an employer who 100% accepted and supported them as a talented individual? Every hand went up in the audience. 

Every hand went up.

Martie L. Moore, MAOM, RN, CPHQ, is the President/CEO of M2WL Consulting. She has been an executive healthcare leader for more than 20 years. She has served on advisory boards for the National Pressure Injury Advisory Panel and the American Nurses Association, and she currently serves on the Dean’s Advisory Board at the University of Central Florida College of Nursing and Sigma, International Honor Society for Nursing. She was honored by Saint Martin’s University with an honorary doctorate degree for her service and accomplishments in advancing healthcare.

The opinions expressed in McKnight’s Long-Term Care News guest submissions are the author’s and are not necessarily those of McKnight’s Long-Term Care News or its editors.