The hidden curriculum
A few years ago, I hired two employees at the same time, for the same role.
It wasn’t some kind of reality show competition. If they had both performed well, I would have kept them both on.
However, after a few weeks, there was a clear divergence in the behavior of these two people. One of them read all of the books we recommended, asked questions, sought feedback, and integrated what she was learning into her daily work. She aligned herself with the values of the company. The other didn’t do the reading, avoided feedback, and aligned himself with peers and subordinates. At the end of a probationary period, we parted ways.
My team and I had done our best to set expectations for this role. There was no bait and switch—even the professional development was part of the job description. That’s what made it so easy for the second employee and I to mutually decide that the second employee was not a fit, saving everyone a lot of time and energy. He had thought it was what he wanted, and it was obvious to all when it turned out not to be.
I would assert that even though not every job has a reading list and explicit practices for professional growth, there are always implicit ones. There is likely a hidden curriculum that wasn’t taught in school. In fact, the person hiring you might not even be aware that they are expecting you to have mastered it. Regardless, just showing up is not enough. If you want to stand out in what you do, you ought to look for not just the required training, but also this hidden curriculum.
At my music school, Eclectic Music, the teachers are contractors. Accordingly, they can choose their own materials, communicate freely with our mutual clients, and set their own schedule. That said, over the years we have learned certain predictors of success that we share with these teachers so that they can have the most stability in the role.
One of these predictors is getting their students into recitals. A strong recital showing correlated with high rates of student retention, which makes intuitive sense. A student who is performing in a recital is able to demonstrate what they’ve learned, which means they’ve learned something, which is evidence of tangible value that they’re getting out of the service. What’s more, a successful recital performance gives the student and their family a warm fuzzy feeling. We hesitate to quit things that give us that feeling.
Beyond the benefits to the student, when a teacher is able to encourage her students to perform on recital, prepare them appropriately, and follow through, she is showing the administrative team at Eclectic Music that she is a good bet for the next student who comes along. Therefore, wouldn’t it be wise for a brand-new teacher to attend recitals and even offer to help out with organizing them? She’ll have all of the information she needs to get her own students performing as soon as possible, and in the meantime, she’s investing in relationships with the people who will influence her trajectory.
Naturally, few of us do this kind of thing. It’s hard work! We would only do it if we were deeply invested in being successful in a given situation. Unfortunately, I see a lot of people who believe they are deeply invested in being successful who do not seem aware that simply meeting the stated requirements is not enough to achieve the level of success they are looking for.
That gap between satisfying the stated requirements and achieving stellar performance—the hidden curriculum—doesn’t just exist because bosses and teachers are being tricky and playing mind games. It’s there because a lot of leaders don’t know what else they need or how to help their people grow. The best approach is always to take responsibility for our own growth, even if we are not directly rewarded for it at first.
When there is no obvious path toward growth, we may have to invest some effort up front into figuring out what contributions will be most valuable, what knowledge and skills we need to develop, and then determining a plan. In some situations, it’s more effective to do that by observing rather than asking.
I used to be very poor at illuminating the hidden curriculum in a professional context even though I was good at doing it in school. I struggled to do it in a social context, too. I never wore the right thing or showed up at the right time or anticipated the boss’s needs. Perhaps that’s why I went into business for myself. I found it a lot easier to get feedback from clients—not direct feedback (“Yeah, everything’s great!), but the real feedback (like whether they came back again and again or stopped calling me). It turned out that I was far more motivated to grow my skills and knowledge when it was for my own business, so I managed to find the hidden curriculum and challenge myself.
As a leader, I work hard to support the people I mentor, but I’m taking my cues from them as to what they’re ready for and I’m not going to push them harder than they’re apparently willing to be pushed. I tend to match my level of investment to theirs. Many people say that they want to grow, but I look for their actions, not their words, to show me where I might be helpful to them and where I am just going to contributing noise to their endeavors. I don’t know what’s right for them, what’s the best use of their time, or what they should do next in their life or career; that’s ultimately up to them.
We can’t expect our customers, clients, students, teachers, bosses, and even our friends and family to always know what they want from us or what’s next for us. If we pay attention, however, we might discover valuable activities, practices, and resources hiding in plain sight. Though it takes energy to go above and beyond and those efforts are not always directly rewarded, it might be useful to think of these efforts as an investment not only in the relationships and habits that support a particular role, but also in our own knowledge and skills—new strengths that we can take with us to be of service and find success wherever we go, whatever challenges we face.