Amy Heidbreder

I started writing this blog before the war in Ukraine began, even setting the title. It’s a bit serendipitous its theme as we watch two leaders with very different mindsets clash in Eastern Europe. Before getting into the blog itself, I first want to share just how much Ukraine and her people are on my mind. I have been watching news non-stop, and am horrified at their plight. My heart aches for them. I have never wished death upon anyone, but Vladimir Putin is a monster. Death would be too kind a fate at this point. I want to see his judgement day.

Putin is a coward who fears descent and opposition, so he silences it, throwing voices against his regime in prison for outrageous lengths of time or flat out killing them. He hides from confrontation, masking from his people the truth about what this conflict in Ukraine is. He stages meetings in lavish rooms surrounded by cheery people acting out a falsified narrative. More on that later, but it’s completely different from a Volodymyr Zelensky who in a t-shirt or camo is in the trenches with his fellow Ukrainians fighting for their country’s right to exist. It is such a stark difference in leadership style. I have such admiration for a leader like Zelensky. This young leader of Ukraine will be remembered forever, immortalized in history. Memorials will be built in his honor for years to come. People respect leaders willing to fight, willing to get to their level, and willing to when the going gets tough get their hands dirty and in some cases even risk their life.

What I’m about to share feels so miniscule compared to war, but it is a comment on leadership style and in some ways relates.

I am about to thrust myself completely out of my comfort zone and share a snippet from a story I wrote. I have no formal training in creative writing, but writing is something I have done for years to escape the limits of my reality and live vicariously through characters owning the life I dream. Perhaps I can never achieve earning enough money to buy that big jumping horse that would see me to 1.25–1.30M heights, but I can imagine it. The point of me sharing this snippet isn’t to reveal I write. I instead want to use it to reveal a little how I feel about what a respectable leader looks like and the type of manager I aspire to be.

Let me set this up. This story is actually a snippet from the adventures of a superhero I revealed way back here. I made said superhero’s unmasked identity a very accomplished show jumper, who at a young age is already achieving at the International level. When I originally created him, I made him a character of modest means who just worked hard and was really good at riding. As I’ve progressed in my personal riding career, I now laugh at such an unrealistic prospect, so I switched gears and created a background of wealth for him. I made his uncle a famous fashion designer. The snippet I’m about to share is about this uncle. Like every fashion company, his brand hosts a myriad of shows every year, two of which are the company’s bread and butter. These two events are broadcasted on television and don’t just feature his label’s work. They feature a multitude of designers who have auditioned for their place on the broadcast. One goal of the show is to give designers who may not otherwise be noticed a shot at being seen. The show is capped off with Uncle Centaur revealing his Spring, or Winter, or whatever season line from his label and finally the crowning jewel is what I’ve titled the concept piece—a singular artistic fashion statement. Often times it’s a glimpse into an overly exaggerated future image of fashion. This snippet is about the conceptual piece for one of these shows arriving at the venue torn.

What a Manger Should Be

The hours before the Lerner Limited broadcast were always the busiest and fastest paced hours Eduardo ever worked. There was just so much to do and so many details to keep track of. He blended seamlessly with the rest of his production staff frantically cavorting about in an effort to expand time. The members of the crew there in Paris were the closest and hardest working of any of Eduardo’s employees. They were some of the privileged few that saw Mr. Lerner “suitless.” They said in the industry that there was only one time you could catch Eduardo without a suit on. It was 12 to 48 hrs before his broadcast. The blazing pace saw all staff, Eduardo included, in t-shirts and jeans or shorts with comfortable shoes so at any given moment one could quickly turn into a runner at whatever venue they had taken over that week. A constant chattering on radios frenzied the faces of crew members with earpieces, as they raced about trying to keep up with demands for their attention.

Eduardo wasn’t without a radio, and if he found himself in the vicinity of a request, he was completely unafraid to respond, whether it be for a model who needed help understanding how to wear the conceptual piece, or for some production member’s need for a random cable from downstairs. He didn’t consider himself above work. When something was on fire, he was in amongst his ranks of employees to help them smother the flames.

Eduardo was studying some of the graphics Mike was testing. “Eduardo…Eduardo you around,” came a voice. Eduardo put a hand to his radio, pushing a button.

“Present yes. What’s up,” he said into his microphone.

“We have an emergency backstage. The concept piece ripped on its way over from Germany.”

Eduardo immediately stepped away from Mike. “Is it bad,” he inquired, immediately making his way toward the stage.

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad.”

“I’m on my way. Hold on.”

The tear was disastrous, and the show revolved around this highly anticipated conceptual piece. It was hard to save face when Eduardo saw the destroyed garment. It’s f***ing ruined. Eduardo though maintained composure on his exterior. Even Ash felt panic for him, managing to catch a glimpse of the huge tear on a one of a kind piece of art—a garment that could potentially change the direction of fashion that season. It was like seeing a genuine Monet with a splintered stretcher bar protruding through the canvas. Eduardo took a deep breath. He turned the garment around—a sculptural fabric piece—studying the seams and where he could make a change. He turned to a present designer, Jonathan, the one who conceptualized and designed most of this garment. He then grabbed a piece of paper and his phone. This was definitely quite a massive fire. In that instant, Eduardo could have chosen to lay into the people responsible for shipping the garment, but that just wasted time. The first step was to douse the flames.

“Here’s what we’re going to do.” He drew his intention for the garment, where they would make the cuts and the adjustments. Jonathan nodded. Eduardo called Hannah, who was finalizing the presentations of accessories in glass cases upstairs. “We have an emergency with one of our main garments. I need you. Hurry,” said Eduardo. Hannah ran in, breathless, and gaped at the destroyed garment before her. It was unsalvageable, and it wasn’t just one of the main garments. It WAS the main garment. What do we do? We can’t just trash it. Eduardo quickly ran her through his plan. “I don’t know what this is going to do to the silhouette, but here’s what I need—fabric. Jonathan, you and Hannah, are going to go tooooo…” Eduardo looked at his phone, and announced a destination. “I need probably only a yard of fabric. Get three to be safe. Jonathan, choose a few potential fabrics to work here. You know this garment. I trust you, and you can bounce ideas off Hannah. Hannah, go shopping with Jonathan, and I know this is hard, but I need an accessory. It can be anything. I don’t really know if it’s a bracelet, or a necklace, earrings, a belt, a sash. It’s not big necessarily, but it distracts from the rumple in the silhouette that is going to be here,” said Eduardo, pointing to a seam. Hannah nodded, her face sober and panicked. This was a big task to do in only a day. They were at about a DEFCON 1 now, being immediately deployed to defend themselves against imminent doom. “I believe in you. You can do this. Go.” Hannah and Jonathan rushed off. Eduardo had the garment cut and dissected in the right places by the time Hannah and Jonathan returned. Eduardo took charge and began mending the garment, selecting a lovely piece of fabric, Jonathan brought to him.

Hannah rushed off to create an accessory. She had an idea. It was so weird and off the wall, but she was running with it. It was like a chain skirt necklace that would hopefully accentuate the folds of fabric on the side of the dress opposite the new seam. The idea was out there. Hannah just followed her gut. She was soon called in to present her accessory. Eduardo wasn’t expecting an addition to the dress, but that’s what Hannah invented. Hannah took her fine chain and hooked it over the subtle, but ugly bulge on the left side of the dress that the new seam added to the silhouette. She used the bulge to her advantage. It propped up her chain, which fanned out in glittering strands over the opposite side of the dress into the folds of the sculptural fabric, becoming just a hint that took your eye off the bulge. Jonathan’s eyes lit up. It was actually quite lovely, subtle, and completely distracted from the seam.

Eduardo pointed at it, lifting and nodding. “Yes,” he said. He turned his head looking at it again, and spouted a couple small changes. He inquired if Hannah agreed with his changes to the accessory. She nodded.

“Yes, after seeing it on the dress—yes.”

“Okay, get to work,” said Eduardo, patting her on the shoulder. Eduardo turned to Carey, wearing the dress. “Stay with Hannah. She’ll need you to fit it properly.” Carey nodded. “And Jonathan, stay here and help her. I trust you guys to finish it.” Eduardo turned about him. “Hey, Carson,” he yelled at one of his photographers. “Stay in touch with Jonathan. We need a photo of this when it’s finished, and need to send it to Mike to update the graphics package.” Carson gave a thumb’s up.

12 hrs before the show, Eduardo stopped all his team. They had gone as far as they could. Eduardo wanted his team fresh for the party and show. He halted everybody, bringing all his team together for a meeting. They had all been up for almost 3 days, hanging in t-shirts and shorts—make-up free and hair a mess, radios and wires dripping from their belts, ear pieces pulled out and over their shoulder. “Okay everybody—fantastic job. You guys are amazing. We’re 12hrs out. You know what that means. It’s time to leave and get some rest. I want everyone to go get some sleep. You guys need to be rested for the show. My production team, models and stylists, we’ll reconvene here 2 1/2hrs before show time. Everyone else, I’ll see you at dinner,” announced Eduardo. Eduardo turned to his nephew at his right. “Did Carson get you that new photo of the concept piece?” Mike nodded.

“We’re good,” he replied—fire extinguished.

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I have a lot of respect for a leader who can get their hands dirty. I’ve experienced bosses who are in the trenches with the team and in a pinch able to do the same work as nearly anyone in the room to help alleviate the strain. I’ve also experienced bosses who strategically avoid having access to things like VPN or certain systems so they don’t have to do that type of work, and you know what’s ironic is in my experience, the managers I’ve had who dirty their hands are usually women. Just a funny coincidence. It’s 2022, maybe in this story an inner part of me wanted to create a new age male leader who does not see himself above labor.

There’s a lot of value to being a manager who’s been in the trenches. If you understand the work, you can comprehend level of effort and better support your team. Also, when the going gets super tough, you’re not just a person in the corner barking orders and then watching over your staff’s shoulders nervously, you’re able to actually alleviate the load by physically taking some of the work on, not just being a nuisance. Leading in this way, by example, a manager might even discover in the thick of the emergency a way it can get done faster.

Managing a fashion show or in my case a web content team isn’t war, but knowledge in your team’s work is tantamount in whatever you’re managing as a leader. It shows you truly value and respect your team’s work. You don’t see yourself above their work, and that builds a repertoire of morale and guts. People are willing to fight for a leader who is willing to fight for them.

I recorded this little snippet from my TV yesterday. It starts with a clip of Vladimir Putin hosting a meeting surrounded by primarily women. The smiling expressions and tilted heads are so stilted. I don’t understand how the Russian people are buying this ploy, and who are all these women? On CNN, someone they interviewed, possibly a senator or it could have been someone in the military—I can’t remember—was of the opinion that Putin always meets with people from a distance, across the expanse of a large table or in an empty room because he’s deathly afraid of being assassinated. Is that why this photo op is primarily women? Because he feels physically less threatened by women? I don’t know. It’s bizarre. The footage is followed by a story of a couple who lost their 18-month-old son in one of the bombings.

Putin deserves no respect as a human being. He’s clearly targeting civilians. Most blatant was the destroying of an apartment complex north of Kyiv. A huge part of the complex was completely leveled, bodies of civilians—just trying to live their lives and care for their families—blown out into the street or buried in the rubble. Below is another story I recorded of obvious civilian targeting.

I aspire to in my life channel the bravery of Zelensky and lead by example, to be unafraid of the enemy, to be unafraid of work, to not manage from afar, but to manage from within, and to always stand up for what’s right. God bless the Ukranian people!