I read a book recently by Larry Winget called It’s Called Work for a Reason!: Your Success Is Your Own Damn Fault.  The book was good, some things he talked about I disagreed with, and others I really liked.  One of his chapters was devoted to–what he referred to as–Workplace Superstars.   These Superstars are the people that seem to be exempt from the rules, the people that can do what they please, because they are invaluable–or highly valuable–to the company.  I’ve since returned the book, but I’ll loosely quote a passage where Larry talks about superstars working for him.

If you’re working for my company in sales, and you are outselling everyone else by more than double, then you’re a superstar.  I’ll let you do whatever you want to do, as long as you keep selling.  You can come and go as you please, wear whatever you want to work, do whatever you think will help you sell more.  And while you’re outselling everyone else, I won’t get on your back about the little things, I’ll let you get away with stuff.  But if you stop preforming–you won’t be a superstar anymore, and you’ll have to follow the rules just like everyone else.

–Larry Winget

This concept of a SuperStar wasn’t new to me, and probably isn’t new to many, we’ve all worked with, or maybe even been those people.  They’re an asset to the organization, and they are deemed to be of extremely high value (perhaps not invaluable, since rarely is someone).  Sometimes it’s not even that hard to become a superstar, you just need to fill in a void that is hard to fill, or hasn’t been filled by anyone before you.

Back in high school, I participated on a FIRST robotics team, I was pulled onto the team in my Junior year, and participated as a programmer for two years, taking over the role completely in my senior year.  I knew some of the people on the team before joining, and quickly became friends with most everyone.  As far as I knew, we were all treated the same.  There may have even been another superstar or two.

At our teams first competition of the season, I took over doing the actual program for the robot, replacing the other programmer who didn’t know how to fix a certain problem we were having.  I found and fixed this problem, and built a makeshift autonomous mode program.  This was the first time that I was “in charge” of the competition build.  I spent another twenty minutes working with a member of the drive team to simplify his controls and make some modifications to how things would be operated.  I thought nothing of either of these things, since I had been working with “clients” for several years.  Even the slightest of a change can make a big difference. If I feel that a feature is in poor taste–but the end user wants it–I’ll include it.  It’s not up to me to make arbitrary decisions about how the system should be used.  If it works for the driver, he can better do his job, and I’ve done mine.

At this point, I became exponentially more valuable, and perhaps in several minutes, earned the status that the 3rd and 4th-year team members had achieved.  I could do, and more importantly would do what nobody else was going to.  Having a more functional robot, or a simplified control interface meant that the team was more likely to be successful.  Perhaps I was given credit where credit was not due–I didn’t design that control board, I didn’t design most of the control software, I made simple modifications that should have already been done.  At this point, I became a superstar to the team advisers (think of the as management).

For the next year and a half that I was in high school, and on the team, I worked in much the same fashion.  I built the best software that I could, and in return, nobody ever had a problem with me doing what I wanted.  I found out this year (2008), that the team has had a “buddy system policy” since at least 2005.  Never once was I asked to “find a buddy” or “go somewhere with my buddy.”  I remember frequently moving from the stands watching matches, to the pit area to make changes or take a look at something.  Never once was it questioned where I was going, or what I was doing.  Others were accosted and asked questions just to go to the bathroom.  Maybe I looked trustworthy, or maybe I had superstar status.

5 Tips to becoming a superstar:

1. Please the right people. This may seem obvious, but realize that sometimes it’s better to have your peers talking about how great you are, than to have only your managers know.  Your managers can see your performance far more directly, it really says something about a person that is highly regarded by their peers.
2. Become invaluable. This is more obvious than the last, but it is just as important.  In order to become a superstar, you will have to be able to do something that nobody else can.  Be the absolute best at what you do, in every respect.
3. Make ethical and logical decisions. Being able to think quickly and make good decisions is important.  Someone that can consistently makes the right call is more likely to be given flexibility in making those calls.  Have a solid track record of making the right choice.
4. Know the strengths and weaknesses of those around you. This can’t be emphasized enough.  Being able to rush to the rescue when someone can’t come through is a great way to instantly achieve superstar status.  Being able to judge and estimate where someone might fail can be just as important, and knowing the right people to turn to when you need help is a safety net that will help you retain status.
5. Don’t make wanting to become a superstar your driving force. Superstars are naturally good at what they do, you can’t force yourself into it.  Having talent is important, and being smart can help–but not everyone is a superstar.