What I Wish Someone Had Told Me in Year One
I've been running districts for seven years now. When I started, I had no idea what I was doing. I made every mistake. Some of them cost me sleep. A few of them almost cost me the job.
Here's what I wish someone had told me in year one.
1. Your Board Is Not Your Boss
This took me two years to understand. Your board sets policy and approves budgets. They don't manage your day-to-day work. The relationship is governance, not supervision.
In year one, I treated every board member's suggestion as a directive. I changed priorities constantly based on whoever had talked to me last. I was exhausted and ineffective.
The shift came when I started bringing recommendations instead of questions. "Here's what I think we should do and why" instead of "What do you think we should do?" Boards want to approve good ideas, not generate them. That's your job.
2. Merchants Will Test You
In my first month, a merchant called to complain about a parking issue. I dropped everything to solve it. The next week, the same merchant called about signage. I dropped everything again. By month three, I was spending 40% of my time on one merchant's complaints.
Some merchants will take as much of your time as you give them. It's not malicious — they're just advocating for their business. But you have to set boundaries. "I can look into that next week" is a complete sentence. "That's not something the district handles" is also a complete sentence.
The merchants who respect your time are the ones worth investing in. The ones who don't will never be satisfied anyway.
3. Document Everything
In year two, a property owner accused me of promising something I hadn't promised. I had no documentation. It became my word against theirs. The board sided with the property owner.
Now I document every significant conversation. Email summaries after phone calls. Meeting notes distributed within 24 hours. Written confirmations of any commitment. It takes time, but it's saved me multiple times since.
4. Your Predecessor's Relationships Are Not Your Relationships
I inherited a district with strong stakeholder relationships — or so I thought. What I actually inherited was my predecessor's relationships. When she left, those relationships didn't transfer to me automatically.
I had to rebuild every relationship from scratch. The property owners who trusted her didn't trust me until I earned it. The merchants who showed up to her meetings didn't show up to mine until I gave them a reason.
Don't assume you're inheriting goodwill. Assume you're starting from zero and be pleasantly surprised if you're not.
5. The Job Is Lonely
Nobody prepares you for the loneliness of the job. You're not quite a city employee, not quite a business owner, not quite a nonprofit director. You're something else entirely. Your staff (if you have any) report to you. Your board oversees you. Your stakeholders have expectations of you. But nobody is really your peer.
Find other district managers. Join IDA. Go to conferences. Build a network of people who understand what you're dealing with. The job is hard enough without doing it alone.
6. Small Wins Matter More Than Big Plans
In year one, I developed a comprehensive five-year strategic plan. It was beautiful. It was ambitious. It was completely irrelevant within 18 months.
What actually built my credibility was small wins. A pothole fixed. A merchant connected to a resource. A quick response to a complaint. These small things accumulated into trust, which accumulated into the political capital to do bigger things.
Don't wait for the big initiative. Stack small wins. They compound.
7. You Will Make Mistakes
I approved an event that went badly. I hired someone who didn't work out. I said something at a board meeting that I regretted immediately. I sent an email I shouldn't have sent.
Mistakes are inevitable. What matters is how you handle them. Acknowledge them quickly. Apologize without excuses. Fix what you can. Learn what you can. Move on.
The managers who survive are not the ones who don't make mistakes. They're the ones who recover from mistakes gracefully.
8. It Gets Easier
Year one was the hardest year of my professional life. Year two was hard but manageable. By year three, I knew what I was doing. By year five, I was good at it.
If you're in year one and struggling, know that it gets easier. The learning curve is steep, but it flattens. The relationships you're building now will pay dividends for years. The mistakes you're making now are teaching you things you can't learn any other way.
Stick with it. It's worth it.