Ashley Hart: How to play six strings and learn leadership things

I still feel twenty-five most of the time

I still raise a little Cain with the boys [in the band]…

Singing above the crowd and the noise…

Sometimes I feel like Jesse James

Still trying to make a name

Knowing nothing’s gonna change what I am

I was a young troubadour

When I rode in on a song…

Since before I was born, my mother had a radio in every room of the house I grew up in. It was only natural that music would become the first love of my life.

I was memorizing song lyrics before I could read and making up my own words to melodies I created. At two years old on a little old opry stage in my hometown, someone handed me a microphone for the first time. Forty years later, and I’ve never really let it go.

You see, music wasn’t a hobby for me, it was a professional career that has spanned my entire life. It is part of my heart and soul and what I know in my bones. I made my first studio album of original songs in Nashville, Tennessee, and played the Grand Ole Opry stage at 10.

I’d go on to spend many teenage and young adult years growing up waiting in the wings of that renowned stage learning lessons from some of the greatest musicians, entertainers, poets and artists the world would ever come to know.

I spent countless hours in the recording studio and on the road singing at fairs, festivals, sports stadiums and theatres across the country. I learned how to fly solo and how to collaborate with talented music makers who have accompanied me in the bands along the way.

A strange path to the law I suppose, but long ago and far away, I thought I’d be a person who could represent artists, help them protect the integrity of their art, and support them through all the things an artist doesn’t sign up for in the music business. I thought I could help them take care of their well-being so that they could endure the difficulties that come with the job. I have learned that life is such a surprise and that our stories, like songs, are always still being written.

Today I have the pleasure of leading the Indiana Judges and Lawyers Assistance Program, or JLAP, an agency that provides confidential, compassionate support to all Indiana judges, lawyers and law students—all rockstars in their own right—by promoting well-being, improving lives, fostering connection and thereby elevating the competence of our profession.

In the job interview for this role, and every other role I’ve taken in the legal world, inevitably, someone looks at my background and asks how music fits into the puzzle. Secretly, I’m always thrilled when it comes up, because it allows me to honestly and authentically say I wouldn’t be the person or the leader I am today without it. So, lend me your ears and six strings, and I’ll sing you a song to explain.

E string: The low note. “A good song can change your mood.” (James Taylor). Musicians don’t just understand emotions; they are experts in them. They don’t shy away from them, rather, they dive into them, explore them, describe them and give you a blueprint for what you feel as the listener but likely can’t articulate.

Ever hear that gut-wrenching ballad or that power anthem and think that the singer or songwriter was speaking directly to you and your experience? Leaders pluck this lowest and thickest string on the guitar and get comfortable with it.

To lead people, you must first understand people, and all the beautiful and bittersweet emotions and melodies that come with them. “Go to work, do your best, don’t outsmart your common sense,” (Lee Brice), and don’t forget to put some empathy in your tune so it resonates from the heart.

A string: Active listening. “There’s no such thing as a lead singer in our band.” (Steve Lukather). I spent my musical career as a lead singer and front person of a group. But I learned quickly that the role was a far greater exercise in the most intense listening I’d ever do.

I needed to know what the guitar was doing, where the bass solo came in so I didn’t stomp all over it, if I was on time with the drums or if a harmony part was going to throw me off my melody if I didn’t focus hard enough. Sometimes you sing above the crowd and the noise and hope somebody hears you.

Leaders get ready to actively listen to your teams and uncover what they need, how you can help, where you can support and where you can step aside and let them learn to shine. Share your microphones and stages, it only enhances the show.

D string: Don’t be afraid of feedback. “Later in the evening as you lie awake in bed, with the echoes from the amplifiers ringin’ in your head.” (Bob Seger). Feedback—a word that makes every musician cringe. That squeal of a hot microphone too close to a speaker, or a rumble from a guitar before the sound mix is dialed in correctly.

If the feedback counts as the crowd going wild with applause after the performance, we are usually elated. But much of the time it can be unpleasant, we avoid it and sometimes it hurts.

I’m a firm believer there is something to be learned from every performance; the good ones and the ones that didn’t land. Feedback is a chance to improve, to grow and to adjust our technique. Leaders lean into both giving and receiving direct feedback, I know it is uncomfortable, but when done with compassion and guidance, you can have a hit record.

G string: gratitude. My mother instilled in me to thank the audience after every song I sang and to thank those on the stage sharing their talents.

When I left the stage, it was also imperative I thanked the audio engineer for their time and attention—a critical misstep with sound and a show could be made or broken.

I have a rule in my band that we don’t talk about flubs during the performance; if there are corrections to be made, we talk about them in private and long after the crowd has gone home.

Leaders praise and appreciate your teams for the skills they bring and give credit where credit is due. Do it publicly! Mistakes happen in every performance, just help teach and guide your team to keep going and make them part of the song.

B string: “The Beat Goes On.” (Sonny/Cher). As a performer, I learned to play hurt, sick, sad and tired. The people paid good money for their admission to the show, and the mentality is “the show must go on,” no matter what. It made me tough and strong, but it wasn’t always the best approach to life or work.

Nothing taught me more about rejection than the music business. It could make you feel like flying in one moment and break your heart the next. I had great auditions, and those that cut me off 30 seconds in with a loud, “NEXT!” In those moments, it is easy to lose the beat or the purpose of why the music or dream or goal mattered in the first place.

Leaders are good conductors in both the great moments of the musical score where the beat is easy to find, but also in the moments where the battle rhythms are challenging. Leaders are often light keepers who show their teams the way when not everyone can see it yet. When you feel lost on your leadership journey because it gets lonely and difficult, stop, go back to the basics and find the beat again.

E string: Always end on a high note! Never go on stage without preparing an encore; you never know when you might need it. And by encore, I mean making it an inspiring one! “Music is essentially 12 notes between any octave. Twelve notes and the octave repeats. All any artist can offer the world is how they see those 12 notes.” (“A Star is Born”).

I love music because it has allowed me to create, to dream, to color outside the lines and to build a strong vision for who I am and where I’m going. Leaders, inspire your people with your vision and collaborate with them to develop a shared vision; only then can you go on your world tour.

She’s different, that one; that lawyer, social worker and singer of songs. But somehow, every note along the way has prepared me for my greatest moments in life and leadership. I look forward to the work JLAP is doing, and to being a part of a long-standing symphony of support for others in the legal community.

Sometimes I feel like Jesse James

Still trying to make a name

Knowing nothing’s gonna change what I am

I was a young troubadour

When I rode in on a song

And I’ll be an old troubadour when I’m gone

— From the song “Troubadour” written by Leslie Satcher and Monty Holmes and performed by George Strait•

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Ashley E. Hart, JD, LSW, is the new executive director at JLAP. She serves the legal community with her faithful therapy dog, the Honorable K9 Judge. When she isn’t lawyering or social working, she is singing, and you can always count on her to leave you with some lessons in a song. Opinions expressed are those of the author.