Photo: Paul Morigi/Getty Images for Capital Concerts
I try not to forget. Working closely with Colin Powell taught lessons, some simple, some complex. He was a good man, a true leader. Why? He understood leadership is more than management, energy, or direction; it is about holding yourself to a standard, stepping up, and caring about people.
Stories are the best way to remember. He did that; he told stories. He lived a full life: Army for 35 years, Vietnam, Ronald Reagan’s National Security Advisor, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, Secretary of State, but also grew up in New York City, and joked he was a “C” student.
He gave people second chances, set the bar high, expected you to reach for it, keep reaching. As a young military officer, he misplaced his sidearm; it could have been career-ending. He confessed to his commanding officer. The officer pulled open a desk drawer, took Powell’s sidearm out, and handed it to him. “Do not let that happen again.” Powell never did, knew second chances can be life-changing.
Humor was part of his brand of leadership; he built a team with it. Powell could be serious; often was. We dealt with Iraq, Afghanistan, Kosovo, Colombia, the World…but he inspired loyalty with humor.
We were in Mexico, a top US team meeting the Mexican leaders. I had hardly been assistant secretary a month, and was getting used to his cadence. He was introducing cabinet members and his team to a large room. He introduced me as “Bobby Ray Charles.”
Now, Ray Charles was a brilliant, black jazz pianist. But Ray was not my middle name. In a quiet moment, I told the Secretary. He smiled and put his arm around me, “I know, Bobby.” He thought it was funny. So did I. From then on, I was “Bobby Ray” to Powell, and he had my undying loyalty.
On another occasion, in Spain, I was playing hooky from a boring plenary session, went to the Prado Museum, looked around, and bought some gifts for my family. I soon found myself sitting with him in the lead car of our convoy and had to confess. He loved it; it was all about family.
Some of his wisdom was nonverbal: caring about others, accepting responsibility, rewarding hard work, and the reverse for slackers. If he trusted you and you delivered, he trusted you with more.
Some wisdom was verbal. “Every decision you will ever make, and every one you have ever made, was made with incomplete information; you still have to make the decision.” He trusted us to do that. The second- and third-order effects of a non-decision can be as significant. “If wrong, fix it.”
Be prepared, have confidence, give truth to power (“Be the skunk at the garden party”), admit mistakes, do not let ego get wrapped into things, and “perpetual optimism is a force multiplier.”
He modeled good listening, wanting problems, door open, but also wanted us to solve as many ourselves as possible – and gave us authority. Being liked was the result of leadership, not the objective. “Trying to get everyone to like you is a sign of mediocrity.”
That perspective reminds me of Winston Churchill: “So you have enemies, good. It means you have stood for something in your life.” Powell had friends for the same reason.
Powell loved kids, had a way of helping them; his actions focused on the future; he was convinced it was bright – or could be. It mattered, not the past. “None of us can change our yesterdays, but all of us can change our tomorrows.” He founded “America’s Promise” for kids.
He was other-regarding, but worked hard himself to achieve objectives, to what he could every day, even on bad days. “Freedom to do your best means nothing unless you are willing to do your best” and “Dreams do not become reality by magic; they take sweat, determination, and hard work.”
The idea of service involves turning into the wind, doing hard stuff with a big heart, striving to complete the good mission, working to get outcomes, and taking personal responsibility. “Never let your ego get so close to your position that when your position goes, your ego goes with it,” he warned – and modeled that. He took nothing personally, and that was saying a lot.
What mattered most in leadership? Caring about people, focusing, hard work, resilience, taking nothing personally, inspiring others to their best, being supportive, good attitude, self-awareness, earning trust. That might have been the biggest one. “Trust is the essence of leadership.”
Taken together, the key is stepping up. He is gone, but his lessons continue. Once a year, I visit Arlington, the gravesites of friends and family, and his. We talk. I tell him I am stepping up. In the silence, he reminds me it matters. I try not to forget. With his life service, he reminds us all.

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