Northern California’s temperate climate, fertile soil and advanced water-supply system make the region a prime spot for commercial beekeeping, and even more so nowadays. Why’s that? Almonds, which need bees — lots and lots of bees. 

For me, and all the mothers I know, the experience of being a parent has influenced every aspect of our lives, including our careers. I have found that women who make great leaders also make great mothers, and great mothers also have the skills to be great leaders. But employers don’t always see that connection.

I have an hourly employee who I cannot get to stop working off the clock. I’ve asked him to only work while on the clock, but the problem persists. I think he’s trying to be helpful, but I’m worried about our liability on the matter and am unsure how to address it with my employee.

I’ll admit, my best mentors have been men, and I am grateful for their unwavering support and guidance. I’ve also experienced the confusion and frustration when a female collaborator turned competitive, when a hand that could have opened a door instead shut it in my face. 

It’s inevitable. You’re just getting into a groove with your business and team when someone announces she’s retiring, moving on, starting a family or going back to school. Or maybe you’re about to take a long-awaited vacation when you find out an employee has given notice.

Here’s an idea I share with my clients: We don’t actually get to decide what kind of leaders or communicators we are. Instead, the people in our lives decide the degree to which they value our impact. Whether you lead or manage people, look now through your employees’ eyes and ask, “Would I want to work for me?”

We are hiring for a new senior marketing position, and I decided to go with CMO for the title to help recruit a rock star from within our industry to potentially serve as my No 2. My director of fundraising, who I personally recruited four years ago, wants her title changed to Chief Advancement Officer for parity. She does good work but in my mind is not C-level material.

When Chris Treiber left the Navy in 2011, he set sail on uncharted waters. His 10 years of service offered no natural path into a good job. He’d spent his last five of those guarding prisoners and had no civilian job experience. He had a GED, having dropped out of high school in 10th grade. And at age 32, he had a wife and five kids to provide for.

It’s important for transplants to realize that our greatest strength can also be our greatest liability. What we bring to the table is a disregard for what, allegedly, cannot be done. But it’s important to understand the context in which our ideas are being received. We need to be just as willing to learn as we are to create.

Working hard to achieve something new should not be fodder for punitive action; it’s the maintenance of a poorly functioning status quo that should be looked at with a sideways glance. Perfection lives on the same continuum as failure. In life, as in work, we learn painfully but fully from our failures — that is when we grow.