By Jack Cumming

This won’t surprise you. The toughest job in senior living is not the highest-paid position, nor the one with the most recognition. Except for standalone communities, it’s not even a job in which the incumbent has the freedom to excel. You’ve guessed it. The toughest job in senior living is that of the executive director.

Sandwich Leaders

EDs, as they are affectionately known, are expected to keep the residents happy while pleasing their bosses up the hierarchy ladder. The truism, “You can please some of the people all of the time, you can please all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time,” is attributed to a chap named John Lydgate. More germane is its applicability to EDs caught in the middle between upper echelon experts and residents and their families, who are the mission.

Like a higher-paid corporate CEO, EDs have full responsibility for the success or failure of the community they lead. They are expected to be on call 24/7, every day of the year without exception. The responsibility is unrelenting. Wouldn’t you think that the ED job should be the highest-paying job in senior living? Too often, it’s embedded within a hierarchy with elevated supernumeraries better rewarded for less responsibility.

Courageous Sharing

This disconnect came to mind recently when reading a courageous LinkedIn posting from Kent Mulkey. What Kent had to say is something that needs to be heard. Here’s an excerpt:

Several years ago, I resigned from an executive director job because of severe insomnia and panic attacks. I was not able to juggle all of the balls of running a large senior living campus.

It was one of the lowest points in my life and career. The other was the 6 months I did not and could not work, mainly because I was afraid to leave the house. There were days I could barely get out of bed, shower and have a cup of coffee.

Talk about feeling like a failure. I was ashamed and wondered if I would ever feel normal again.

For months on end, I tried to show the world that I was “just fine.” I continued to apply and interview for jobs. But when the time came to consider an offer, I backed out. The reality was that I was not ready. Not even close.

Finally, I told my friends and family what was really happening inside me. I got professional help from a counselor and a medical doctor. I even started to take walks …. outside!

Thank you, Kent. We expect Marines and EDs to be perfect and to never stumble or show vulnerability. That’s not a reasonable expectation for either calling. Lately, we recognize that sometimes even Marines have post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), but we still hold EDs to an incredibly high standard. By the way, Kent got help, and he’s doing just fine now.

How to Respond

There are two ways to respond to Kent’s cogent observation on the industry’s most important job. One is to voice sympathy. A therapist once taught me that saying something like, “That must have been very difficult,” and then listening is an okay response. My natural response is to go into problem-solving mode instead of empathetic listening mode.

Here are my problem-solving ideas now that we’ve got empathy out of the way.

• Recognize that the ED is a CEO and make every community a standalone business supported by a service organization. LCS™ and others provide management support to standalone enterprises. Supporting a local franchise is different from owning and controlling it. Also, the standalone ED can benefit from a supportive board instead of being subordinate to a regional vice president.
• Flatten the organization to give EDs more freedom of action without excessive oversight. Get rid of the hierarchy, most of it, and have the EDs report directly to the CEO through a circle of peers. The peers would be the group of EDs who similarly report directly to the CEO.
• Last is to give each ED a life-work coach from outside the enterprise. This may be a possibility that can evolve with AI. If you haven’t tried Slingshot’s ASH counselor, you should. If you’re skeptical, try it. It’s free for now, and it’s surprisingly cogent. Sometimes all you need in a stressful situation is an objective voice to clarify your thinking, restore your self-confidence, and get you back in the groove again.

Talent is the key to senior living. There are few other callings that require so much giving and so little taking as the role of ED. Note to industry moguls: Can you keep your ego in tact and still facilitate a transition that elevates local talent while changing from control to support? If so, you have greatness in your soul.