Chapter 8: Clarity, Care, and the Power of Expectations

Imani Rhodes

It was one of those mornings that felt heavier than it should’ve—steam fogging the café windows, the grinder roaring, the smell of espresso cutting through the air. Jay was new, but eager—the kind of person who shows up early, smiles big, and jumps right in. You could see the effort in every move, wiping counters, refilling syrups, checking the pastry case twice. The problem wasn’t effort—it was direction. Nobody had ever walked Jay through the details of what “really good” looked like. How to steam milk to the right texture, how to greet regulars by name, how to pace orders so the drinks hit the counter together. So even with all that energy, little mistakes kept creeping in—foam too thick, cups mixed up, tickets out of order. Jay wasn’t careless. Jay was trying hard. But without a clear picture of what great looked like, “trying” wasn’t enough. —good heart, good hustle, just missing the mark because the target had never been painted.

Jake Ramirez

Man, I’ve totally been Jay. Seriously, it’s like you’re going full throttle but you don’t even know which direction you’re supposed to be running. You just hope you guess right when the boss checks in. But if you miss? Cue the drama, right? Like, if the goalposts are invisible, how are you supposed to score?

Imani Rhodes

Exactly. So I took a step back and thought—this isn’t about effort, it’s about understanding. Nobody ever really taught Jay what “good” looks like here. He’d been guessing, trying to please everyone, working twice as hard just to stay afloat. So I grabbed a napkin and wrote three simple things: “Five-minute greet. Smooth foam. Drinks land together.” Then I walked him through it—showed him how the milk should sound when it’s right, how to time the shots, how to line up the cups so the orders flow. You could see the lightbulb go on. Not perfect, but getting there. The panic in his eyes faded, replaced by focus. By noon, drinks were coming out smoother, customers were smiling, and Jay had that quiet confidence you get when someone finally shows you the map instead of just telling you to find the treasure.

Jake Ramirez

That’s it—clarity isn’t control, it’s, like, relief. There’s research all over this. Locke and Latham showed, like, way back, that when you give people specific, clear goals, they actually perform better. Gallup says the #1 driver for engagement is just knowing what’s expected at work. It’s not some secret—teams work better when the goals are painted out. If feedback is the review, you gotta write the instructions first, not after the fact.

Imani Rhodes

Or, as I learned that morning—sometimes, what separates panic from pride is one line on a napkin and someone who actually believes you can hit it. Because, honestly? Nobody plays their best game when the goalposts are invisible.

Jake Ramirez

And look, even the best teams in the world don't “just know.” John Wooden, Bill Walsh...Nick Saban—these coaches didn’t let expectations live in their heads. It’s visible, it’s posted, it’s public. You can literally hack this yourself, for a shift, a project, whatever—write down what needs to be delivered, how it should look, and when you’ll check. Paint that target. Feedback gets way-way-easier.

Imani Rhodes

So, let’s shift a bit—because when we talk expectations, we’re really talking about care. Psychological safety, yeah, but also those high standards right alongside. You can have learning if people feel safe and if the bar is clear. Edmondson calls it the “learning zone.” And I love her tools—not just setting standards, but inviting voice. Asking, “What am I missing?” Or using mistakes as data, not drama. It’s a kindness to show someone what ‘good’ actually looks like—because you’re equipping them, not just judging them.

Jake Ramirez

Oh for sure. When I started crew leading, I thought I’d get respect by laying down the law, showing ‘who’s boss.’ But, no joke, I got so much more buy-in when I was just upfront. When I said, “Here’s what has to get done, here’s what good looks like, and here’s why,” the guys on the team relaxed. They wanted a map, not just marching orders. Like, five quick examples? Lemme rapid-fire—first, I’d say out loud “We’re aiming for a 4-hour finish, no trash left on the lot.” That’s clarity. Second, “Before we break, double-check all tools are loaded back—don’t guess.” Third, “If you don’t know, ask. I’d rather get three dumb questions than one accident.” Fourth, “If you mess up, flag it early—we can fix it without a scene.” Fifth, “When we knock it out the park, I’m shouting it to the whole crew.” Every single one says, “You belong here, and I care how this turns out for you.”

Imani Rhodes

And that right there—making the mark visible—turns what could be top-down control into genuine support. It’s the opposite of micro-managing. You’re giving people permission to step up, or even say, “Hey, can we tweak this?” That’s trust-building, right? Anyone listening—try this: at your next shift, post your three lines, ask for input, and thank people for speaking up about what could go wrong. Watch the difference.

Jake Ramirez

I mean, how many times have we talked about the “1% Assist” mindset, right? On last episode—support isn’t about going soft, it’s about getting everybody pointing in the same direction with the same finish line in mind. When you show what the win is, you get less guessing, more momentum, and honestly…just fewer headaches.

Imani Rhodes

And, you know, this works peer-to-peer as much as it does manager-to-staff. The “Expectation Snapshot”—that three-line contract—works for a server, crew lead, or even just between teammates. What gets measured, what gets checked, what great looks like—share it, own it, edit it together. That’s real team care. It’s not just a checkbox; it’s how people start believing they can do the work—and actually look forward to doing it together.

Imani Rhodes

So now let’s push into the last big piece of this—belief out loud—what psychologists call the Pygmalion effect. It’s one of the most powerful forces in performance, but most people don’t even realize they’re using it. Here’s the simple version: people tend to rise to the expectations they feel from others. In the late 1960s, researchers Robert Rosenthal and Lenore Jacobson ran a study in a school where teachers were told that certain students were “intellectual bloomers.” Those kids weren’t any different on paper—but by the end of the year, they outperformed their classmates. The only real difference was the belief their teachers projected onto them. That same thing happens at work every day. When leaders and peers show genuine belief—when they say, “I know you can do this, and here’s why I believe it”—performance and confidence go up. It’s not magic; it’s human nature. People tune to the tone around them. When someone believes in you, you start to believe it too. That’s the Pygmalion effect in action.

Jake Ramirez

I see this all the time on crews. If I go, “I’ve seen you nail this before; you got it” when someone’s struggling? Their whole body changes. But if I start with, “Don’t screw this up”—well, surprise, I’m basically begging for trouble. Sports coaches have this mastered—like, Bill Walsh had a “Standard of Performance” for every role, John Wooden built out daily “here’s what good looks like” behaviors. Same thing with Anson Dorrance’s soccer rankings: visible standards meet visible belief. That combo’s magic.

Imani Rhodes

Yeah, and let’s make this super practical. Let’s try a quick crew scenario. Jake, you want to play shift leader?

Jake Ramirez

Okay—so, I’m talking to a new crew member, fresh out of training. I say: “Today’s bed edge—220 feet, clean line, no scallops. Paint the target. Then—“Hey, I saw your straight lines yesterday; keep doing it just like that. If you hit roots, come see me, I’ll swap you a sharper spade. We’ll look at it together before we go on to the next task.” Now instead of just waiting to get chewed out, they know what’s up, they know I believe in what they can do, and they know I’ll help if it goes sideways.

Imani Rhodes

And that’s the move. Clarify, believe, support, check in. If you want to try it yourself, run the “Expectation Snapshot” for your team or shift. And speak your faith—out loud: “I’m setting this because I believe you can hit it.” To close, even just two small habits—post your three-line snapshot before a shift, and end every check-in with a belief bookend: “This result fits who you’re becoming.” It sparks effort and learning, not just compliance.

Jake Ramirez

That’s the real gold: clarity and belief turning feedback from a courtroom to a checkpoint. If today’s episode fired you up, run the action items. The expectations you set? They make this real. Show up with clarity. Show care with belief. See what happens.

Imani Rhodes

Absolutely, Jake. And to everyone listening, keep those wins coming—on the crew, behind the counter, anywhere people show up as people. See you in chapter 9.