What Caregivers Know About Leadership in Hard Seasons
The player grand piano, not to mention a live ensemble today, in the lobby of the radiation waiting room is an unexpected touch. Classical and jazz pieces drift into the room while a sign nearby warns, “Please don’t play the piano.” I look around and see people working on their laptops, reading, scrolling, even knitting. What I can’t see is what they may be adding up in their heads: how many treatments are left, what the side effects might be today for my loved one, how to make sure school lunches are ready, how to show up for work in the morning.
I’ve spent years coaching leaders through layoffs, hostile environments, and burnout. Now I’m writing from a comfortable chair outside the treatment rooms, doing my best to embrace whatever comes next from my husband’s soft‑tissue sarcoma. In this moment it dawns on me that the caregivers around me have been practicing a kind of trauma‑informed leadership all along. I have a lot to learn.
When people look up, their eyes go to the same place. They glance at the double doors that lead back to the treatment rooms. Nothing dramatic. We’re all just waiting.
Waiting is not passive. We’re tallying up what’s next, confirming our schedule for today and tomorrow, dealing with insurance calls and doing our best to complete our own work deadlines. Psychologists call this the caregiver’s mental load, the invisible, ongoing work of anticipating needs, tracking details and managing care. This room is a masterclass in the kind of leadership demonstrated in challenging seasons at work.
These folks make decisions with incomplete information, stay present through tense moments, notice tiny changes and do what’s necessary to keep their ‘people’ safe when nothing feels certain. These are the very same skills that hold organizations together after layoffs, reorgs and losses.
The connection between leaders and caregivers
As a leader, you and your team carry your own version of a heavy mental load. Hearing of the most recent tech layoffs, you might be wondering, “Will my role exist in 6 months? What happens if this launch fails? How can I manage this overwhelming workload?”
These loads that you and your team carry are often hidden, until something breaks or someone burns out. Leading to cultivate post-traumatic growth in your team means you get it. Like the caregivers I mentioned, you see the challenges your team is facing and you take the lead.
Here are three practices I’m observing from caregivers that may translate into the workplace.
- Name the work that’s hidden
Caregivers track more than the daily appointments. They’re watching for side effects, monitoring meds, ensuring transportation, care for the kids and meeting with specialists. Here’s how your leadership can be different.
What if you were to ask your team:
“What are you holding for us right now that doesn’t show up on an org chart or project plan?”
“What do I tend to miss when I think about your workload?”
By naming the work your team hasn’t talked about, you might notice a huge sense of relief. It can allow everyone to adjust their timelines to what might really work rather than feeling buried with a sense of overwhelm.
- Make decisions without having all the details
The caregivers I’m encountering have no guarantees about the outcome of the treatment. Still, they ask questions, listen thoroughly and choose the next step without a definitive answer.
Isn’t this what most leaders are truly facing after a crisis? You know there’s no ONE plan that will truly fix everything. Often, here’s what leaders may be considering:
“Here’s what we know.”
“We’re going to take this course of action and be ready to switch gears if necessary.”
These looser details reveal your direction without pretending you know the final answer.
- Offer agency and dignity
When so much is uncertain, caregivers have learned how to offer their loved one the ability to make choices. Things like what they want to eat, who comes to the appointment, which audio book to listen to in the car. That level of agency makes a big difference when so much feels out of control.
In the workplace, leaders can do the same with a major decision that’s non-negotiable. Here are some things you can still offer to your team:
“What would make this change more workable for you?”
“What needs to be different about how we operate given these changes?”
By removing some of the feelings of powerlessness, you provide your team with a way to have agency on how you all navigate this difficult situation. And this is where post-traumatic growth often begins.
Right now, post-traumatic growth feels like a big question I’m carrying between the treatment room and the leaders I coach.
When you look at the people you lead, what would change if you assumed they were already sitting in their own kind of waiting room…and led them with the same clarity, steadiness, and care you’d want for someone you love?
