“Stop asking ‘What is my legacy?’ and instead ask ‘Who is my legacy?’”
Branches Worldwide executive director and Authentic Leadership author Dan Owolabi likes to make this important differentiation when people ask him about leaving a legacy.
“We all want our hard work to matter…so we do something that we think will give us significance,” says Owolabi. Unfortunately, that focus on achievement isn’t always the answer, so he tells a poignant story about his thwarted pursuit of significance.
He recalls a time when he was only thirteen years old and obsessed over breaking a school track record. He worked hard all season so that he could see his name on the wall at school as a record holder. But as the season wore on, he wasn’t winning any races. It wasn’t until the very last track meet that he finally met his goal and earned a coveted spot on the school wall.
Years later when Owolabi was going through a difficult time, he felt like he needed to see that record, perhaps channel some of those early victorious emotions. He got in the car and drove to his old neighborhood with anticipation—feeling that if he could see his name on the school wall, reminisce about the connection between effort and achievement, it might bring comfort.
When he arrived at the school’s neighborhood, it was all coming back to him: the hard work, the angst over possibly not reaching his goal … Except when he rounded the corner of his school’s street, the school was gone.
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Clearly, there would be no celebratory walk down the hall where he could rest his eyes on a plaque where he shared company with other notable classmates. No one would remember that he ran a blistering speed on that day.
We all want moments like that to last, but do they really? Sure, there are some bright spots in our history when someone has made a discovery that advances our body of knowledge or improves our way of life. But Owolabi’s story is a great reminder that for most of us, when we’re in leadership positions—whether it’s within our family, work, or community—our legacy isn’t built on recognition but rather on the positive influence we have on others around us.
Owolabi reminds us that there is a saying that we die twice: once when we physically pass and the second time when someone says our name for the last time. In other words, walls can be torn down and achievements can be outdone, but our influence has a ripple effect and lives on as people in our sphere influence others and so on.
I like to think that this “second passing” might come from the people we’ve mentored at work and given the confidence to go on and do great things. Or it might have come from the loved ones we nurtured who shine even brighter, thanks to our encouragement, or from the causes we gave our time and talent to so they could flourish. Owolabi’s thoughts on this topic remind me of what Carl W. Buehner once said: “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” How do you make people feel around you at work and in life? Owolabi would argue that they are your legacy.
Some (poetry) food for thought about the “second death.”
“The To-be-forgotten”
by Thomas Hardy
I
“I heard a small sad sound,
And stood awhile among the tombs around:
‘Wherefore, old friends,’ said I, ‘are you distrest,
Now, screened from life’s unrest?’
II
‘O not at being here:
But that our future second death is near;
When, with the living, memory of us numbs,
And blank oblivion comes!'”
III
“These, our sped ancestry,
Lie here embraced by deeper death than we;
Nor shape nor thought of theirs can you descry
With keenest backward eye.
IV
“They count as quite forgot;
They are as men who have existed not;
Theirs is a loss past loss of fitful breath;
It is the second death.
V
“We here, as yet, each day
Are blest with dear recall; as yet, can say
We hold in some soul loved continuance
Of shape and voice and glance.
VI
“But what has been will be —
First memory, then oblivion’s swallowing sea;
Like men foregone, shall we merge into those
Whose story no one knows.
VII
“For which of us could hope
To show in life that world-awakening scope
Granted the few whose memory none lets die,
But all men magnify
VIII
“We were but Fortune’s sport;
Things true, things lovely, things of good report
We neither shunned nor sought … We see our bourne,
And seeing it we mourn.”
Ted DiNardo
Hey Walt,
I hope all is well. I occasionally take in your articles, so thanks for that. But this one particularly hit home as now that I am retired I have had more time to reflect on my life. It has caused me to make more of an effort to help and support others and spend as much time as possibly with family and close friends. Thanks for the reminder! Take care
Ted