Painting A Clear Picture of Expectations and Terms

I was in charge of producing a video and ran into some problems with our Camera Guy (who, originally, was our Sound Guy and Editor Guy, as well). This was a small, low-budget project and the founder of the company had told me to use this man. There were problems from the outset.

For example, Camara Guy felt the project to be his personal territory. He didn't really want to collaborate. Also, Camara Guy behaved somewhat like a Prima Don. He did not return phone calls promptly, did not know how to schedule the shoots. And, because he was "cutting the company a deal," he did not want to provide a date certain as to when the video would be completed. Whenevahhhhh just doesn't fly. He wanted to film our cast members being interviewed in an office talking about the organization because it was the most convenient use of his time. Boring. And ... blechhhh!

So ... I shared my frustrations with our CEO. He told me that he fully supported whatever decision I made as to whether or not I keep Camera Guy on board. I decided to let him go. I called Camera Guy to set up a meeting. I planned to meet him at the ubiquitous Starbucks Coffee, rather than at a restaurant, so I didn't have endure the longish process of menu gazing, ordering, eating, etc.

Driving to the meeting, my stomach was doing flip-flops. A few miles from our meeting place, Camera Guy called. "Jennifer, I haven't eaten all day. Do you think we can meet at that Mexican restaurant on the corner instead?" Hmm. Well ... I couldn't fire him on an empty stomach. That would be cruel. My clever pain-avoidance strategy flew the coop. Yes, I could have said, "No," and probably will next time, but I didn't. Sigh.

To make matters worse, when I arrived, he was overjoyed to see me ... gave me a big hug ... had his laptop ready and waiting to show me his latest work. I thought I might throw up. An hour later, after tortilla chips and salsa, a quesadilla and a diet Coke, I told him that I didn't want him on the project. I didn't know how else to say it. It was an abrupt change of conversation, but I knew that if I didn't blurt it out, the purpose of the meeting would be lost entirely and I'd still have this BIG problem to handle.

His eyes welled up with tears. He didn't understand. And, no matter how I tried to explain what was wrong, he didn't get it. Finally, I copped out. I told Camera Guy to call the CEO, that he'd explain. Wimpy, wimpy, wimpy. We parted with Camera Guy avowing that he loved our organization and just had to be a part of this project.

I still felt like throwing up. When I returned home, I emailed our CEO immediately to tell him that I failed miserably at firing Camera Guy and deferred my responsibilities to him. I lay down on the couch and tried not to think. CEO responded with a short email, "I don't think he understood." I thought about this.

Then I went to bed. I awoke at 3 a.m. and knew exactly what to do! I realized that Camera Guy hadn't understood because I hadn't painted a clear picture from the outset of the project of my expectations and terms. I wrote the email in 10-minutes and sent it off. Here is what I wrote:

Dear Camera Guy,

Thank you for our meeting yesterday. I realized I told you what I didn’t like yesterday, but did not paint a picture of what I expect. My bad. I’ve given some thought to all of this and here is what I need from you in order to continue our working relationship:

1. A date as to when the video will be completed. I don’t want this project open-ended.

2. Your availability for shooting – 3 different options (It’s much better to ask our cast members if they are available on certain days, rather than to ask them to give me their availability for the summer.)

3. Your willingness to collaborate fully with another fabulously creative alumni, XXXX, and myself. XXXX is an expert communicator, an extremely collaborative guy, is in the film industry, and is a lot of fun to work with. I want him there with us every step of the way – creative direction, scripting, editing, and shooting.
I ask you to be very careful not to view this as your personal project. I want buy-in and collaboration in its creation. More fun, don’t you think? It’s okay if it’s “underproduced” and over the top creative and pertinent. Our market is the YouTubers, not the rich and famous.

4. I’d like you to respond quickly to my calls and emails. I don’t want to have to hunt you down.

5. You remember that you work for me, not the other way around. So, if I tell you I’m uncomfortable with something, you need to make it right, even if you do not understand my reasoning or disagree with me. I don’t have time to waste convincing you I need certain things. I will do my best to understand your needs, too. XXXX will be very helpful in this area.

6. If at all possible, another phone number whereby to reach you. Your layers of telephony, techno-Bach, being put on hold only to wait and then get a message that you are unavailable, are really frustrating and unnecessary... not good for business.

I am directing this project and my first five requests are non-negotiable. If you are amenable and fully agree to the above requests, then we can continue working together. If not, then please refund our down payment of $XXXX.00.

I copied our CEO and he replied, "Stunning!"

Camera Guy was openly relieved to know what was expected of him. He agreed to my Terms. I could see him trying hard to comply. Later on, though, he refused to collaborate and I was able to dismiss him from the project easily. All I had to do was refer to my missive, tell him he wasn't keeping his end of the bargain, and it was over.

I realized that EVERY hard spot I've been in as a leader has stemmed from my assumptions that we're all on the same page, that everyone is clear on his or her roles and from not painting a vividly clear picture of what I expect and the terms of engagement, even if they seem obvious to me. I learned that painting a clear picture of expectations and terms is KINDNESS and RESPECT for my colleagues. I'm still practicing and, sometimes in my enthusiasm or hurry-up, I forget. Inevitably, I have to retrace my steps, untangle the mess, and begin properly.