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Foreign. Hello, I'm David Hinson and I serve as Campus Chief Information Officer with Bolden Networks for Higher Education. Welcome to Control Alt Lead. This week I'm trying a new production workflow. You're hearing an AI generated voice trained upon my own, but the words and ideas are absolutely 100% mine. One evening several years ago, I was leaving work. It was freezing out, a light mist of watery ice stinging my eyes as I tried to remember if I had anything in my car able to scrape the thickening rime of ice coating my windshield. Approaching my car, I saw a small flash of color affixed to one of my wiper blades. Pulling up the wiper arm, I found a sandwich bag containing something made from construction paper. Opening the bag, I found a small yellow origami bird with a note from a friend. I looked around, didn't see anyone, and gently tossed the gift into my driver's seat. Over the course of the next several days and weeks, a succession of different origami animals found their way to my car, each with a bespoke, personal, handwritten note. The suspense and intrigue made me look forward to finding these little treasures, unaware of who the friend could be, no hints apparent in any changes in the behavior of my colleagues or co workers. And then one day, a final animal appeared with a note saying, this would be the last. No great reveal, just this was the last. It was sometime later that I learned that it was someone who served with me on Cabinet, doing this not only as a gesture of friendship but a visible connection and appreciation. To be honest, it was one of the most genuine, sincere, and surprisingly moving acts of friendship and acknowledgment I have ever received as a professional, a small but human gesture. I see you in our professional lives, especially in leadership, and doubly so in higher education and technology. We tend to overstate our own need for recognition while woefully underestimating the need in others to be seen to be validated, to be acknowledged not just for what they do but for who they are. Connection isn't a perk, it's a necessity. Too often we treat engagement as a program or a project, something you workshop once a year during retreats and abandon as the quarterly reporting crunch begins. But connection, authentic, sustained human connection, isn't a luxury. It's oxygen. It's the glue that holds teams together when our systems crash, when our budgets are slashed, when our best project lead gives notice. And in higher education, where stakes are existential and missions are generational, that cohesion matters deeply. As a CIO in higher ed, I've seen how easy it is to reduce people to roles, projects, and performance metrics. Technologists are particularly susceptible to this trap, being rewarded for being efficient, reliable, and invisible. But in doing so, we risk creating environments where our teams feel unseen, unappreciated, and ultimately disconnected from the why behind their work. That little yellow bird reminded me that being seen wasn't nothing. It's everything. For our teams, our missions, and ourselves. Authentic recognition fuels motivation. When we think about motivating teams, we tend to default to the tangible raises, promotions, new titles, training budgets. All necessary, all important. But recognition, the meaningful, specific, and often unexpected kind, outpaces them all. Recognition says, I see you. I value what you bring. You matter here. That's not HR fluff. That's a talent retention strategy. It's not just about saying good job. True recognition speaks to effort, context, and impact. It might look like calling out the unsung hero of a project during an all hands meeting, sending a handwritten note after a grueling semester of system upgrades, asking someone their opinion in a room where their voice is often overlooked. In my experience, the people who keep the lights on and who quietly make the magic happen aren't always the loudest in meetings or the first to seek the spotlight. But when you recognize them authentically and regularly, you don't just make them feel good. You remind them they're essential. And in doing so, you motivate them to keep bringing their very best every day. Because recognition builds engagement, and engagement builds culture. We talk a lot in higher ed. It circles about engagement. We measure it in surveys. We fret over it in leadership retreats. We ask why it's declining. But sometimes we overlook the obvious. People engage where they feel valued. Recognition is the on ramp to engagement, and when woven into the everyday rhythms of leadership, it becomes a cultural cornerstone. But let me be clear. Recognition isn't performative. It's not about orchestrated attaboys or slack emojis. It's about building a culture where praise is normalized, not reserved. Where people don't have to go above and beyond to be noticed because doing their job well is already worthy of recognition. The origami animals weren't performance based. They didn't follow a KPI. They were quiet affirmations of value. They were a hand on the shoulder. In paper form. They were engagement made real. Leadership requires intentional connection. As leaders, our job isn't just a set direction. It's to create conditions where people can do their best work and feel their best selves while doing it that starts with showing up visibly, vulnerably and consistently. In my own career, I've tried to be more intentional about how I engage with others. That means more what is keeping you up nights and fewer check the boxes during my weekly one on ones. It means seeking input before decisions are made and not just after. It means giving credit generously and taking responsibility willingly. Most importantly, it means recognizing the humans behind the work, not just the work itself. In our increasingly digital, hybrid and asynchronous work environments, this only gets harder day by day, but it also gets more vital and more important. A personal message. A handwritten note of thanks. A kind word in front of someone's peers. These cost nothing, but they instill trust, loyalty, and goodwill in ways that no tech budget or capital plan ever could. So don't wait around for the last origami Looking back, I often think about how that series of notes and bespoke handmade paper treasures affected my own view of leadership. It reminded me that people notice when you notice that encouragement isn't just uplifting, it's transformational. That behind every title org chart and department name is a person waiting to be seen. If there's a lesson in this story, and I believe there is, it's this. Don't wait for the last note. Recognize someone today. Thank them for their persistence. Celebrate their quiet brilliance. Point out the impact they didn't think anyone noticed. And maybe, just maybe, that small gesture becomes their little yellow bird they didn't realize they were in need of. Thanks for listening. I'll see you soon.
