Lori Robinson on the Meaning of Resilience in a Career of Firsts
Lori Robinson
Wife, mother, Gigi, wannabe retiree, FMR, commander of Norad and US Northern Command
What’s the weirdest thing in your tote bag?
What is weird is what is NOT in my tote bag…all the unclassified documents that I always carried with me to ensure I could perform my duties to defend the United States.
What was the last thing that surprised you?
When Secretary Carter called me to inform me that I was going to be his nomination to the President of the United States as the Commander of NORAD and US Northern Command.
Best thing that happened to you in the 80s or 90s?
Making the decision to join Air Force ROTC, which led to a commitment to serve our nation, and without that I would never have met my amazing husband.
Resilience, From a Career of Firsts
I’m an Air Force brat; my father served our country for 30 years, retiring as a Colonel. I am the oldest of five children, so as you can imagine, my father was concerned about paying for college for the five of us. During my junior year of high school, as we began to discuss college for me, my father said, “Lori, why don’t you think about going to the Air Force Academy?” I smiled sweetly and said, “Are you kidding me? I just spent 16 years in the Air Force. No thank you.”
Off I went to the University of New Hampshire. I knew I’d want a job after graduation, so the decision to join the Air Force ROTC just seemed to make sense. When my duty assignment came down, my Professor of Aerospace Science said I should call my father to get me out of the job. But I knew I was on my own, and in my mind, I was only going to be in the Air Force for four years. As they say, the rest is history. After some time, I knew that I loved what I was doing, and if possible, I would get to 20 years and then retire. (I so believed I would retire in 20 years that we bought a proper retirement house in Florida.) Luckily, I had an incredibly supportive husband and family, amazing role models, and people all up and down the chain of command who believed in me.
When I joined the Air Force I had never heard of the word resilience, but our ability to teach, train and live resilience has grown. There are so many facets of resilience, and I believe this framework is a good starting place. It’s important to take care of yourself—physically, emotionally and spiritually (whatever that means to you). You have to understand yourself, which is not easy to do, and it takes time. I can tell you I am not the Lori Robinson today that I was in 1986. I’ve learned to identify when I might be “falling behind” in those areas mentioned above, and address those things that might be affecting my ability to execute tasks at hand. There is not one “program” for teaching and training resilience; it’s a wide range of capabilities. I also believe it’s important that people up and down the chain of command understand if those who work for them are having resilience issues, because each person's ability to be resilient (or not) will directly affect an organization’s ability to execute. Every person is vital, and their ability to understand themselves, or “bounce back,” is crucial.
As the Commander of US Northern Command, I was responsible directly to the Secretary of Defense, to defend the homeland and ensure we were able to defend the U.S. against ballistic missiles from North Korea. I was responsible for this, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. The Secretary of Defense was always advised of my whereabouts and actions, and constantly assessed that I had the proper authorities to defend when necessary. Additionally, I was responsible for supporting any lead federal agency (DHS, FEMA, etc.) in defense support to civil authorities, most notably during hurricanes, wildfires and other disasters. As the military lead working with our allies, Canada, Mexico and the Bahamas, I ensured our military relationship remained steadfast, independent of the political winds. My second hat, Commander of North American Aerospace Defense Command, made me responsible to both the Secretary of Defense AND the Chief of Canadian Defense Staff. Meaning, I was responsible for the defense of the U.S. and Canada in the air domain, ensuring that we had adequate aerospace warning, aerospace sovereignty and maritime warning to defend both homelands.
It’s a lot of responsibility, and I wish I could say that I did a good job of taking care of myself, but I didn’t do as well as I should have. I tried to work out, but was never consistent. I tried to get a good night's sleep, but wasn’t always successful. I tried to eat healthfully, but time got in the way. While I had incredible deputies, in the end I was responsible and accountable, and when I retired I finally realized just how exhausted I was—something I have told my successors to be aware of. What I did learn, ultimately, was to control the things that I could. I’d provide advice when able or asked, then go back to controlling what I could. I could worry or obsess about the uncertainty, but that wouldn’t be helpful, it only deletes important “brain bytes” that I would need at a later date.
It was an amazing honor to be the first female combatant commander; I was humbled by the trust and confidence Secretary Carter and President Obama had in me. I had been the “first” for the majority of my jobs, and knew that I would be scrutinized intensely—was I good enough? Did I get the job because I was a woman? How did I act when I walked in a room as the only woman? I also learned that everyone—and I mean everyone, even those who didn’t even know me—had an opinion about my opportunities over the years, in the Air Force, in the joint world and in the international world. All of these lessons and experiences were amplified ten-fold when I became a combatant commander, on the national stage. I never wanted to let anyone down, or make them question my capabilities, so I know I added weight to my own shoulders. But I think that the best part of being the “first” is opening the door for more to follow, hoping that I was not the last.
