Life isn't a board game. Life is a city ... and it has many 'hoods.
Early in childhood, there is no dignity. The average child thinks very little of begging, pleading, pitching a fit, running about naked, whining, crying, bargaining, or generally doing whatever it takes to get what they want (or to get away from what they don't want). Childhood also seems to give us VERY short memories, which probably contributes to the equation. Most adults do not remember each time they begged, pleaded, pitched fits, etc as children ... but it sure seemed important at the time. With all those tantrums and whatnot, some would say that these actions are lack of self-awareness, lack of modesty, lack of ego - but, when all is said and done, if you plug in an adult in any of those situations, you'd probably think that they had little - or no - dignity ... and maybe short-term memory loss.
Teens also lack dignity. Yes, the level of fit-pitching, whining, crying, or bargaining may be different ... but it is hard and unusual to find a dignity-filled teen. (A teen running around naked would present entirely other issues, lack of dignity being the smallest problem.) They have moments of dignity, where the future adult they'll become shines through and it is WONDERFUL to witness, but then they slip back into teenager-hood.
But, somewhere down the line, human grown-ups (which is to say MOST human grown-ups) find their dignity. That line in the sand we stand behind and say "Yes, I want this outcome and am willing to do most anything to get there ... but there is a limit." This is the age of "adulthood".
Just when we get comfortable with our dignity ... just when we feel we have the most control over how we present ourselves and we are good with our self-image ... life, once again, starts to slowly chip away at our dignity.
The paperboy or grocery clerk who calls you "Ma'am".
*clink*
The polite teen who turns down their MP3 device in the elevator and apologizes for it being so loud.
*tap*
The coworker who refers to an event in history (several years before you were born) and turns to you to ask you what your memories were of that time.
*crack*
The movie theater cashier who gives you a senior discount ... for your 45th birthday.
*thwap*
The well-intentioned stranger who compliments your children for good behavior by commenting "My but they're using all their manners for Grandpop today, aren't they?"
*thud*
It is the perfect set up that we, as humans, slowly revert back into childhood the older we get. First fighting and resisting all offers of help ... but eventually accepting the fact that we cannot bend over to tie our own shoes without getting dizzy, cannot read the small writing at the bottom of the form because our arms aren't long enough, and our modesty, our ego, and yes, our dignity, slowly melt away with each event, no matter how small.
And you realize that you're being moved from your existing "hood" to make room for the newer (and younger) residents.
The trick - if there is one - may be to recognize and appreciate the hood you're in when you're there, fully realizing you'll be transitioning to another hood soon enough. It's when you're asked to move too early that the transition is difficult - when you're still enjoying your dignity and someone else says "we're looking out for you and helping you to get comfortable when you move to your new hood." No one wants to be reminded that they are temporary residents in their hood.
Now ... get off my lawn and outta my hood.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Balancing Vision and Ego
Once upon a time, I worked at NeXT.
I remember my time there as an on-going effort to keep the Design and Engineering departments focused and organized while they tried to keep up with the constantly shifting direction from "upper management". While it was a challenging environment to work in (to say the least), I remember it as a campus filled with energized, motivated and largely happy people.
I don't think anyone working there ever really doubted Mr. Jobs or his decisions, but the sheer amount of change the employee base was exposed to (a layoff of more than 50% of the entire staff base, going from the hardware to software business, moving facilities, partnering with companies we actively avoided in the past) ... I guess he didn't make many friends there towards the end before being brought back into the Apple orchard.
I was "just a temp" at the time. I'd decided I'd accomplished all I could at my previous employer and contacted an agency to find me something where I'd be challenged and rewarded appropriately for achievement. Which was a nice way of saying "get me into the electronics industry where the real money is". I was sent to interview at NeXT, which was interesting because the last time I'd driven around in part of the Bay Area was when it was near the city dump. Now, it was an industrial park with signs and green lawns and paved roads. It was beautiful, yanno, for being a collection of buildings near a dump and all.
The interview went well and the folks I talked to seemed really smart. They told the agency they wanted to get me under contract, and the agency said that'd be fine. I enjoyed my job, liked my staff, and was kept busy. However, my agency kept reminding me that it was a temporary assignment. And, in time, that began to bother me. After all - my manager and I worked well together ... and everyone SEEMED to think I was working out well ... but whenever I mentioned how things were going to the agency, the response would be "well that's great. Just remember, it's a temporary job." I'd be reminded of that each time I looked at my employee badge stamped "Contract Worker" or turned in a time sheet ... it got old and, frankly, a little insulting.
I started interviewing.
Since I was "just a temp", I guess I didn't feel I owed my manager an explanation or any advance warning. After all, I figured he had set up the contract and he knew it was a temporary assignment. I found what would become my new job on the first interview. The pay was incredible, the benefits were embarrassingly great, the location was perfect, I'd have my own office, make my own hours ... there was quite literally no downside to the job, except that it wasn't the temp job I already had with the staff I already knew.
A background check was conducted and when the offer letter was sent, I felt like framing it. It was the first time I'd be working for "more than my age" in thousands. (When I shared that with my sister, I learned she also measured her first real job offer that same way.) All the while, I wished I could just stay put, but there was no point in asking for what I already had been told I couldn't have. It was both exciting and frustrating - to see what could be but to know I couldn't be a part of it.
When the offer was written up, I went to my temp job and sat down with my manager. Honestly I figured he wouldn't care either way. Even so, I was still giving him 2 weeks notice and offered to train whomever would be the next temp. I felt I owed him that ... I'd been there for 8 months after all, even if I was "just a temp" and wasn't worth hiring. He looked at the offer letter and then up at me. "You accepted this already?" "I did. I want a regular job and since it can't be here, I think I can do well at this new place." He sighed. "I've been getting approvals for your offer letter for a few weeks now. It's for a higher salary than this. If I can get it to you before the end of today, will you call off the other job?"
It seemed that the "temp only" part of my assignment was the idea of the agency. After all, they got a payment for each week I was there. As long as I was a temp, they'd keep getting paid. (In my defense, it was the first time I'd worked for an agency and I was very young. I should have figured this out on my own, I know, but it didn't occur to me.) My temp staff, temp manager, temp co-workers, temp company really DID like me and appreciated my work. And, when I explained to my temp manager that I'd accepted and signed the offer letter of the new job and didn't want to go back on my word, he wasn't just gracious - he was proud of me for getting the offer and for having enough integrity to follow through, even if he was disappointed that I'd never had the guts to just ask for what I wanted, no matter who was telling me I couldn't have it.
Steve Jobs was once wildly criticized for having a huge ego when he responded to the comment "Apple builds what people want" by saying that no, that was wrong and that Apple showed people what they wanted before they even knew they wanted it. As it turned out, that WASN'T "ego" talking ... that was "vision". A lot of people today are using the word "visionary" because most of the successful CEO's we know by name only have "ego". The industry and the population it serves suffered a loss yesterday and it'll be a long while before we see that kind of "ego/vision" balance again.
I remember my time there as an on-going effort to keep the Design and Engineering departments focused and organized while they tried to keep up with the constantly shifting direction from "upper management". While it was a challenging environment to work in (to say the least), I remember it as a campus filled with energized, motivated and largely happy people.
I don't think anyone working there ever really doubted Mr. Jobs or his decisions, but the sheer amount of change the employee base was exposed to (a layoff of more than 50% of the entire staff base, going from the hardware to software business, moving facilities, partnering with companies we actively avoided in the past) ... I guess he didn't make many friends there towards the end before being brought back into the Apple orchard.
I was "just a temp" at the time. I'd decided I'd accomplished all I could at my previous employer and contacted an agency to find me something where I'd be challenged and rewarded appropriately for achievement. Which was a nice way of saying "get me into the electronics industry where the real money is". I was sent to interview at NeXT, which was interesting because the last time I'd driven around in part of the Bay Area was when it was near the city dump. Now, it was an industrial park with signs and green lawns and paved roads. It was beautiful, yanno, for being a collection of buildings near a dump and all.
The interview went well and the folks I talked to seemed really smart. They told the agency they wanted to get me under contract, and the agency said that'd be fine. I enjoyed my job, liked my staff, and was kept busy. However, my agency kept reminding me that it was a temporary assignment. And, in time, that began to bother me. After all - my manager and I worked well together ... and everyone SEEMED to think I was working out well ... but whenever I mentioned how things were going to the agency, the response would be "well that's great. Just remember, it's a temporary job." I'd be reminded of that each time I looked at my employee badge stamped "Contract Worker" or turned in a time sheet ... it got old and, frankly, a little insulting.
I started interviewing.
Since I was "just a temp", I guess I didn't feel I owed my manager an explanation or any advance warning. After all, I figured he had set up the contract and he knew it was a temporary assignment. I found what would become my new job on the first interview. The pay was incredible, the benefits were embarrassingly great, the location was perfect, I'd have my own office, make my own hours ... there was quite literally no downside to the job, except that it wasn't the temp job I already had with the staff I already knew.
A background check was conducted and when the offer letter was sent, I felt like framing it. It was the first time I'd be working for "more than my age" in thousands. (When I shared that with my sister, I learned she also measured her first real job offer that same way.) All the while, I wished I could just stay put, but there was no point in asking for what I already had been told I couldn't have. It was both exciting and frustrating - to see what could be but to know I couldn't be a part of it.
When the offer was written up, I went to my temp job and sat down with my manager. Honestly I figured he wouldn't care either way. Even so, I was still giving him 2 weeks notice and offered to train whomever would be the next temp. I felt I owed him that ... I'd been there for 8 months after all, even if I was "just a temp" and wasn't worth hiring. He looked at the offer letter and then up at me. "You accepted this already?" "I did. I want a regular job and since it can't be here, I think I can do well at this new place." He sighed. "I've been getting approvals for your offer letter for a few weeks now. It's for a higher salary than this. If I can get it to you before the end of today, will you call off the other job?"
It seemed that the "temp only" part of my assignment was the idea of the agency. After all, they got a payment for each week I was there. As long as I was a temp, they'd keep getting paid. (In my defense, it was the first time I'd worked for an agency and I was very young. I should have figured this out on my own, I know, but it didn't occur to me.) My temp staff, temp manager, temp co-workers, temp company really DID like me and appreciated my work. And, when I explained to my temp manager that I'd accepted and signed the offer letter of the new job and didn't want to go back on my word, he wasn't just gracious - he was proud of me for getting the offer and for having enough integrity to follow through, even if he was disappointed that I'd never had the guts to just ask for what I wanted, no matter who was telling me I couldn't have it.
Steve Jobs was once wildly criticized for having a huge ego when he responded to the comment "Apple builds what people want" by saying that no, that was wrong and that Apple showed people what they wanted before they even knew they wanted it. As it turned out, that WASN'T "ego" talking ... that was "vision". A lot of people today are using the word "visionary" because most of the successful CEO's we know by name only have "ego". The industry and the population it serves suffered a loss yesterday and it'll be a long while before we see that kind of "ego/vision" balance again.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Who Do You Trust?
Because of ... let's say "medical reasons", I've been spending quite a bit of time thinking of my health, hospitals, doctors, tests, etc. I think it's safe to say that folks tend to ignore thinking of these things when all is well. Very few individuals who are perfectly well and don't work in medicine wake up in a cold sweat thinking "why can't doctors spend more time explaining why they prescribe one medication and not another?".
I find myself defending decisions like that lately. I don't like it. And knowing that I'm defending these decisions against information gathered from an internet search? It makes me so damn angry that people can be that stupid.
(Sidenote: Did you know that out of 500 internet search phrases, the term "Gandhi walked on the moon" is still ranking higher than "Walt Disney's lifelong friendship with Fidel Castro"? Wow - you didn't know that? I found it on the web so it MUST be true. Except I'm lying - I didn't find it on the web. But I just wrote it so it's there now. See how reliable that is?!?)
Meanwhile, I come by my medical ignorance honestly. Even when faced with terms that apply to me, I choose to know only what is necessary when it is required ... four W's and one H: What is wrong?, Why is it happening?, What are we gonna do about it?, When does it go away?, and How do I ensure it doesn't happen again?
And I tend to ask professionals these questions (when at all possible). Let me put it this way ... the internet is, largely, anonymous. Anyone can write anything. We'd LIKE to believe that everyone always has the best of intentions ... but we know better than that. Trusting strangers with important things is dangerous. That butthead that cut you off in traffic could be the one telling you that bees are repelled by olive oil - do you trust him? The librarian that extended your book loan may be the one giving step-by-step directions on a do-it-yourself kidney removal ... is she the best person to get this info from?
Sure it's possible that the bad driver is a pest removal expert and the librarian is a retired surgeon ... but what if they aren't? Do you wanna be that gullible? Because we all know that it was actually Disney who walked on the moon. Why else would he name Mickey's dog Pluto?
I find myself defending decisions like that lately. I don't like it. And knowing that I'm defending these decisions against information gathered from an internet search? It makes me so damn angry that people can be that stupid.
(Sidenote: Did you know that out of 500 internet search phrases, the term "Gandhi walked on the moon" is still ranking higher than "Walt Disney's lifelong friendship with Fidel Castro"? Wow - you didn't know that? I found it on the web so it MUST be true. Except I'm lying - I didn't find it on the web. But I just wrote it so it's there now. See how reliable that is?!?)
Meanwhile, I come by my medical ignorance honestly. Even when faced with terms that apply to me, I choose to know only what is necessary when it is required ... four W's and one H: What is wrong?, Why is it happening?, What are we gonna do about it?, When does it go away?, and How do I ensure it doesn't happen again?
And I tend to ask professionals these questions (when at all possible). Let me put it this way ... the internet is, largely, anonymous. Anyone can write anything. We'd LIKE to believe that everyone always has the best of intentions ... but we know better than that. Trusting strangers with important things is dangerous. That butthead that cut you off in traffic could be the one telling you that bees are repelled by olive oil - do you trust him? The librarian that extended your book loan may be the one giving step-by-step directions on a do-it-yourself kidney removal ... is she the best person to get this info from?
Sure it's possible that the bad driver is a pest removal expert and the librarian is a retired surgeon ... but what if they aren't? Do you wanna be that gullible? Because we all know that it was actually Disney who walked on the moon. Why else would he name Mickey's dog Pluto?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)