Talented Mentee For Hire! (Pass It On!)

I'd like to introduce you to Hilda, one of my talented mentees. I hired Hilda 6 years ago to be the site Human Resources Manager for our West Coast Distribution Center in California. So Hilda was there when we acquired the site, and she was part of the team that closed down the DC this month as part of ongoing consolidations caused by industry and economic changes.

I'd hire Hilda again in a heartbeat.

If you're looking for a talented HR Manager based about 15 miles south of LAX, you can find Hilda's profile here, on LinkedIn.

And if for some reason you are not on LinkedIn, send me an email and I'll forward you Hilda's contact information. Here's the unsolicited recommendation I posted on Hilda's LinkedIn profile:

"I personally recruited and hired Hilda in 2004 as the site Human Resources Manager for our West Coast distribution center and merchandising branch office, and I would not hesitate to hire Hilda again. She is a highly skilled HR professional with the ability to remain calm, empathetic and firm regardless of the situation or issue. Because of her skills and demeanor, she was very much respected by her colleagues and her internal customers during her 6-year tenure: critical for the success of any seasoned HR practitioner. Both the Vice President of Logistics and I considered Hilda to be a key member of the site leadership team, and in fact, we both considered her as potential bench for the site General Manager position: that's how strong a business partner she is.

Hilda's strong knowledge of California labor law and compliance was invaluable as we ramped up our operations in 2004, and her strong recruiting skills ensured that the DC was always properly staffed. Hilda is only on the market as a result of the closing of West Coast operation this past year (which she also helped facilitate), and that availability will greatly benefit the next organization lucky enough to hire Hilda into her next career position."

I'm proud to personally and professionally vouch for Hilda, and to do so in a proactive and public manner. There are a few motivating reasons, and the first and most important reason is to support Hilda in expeditiously securing her next job.

Secondly, to share as a best practice.  I've used a variation of this method for another talented mentee before: Laurie. She came to me shortly after returning from maternity leave, and asked for my help: the combination of the childcare and the commute wasn't working out, and she needed an HR job closer to home. I was touched by her authenticity and yet was not surprised by it at all, knowing full well how talented she is. I helped her get her C.V. ready, and in an out-of-the-box move (an updated variation of the networking theme that my first manager Nan started with me), I sent it via an email singing her praises to all of the heads of HR (about 38 of them) within a 10-mile radius of Laurie's home. One of them responded immediately (and wisely), hiring Laurie within the week into a position that had not yet been advertised. We then negotiated a transition until Laurie and I could hire her replacement. Laurie was subsequently promoted to the AVP of HR for her new organization.  Your basic win-win.

Aside from championing Hilda to her next position, I also want to encourage all of you, my fellow hiring-authorities and decision-makers, to use your discretionary power to champion the jewels of talent you know and/or mentor, and who have been arbitrarily and capriciously cast out onto the market of an economy that none of us ever imagined.

Proactively "pre-recommend" these available talent jewels by sending their information to other hiring-authorities and decision-makers. (And if this has been your practice especially during this last recession, please share your success stories here and elsewhere and spread the best practice so it can expand and grow!)

The economically impacted (the laid-off) do not need to become the next marginalized class. Those of us who have sat on both sides of the layoff table and who are currently in hiring-authority and decision-maker positions (there but for the grace of God go we!) absolutely have the power to shift that now-outdated paradigm: that if someone has been laid off, they must be inferior human capital. It is, more often than not, in these economic times, a false assessment, and I can personally prove it.  Hilda is just one of a number of shining examples to that passe' paradigm's contrary.

Years ago, in diversity training, we learned that if we were in one of the real / perceived power groups (male, Caucasian etc.), that we had a choice: that we could each personally shift the paradigm by using our discretionary power, and be inclusive of folks in more marginalized groups, rather than exclude them by default, ignorance or fear. Today, no one is more potentially marginalized than the laid-off and the unemployed. Thankfully, we have a choice: we can see them for the jewels of talent they are, and we, the employed hiring-authorities and decision-makers, can use our discretionary power and stand up personally, professionally, and publicly for them, and ultimately, for each other.

Or as my 9 year-old son learned in Sunday school:

"He drew a circle that shut me out— Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout. But Love and I had the wit to win: We drew a circle that took him in!" 

-- Edwin Markham

Thank You Fer Teh Job Oppertunity

Gentle reader:  whether you are looking for a new job, or you're looking to be retained and/or promoted in your current organization, I beseech you, I beg you, I implore you.  Please proof what you send to hiring authorities and decision-makers.  Emails, documents, etc.  It's so sad and tragic when you don't.  Repeatedly.  

Seriously, stop it.  You need a job.

Speaking of which:  I'm not going to repeat verbatim in today's blog post my blog post from last August, Write Your Life, Write Your Career.  Read my advice as a hiring authority and a decision-maker to you there.  Not learning to write and proof to minimal business standards is, at the very least, a career-killer.

Those of you who don't proof your work and are subsequently not hearing back from the job applications you submit:  I'm going to give you some brief yet poignant examples as to why:

• state university of ny, albany ny

(Hint: it's not proper grammar, and since I know for a fact that e.e. cummings is dead, you're definitely not hearing back from me);

• Shift Manger, Ruby Tuesday's

(I love mangers, especially at this time of the year:  what does this have to do with your management experience?);

• Sent From My Verizon Wireless mobile phone

(Not as impressive as it was a few years ago; now it's definitely just lazy.  Not a real signature.  You can change this default signature yourself, just check the Verizon Wireless website or ask Tech Support at your local Verizon Wireless store);

•  Subject:  Your Career Oppertunity

(Big ouch.  You misspelled the email subject line.  I don't even open up your email, I just move it from my email Inbox to the Candidate Regret folder); 

 

• Education:  Saratoga Springs High School        

(I know font formatting in emails can get messed up in web transit; that's why you should attach your C.V. as well as cut and paste your C.V. into the body of the email.  Otherwise, it's like receiving an anonymous ransom note from a serial killer with a lack of attention to detail);

•  Hi:  I'm interested in teh job.

 (Hi.  You don't know me, therefore "Hi" is inappropriately too familiar for a cover letter salutation.  And you misspelled "the."   As the hiring authority, two strikes against you as the candidate.  We won't be familiar any time soon).

Note: please consider any typos you find in this blog post as a pop quiz.

Happy education; happy hunting; and happy holidays to you and yours!      

Be Part of the Solution at Work

Early in my career, I (thankfully) was taught that when raising an issue or a problem to my manager, I should also be prepared to present at least one viable solution ready for implementation to solve the issue or problem, if not more.  It has served me well in my career, and I coach my mentees accordingly. 

Among other services, working in the Human Resources function is the internal Customer Service function for most organizations, a.k.a., some days, Complaint Central. (Actually, in the more progressive organizations, we all work in Internal Customer Service.)

Not that I mind that function.  I take it as an opportunity to share the wealth and coach Complainants on how they can be part of the solution to the problems they raise (or cause).  Work, especially these days, can be stressful, and folks need opportunities to vent.   Most take the coaching.  Some just don't get it.

Those who don't get it will eventually lose their jobs.  Bottom line. Bitter and blotchy, as my friend Nan coined.  Always complaining and gossiping to anyone who will listen.  And, amazingly, it happens at all organizational levels, from clerk to executive, and regardless of age and/or experience.   If you don't think constantly pissing in the organization's soup is also pissing in your own soup, you're kidding yourself, or you're impaired, or perhaps both.

The one thing we can control in tough work situations, real or imagined (the imagined involves personal baggage that should be resolved via the appropriate therapy, not where you earn your livelihood and your reputation), is how we act and react.  Partner with an objective coach and/or mentor outside of your workplace.  Lay out the situation factually.  Ask for honest feedback and most importantly, listen to it and incorporate it.  Not only will it be career-changing, it may well change the rest of your life, for the better.

A poignant and real-life illustration was the new hire who was fired at the end of their initial orientation period for constantly complaining to their peers and playing up sweetly to their superiors.  "They did a great job technically, the customers loved them," their manager related.  "But they drove the rest of the employees crazy with their complaining.  It was disrupting everyone's productivity, including mine!" Amen.

Let there be peace at work, and let it begin with you.

Stay

My favorite cover of the song "Stay" is Jackson Browne's 1978 version.

The song ran through my head as I chatted with a friend about their new job.  They left for more money and the new firm's good reputation internally and externally, which I confirmed via my knowledge of two members of their executive team.  They also left their old firm because the management often engaged in "do what I say, not as I do," especially when it came to organization-wide compensation parity.  I love Jackson Browne's version, by the way, not only because I like the way he sings it, but also how he shows appreciation for the roadies and the fans.

As usual, I was reminded of one of my best managers and mentors:  Bill.  If I had the choice, I would have worked for Bill the rest of my career, and here are a few reasons why:

• I was a transfer-hire from another unit of our larger corporation, and I met with Bill on the day he tendered my formal job offer, knowing that I would receive a 3% raise for the new job.  Bill presented me with an offer letter outlining a 14% raise.  Incredulous, I asked why.  "You were underpaid and I brought you up to market.  I also believe in exceeding talented new hires' expectations a bit, so they come in on a high note, ready to do a great job, "  Bill replied.  He had me literally at hello.
• Bill was a consummate teacher and coach:  every moment spent with Bill was a learning moment.  We both shared the same belief:  if you stopped learning, you were dead.
• Bill championed me while holding me constantly accountable:  a winning combination that serves me to this day.
• Bill continued to reward my talent, promotability and performance from both a compensation and a promotional standpoint.
• He couched the toughest feedback with a mentor's love:  "I'm giving you this feedback because I believe in your talent and potential, and this is to best position you for success."
• Bill genuinely enjoyed spending time with us:  he, my friend and supervisor Nicola and I would have dinner together once or twice a week, to decompress and share the week's war stories.  Not only were those dinners fun, they were the equivalent of graduate-level seminars.
• He took me to all meetings at every level, right from the beginning:  with the executives, the union, everyone.  At first I just took notes, and quickly he pulled me into the mix as part of his team.
• His core values were resonant with mine; and he worked harder than we did.
• And instead of keeping me in position to ensure that his work got done, his goal was to get me promoted:  the merit badge of a manager's / mentor's success.  And he did, pushing me to a promotion at another business unit, even though I wanted to stay in my job, as a member of his team.  But he was right, as usual.

I strive to emulate what I experienced with Bill, as both a manager and a team member.  To work, create and achieve in an environment where all I want to do is, well, stay.

What is your "stay;" and how do you stay:  as a leader and as a team member?

Leading Jerks is Idiot's Poker

Earlier this holiday weekend, I tweeted the link to Bob Sutton's poignant New York Times article How Bad Apples Infect the Tree.

The poignant part was Dr. Sutton's story about the Silicon Valley executive he called Ruth, and how effectively she detached from the prevailing jerk culture in her workplace: 

When I asked Ruth how she kept her sanity amid the meanness at the company, she told me about some advice she had received as a teenager from a river rafting guide: If you fall out of the boat, don’t fight the rapids. Just rely on your life vest and float with your feet out in front of you. That way, if you are thrown up against the rocks, you can use your feet to push off, and you’ll protect your head and conserve energy. 

The very day she got that advice, Ruth fell overboard while traversing rapids in the “Satan’s Cesspool” section of the American River in California. After a wild trip with her feet stretched out in front of her, Ruth wasn’t hurt and felt exhilarated. 

Ruth explained that she used the Satan’s Cesspool strategy to survive those nasty meetings some 30 years later. Verbal barbs bounced off of her, just as the rocks had bounced off her feet long ago. When the personal attacks, dirty looks and finger-pointing commenced, she stretched out her feet in front of her under the table, and told herself, “I just got thrown out of the boat by these jerks, but I know how to survive.

Instead of seeing herself as a victim, Ruth felt strong and in control. She shared her strategy with fellow victims in the office, and it helped them endure the slings and arrows as well. 

Ruth’s strategy was effective because it enabled her to reframe the nastiness so she could become emotionally detached — to “prevent the poison from touching my soul,” as she put it.

I love the method, visualization and metaphor of resiliency and maintaining personal power of being thrown out of the boat by jerks yet knowing how to survive in the face of the ebb and flow of workplace threats.  Dealing effectively with and detaching from workplace jerks is the first important step towards building a jerk-free workplace:  very similar to the 12-step program process of dealing effectively with and detaching from active and dry alcoholics who have yet to take responsibility for their own sobriety / recovery.  Truth be told, workplace jerks and dry drunks are fairly interchangeable, and usually end up being one in the same.

Amen also to Dr. Sutton's assertion that one jerk can bring a whole workplace down a negative spiral.  Sutton further asserts that such jerks need to be reformed, and if necessary, expelled.

However, nothing can beat the time-suck oxymoron of attempting to lead / manage workplace jerks at any organizational level:  and listening to the lame defense that the jerk makes the organization a lot of money and we should work together to heal them - praise the Lord and pass the ammunition!  Okay, then let's talk about the jerk's impact on employee, vendor and customer recruitment, retention, productivity, reputation and morale:  are they still making us a boatload of cash after those factors are added to their net cost-benefit?  Been there, done that.

It truly is a game of organizational idiot's poker:  everyone loses and we all look like morons, including, last but not least, the problematic jerk.  It's not the first conversation to attempt to heal the jerk that's frustrating; it's the 6th conversation.  (Oh dear, that anger management class didn't work:  shall we have another <undocumented> come-to-Jesus meeting with them?)  All that time wasted on a jerk who won't or can't change, when we could have used our meeting time instead to achieve our organizational goals. 

What do I mean?  Only rarely can a workplace jerk be reformed / coached -- I have seen it happen, but in my experience, it is absolutely the rare exception.   A workplace jerk only gets better if they have a personal epiphany (e.g. hitting a bottom) which motivates them to change their ways on their own.  Or if the jerk's ass is soundly kicked by a bigger organizational alpha dog.  Usually it's only the former that institutes real change and reforms a workplace jerk.  The latter almost always gets you a temporary cease-fire of lip-service, white-knuckling and empty promises.  It's like a time-bomb ticking:  I can usually predict when the explosion of pent-up dysfunction will take place: when the jerk will screech like a strangled banshee in a team meeting, finger-pointing over an imagined affront.  No one wins in this particular game of idiot's poker.

Instead, consider managing jerks through a well-documented and consistent progressive disciplinary / performance process:  verbal; written; final written; performance improvement plan (if for some reason the organizational torture needs to be prolonged); termination.

If they don't get better, promote them to customers, as we used to say in one of my organizations.  You will be on the side of the angels, the numbers, and most importantly, your customers and employees.

I'd Like to Thank My Board of Directors

While I have served on several nonprofit Boards of Directors and have learned a great deal from those experiences, nothing compares to my personal Board of Directors.

In both entrepreneurial and career endeavors, and through the detours and roundabouts to follow my bliss, my personal Board of Directors has been both the sounding board and the crucible in which I've forged each phase of my vocational journey.   And it has truly been a wonderful journey.

In this season of Thanksgiving, I'd like to thank (in no particular order and certainly not inclusive of all who have shepherded and walked beside me on my career path):

• My dad, who brought me to his office when I was 4 years old, years before Take Our Children to Work Day, inspiring me to want to get a job on the spot;
• My college friend Portia, who suggested that I apply to the New York State Assembly Internship program, which led to my first job out of college as a writer;
• My first boss Nan, who first taught me how to network for fun and profit, sparking a lifelong passion which has also led me to some amazing career experiences, the equivalent of several master's degrees;
• Miss Lee, my 4th grade teacher:  she conducted monthly writing contests (poetry and prose), awarding the winner $1.00, teaching me that I could write for a living (I won a few times);
• My former boss Carol, whom I helped hire as our organization's first female VP and who insisted that I get my SPHR certification, supporting me with both time and funding to do so;
• My stepmother Judy, who as the formidable and competent head merchant of a successful clothing chain, made executive achievement accessible and real to me;
• Bob, my former boss who "saw" me and what I had to offer his organization, creating both a job and wonderful career experience for me as a result of a courtesy networking meeting;
• My former boss Bill, who tirelessly coached me on a daily basis because he believed in me and my talent; 
• My friend and colleague Judy, who recognized my Operations leadership potential and connected me to my first of several broadening experiences thereof;
• My friend and colleague Georgia, who recognized my CEO / President potential and named it when I could not;
• My husband and my son, who sustain me with the unwavering faith and belief in my talents and capabilities; 
• My friend and colleague Dale, who taught me everything he knew about loss prevention, retail and corporate life;
• My fellow writers:  Joel (my husband), Katie, Anne and Nancy - your talent inspires me;
• My friend and colleague Barry, who taught me distribution operations and to shake off setbacks;
• My friend and colleague / partner Ron, who has journeyed with me through the ebbs and flows of the economy in support of our mutual success;
• My former mentees, who taught me as much as I taught them, and who have equaled and /or exceeded my career achievements:  Jeff, Julie, Laurie, Melissa, Alison;
• My friends Anne, Cathy, Avon, Kathleen, Andrea and John, who work successfully for themselves and who encourage me to break free from the gilded cage of employment;
• My friend and colleague Concetta, who during an 8-hour lunch one snowy Saturday, urged me to use my native interest and skills and get trained and certified as a mediator;
• My former minister, Priscilla, who is a beacon of female leadership in her own discipline and who nurtures mine;
• My clients, for teaching me how to work for myself and that ultimately, I am the source of my income;
• My HR buddies Sue, Lisa, Lynn and Meg, whose professional calibrations are worth their weight in gold;
• My fellow GE alums Allen and Patty, and my friend and colleague Linda, whose love and support is mutual (and for encouraging me to pursue my bliss in teaching / leading workshops and seminars);
• My friend and colleague Alissa, who recognized my entrepreneurial spirit / potential and named it:  Deb Best Practices.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Do you have a personal Board of Directors?  If so, have you thanked them lately?

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!

Stop and Listen for the Needs Underneath the Yelling

As a native of Queens, NY, I used to have only two communications gears:  speaking loudly and yelling.  Due in part to our geographic location and also due to our family's ethnic and cultural paradigm.

Subsequently, I have spent my entire adult life in the Albany, New York area.  Even at this writing, most Albany natives rarely use their horns to defensively drive.  It's considered rude.  In other words, when you honk your horn around here, it's a form of automotive yelling.  Yes, it's one of my few remaining vices.

At the beginning of my HR career, I was not only lucky enough to receive extensive formal and on-the-job training, but I was also taught and repeatedly trained to develop other communications gears besides downshifting into Queens.  The success profile of my organization at the time was reserved and analytical. I am anything but reserved, but also analytical.  The coaching, for the most part, was therefore successful.  After every meeting together, my boss Bill would take me aside.  "You did very well in the meeting," Bill would say.  "However, I have one piece of coaching for you:  speak less and more softly." Bill was a wonderful mentor and I think of him often, all these years later.  Even at those coaching moments when I sighed and wanted a coaching rain-check, I treasure his perseverance and interest in molding me for success and subsequent promotion.

One of my first HR client managers there was the Purchasing Manager; he was a great guy who drove a Harley to work every day, rain or shine, and relished beating the stuffing out of our vendors, as was our organization's performance norm for the Purchasing function.  He and I were two very loud peas in a padded pod, and very much the organizational culture's exception.  We had a rambunctious debate on an employee relations issue in front of one of my more experienced and very reserved HR colleagues.  "Wow," my HR colleague said, "that's the loudest conversation I've ever witnessed at work." (Wow, I thought -- really?) "Why did you two have to yell at each other?"  He was genuinely upset.  Both the Purchasing Manager and I were surprised.  "We just had a great conversation and resolved the issue, we weren't yelling at each other," the Purchasing Manager reassured my HR colleague.  "No worries.  I need my HR person to be direct and to the point."

Bill's coaching sank in nonetheless:  I consciously and for the most part consistently modulated my tone of voice and developed my HR poker face, and learned to listen first and talk later.  Completely out of my comfort zone, but part of the Zen practice to achieve my goal to do human resources and organization effectiveness work.

At my next organization, yelling was the communications norm.  However, something wonderful clicked early in my tenure there.  Because I listened first -- or as Covey would say, I sought first to understand, rather than to be understood -- that's where I first started to hear the needs underneath the yelling.

We were in the process of acquiring another company, and we were making relocation employment offers to several of the other company's employees located out of town.  Since the acquisition had triggered a WARN (Worker Adjustment and Retraining Notification) Act scenario, these employees had 30 days to consider the relocation employment offers.

My boss at time, one of the organization's executives and not an HR professional by background, was, to put it mildly, livid.  In the privacy of his office, he yelled for 20 minutes straight about the absurdity of the WARN Act and how it was preventing him (and us) from conducting our business.  I immediately understood that he was mad at the WARN Act and not at me.  "I know, it's very frustrating," I murmured periodically.  At one point, when he paused to catch his breath, I gently observed:  "You know, I find the IRS Tax Code completely frustrating and illogical.  But like the WARN Act, we're forced to follow it too."  He immediately calmed down, and apologized 3 times to me for yelling. "No worries," I responded.  "I know how you feel, legal and compliance boundaries are often frustrating."

Clearly, there's a time and a place for yelling, preferably in private.  And there's a clear distinction between loud emoting and loud (demeaning) abuse.  I'd rather have my partners and customers at work be authentic, and at times, they need to yell.  In a functional culture, yelling is definitely more the exception rather than the rule, at all levels.  When change is occurring, yelling can be part of the flak we experience from each other as we get closer to the change target.

During my training as a mediator with Mediation Matters, our trainer, Duke Fisher, confirmed my HR experience in needs-identification perfectly.  He encouraged us through role-play and other mediation training experiences that the key to mediating conflict (whether it's over dog poop or international relations) is to first have the courage to listen for the needs underneath the yelling without taking it personally.  And that when one party keeps yelling about the same issue, that's one of several divining rods to accurately isolate the needs underneath the yelling, which in turn will become the building blocks of a solution to move forward.  To meet needs and create peace.

The source of all human conflict, Duke taught us, is needs met and unmet.

I'm here to listen, whether you're yelling or not:  just tell me what you need.

Please and Thank You!

I was 15 years old and out on a shopping trip with a beloved female relative in the New York / Metropolitan area where I was born and raised.

It was a hot summer day, and we stopped for lunch.  As we perused our menus, our waitress came to our table to take our drink order, depositing glasses of ice water in the process.  "I'll have an iced coffee," my relative said, not looking up from the menu and sipping her ice water.  "Debbie, why don't you try one?"

I smiled up at the waitress.  "I'll have an iced coffee too, please."  The waitress smiled back.  "Sure thing, sweetie, I'll be right back."  (Note:  the waitress had not smiled at Beloved Relative.)

Beloved Relative touched my arm affectionately as the waitress padded away from our table.  "Debbie, you don't have to do that."  I was confused: were the rules looser with Beloved Relative than when dining out with my Marine Corps father?  "You mean I don't have to keep my elbows off the table?"  I guessed.

"No," she said sotto voce as the waitress approached with our iced coffees.  "You don't have to say 'please' or  'thank you' to a waitress."  The waitress reached our table and served our iced coffees with dishes of creamers and Sweet 'n Low.  "There you go girls, enjoy!  Let me know when you're ready to order lunch."  On auto-pilot, I replied "Thank you." to the waitress.  "You're welcome!" she replied back and walked over to another one of her tables.

The coaching from Beloved Relative was now earnest and unsmiling. "Debbie, now what did I say?"  I didn't like displeasing Beloved Relative.  "Sorry, I couldn't help it."  I was puzzled at her rule, however.  "Why don't you say 'please' and 'thank you' to a waitress?"

Beloved Relative was hungry, and waved at the waitress to return to our table to take our lunch order.  "So she knows who's in charge," she said, affirmatively and definitively.

Well, the coaching from Beloved Relative didn't work: I still say please and thank you, whether I'm addressing a waitress, my son or husband, a customer, a vendor, my boss, the folks I work with or a colleague.  And I teach my son Noah to do the same.

And while it's sometimes hard work, especially when the other party is insufferably rude, whether it's in writing or in person, I pretty much mean what I say and affect the matching tone of please and thank you.  That's part of my customer service training, and the rest is Marine Corps' good manners.  I'm certainly not perfect, or always 100% successful.  However, my intent is consistent.

When managers at any level order work direction from their teams like Beloved Relative ordering iced coffee without saying "please" and "thank you," I suspect it includes but is not limited to at least one or all of the following possible scenarios:

• Like Beloved Relative, they think the absence of "please" and "thank you" lets everyone know they're in charge;
• They weren't raised with good manners;
• They were mentored by an asshole (in the spirit of full disclosure, so was I);
• They're afraid, insecure, etc.;
• They speak without thinking or caring about the impact of their words or behavior on those around them;
• They're delirious or otherwise impaired.

Now, I've worked with organizations where extensive work was done to improve employee engagement and retention, including but not limited to elaborate surveys and subsequent analysis paralysis.  These same organizations also continued to employ managers and executives who not only did not use please and thank you as simple yet consistently effective engagement and retention tools, but these same managers and executives also regularly terrorized anyone in their radius, subordinate or colleague alike, while playing up sweetly and cloyingly to compensation and promotional decision-makers above them.  Bleah.  It was not only inauthentic and the polar opposite of engagement, it was also nauseating.

Bob Sutton, author of The No-Asshole Rule and Good Boss, Bad Boss, sums up the power of thank you eloquently in his blog post, Thanks. A really neglected form of compensation.  No surveys or analysis paralysis needed here to achieve authentic engagement.

My friend and former colleague Elaine, a career customer service pro, doesn't need Bob Sutton to point out these basics to her.  "Please and Thank You!"  she'd sing all day long in a one-phrase mantra, her glass full of motivation to get the job done for her devoted customers.

Thank you for reading my blog post; please have a great week!

Don't Phone in Your Performance

NPR's termination of their correspondent Juan Williams via a phone call after his questionable comments on the Fox Network has grabbed headlines over the last week.

Williams' termination has a number of fascinating facets to consider, and I'd like to focus on how he was terminated by NPR:  via a phone call.  Look how it has bruised NPR's reputation. 

Specifically, terminating an employee by phone (or email, or text message, or by any other electronic or non-electronic means, such as the U.S. Mail) who is not a danger to themselves or others is inauthentic, disrespectful and just not good business. Videoconferencing is even a stretch. 

In the case of terminations for cause, e.g. theft, progressively documented poor performance, failure to adhere to company policies, failure to work scheduled hours, etc., when documented accurately and communicated consistently, the face-to-face discussions are actually brief and to the point.  No surprises.  The employee has effectively terminated themselves.  And they usually feel bad and take responsibility during the discussion, and occasionally apologize.  That's what happens when you conduct the disciplinary / termination process authentically, and consistently, without making exceptions, particularly potentially discriminatory exceptions. 

When you operate from a premise of truth and you have prepared in terms of documentation, procedure and contingency, the face-to-face discussion, and your potential discomfort in the anticipation thereof, take care of themselves.

Several good reasons which support the good old-fashioned face-to-face method, and your courage to take that route.

I am also a strong advocate of having the supervisor drive the termination discussion. After all, they are the organization's management representative with the best first-hand knowledge of the employee's performance, in continued support of authenticity.  As the HR subject-matter expert, of course I don't mind sitting in on termination discussions to support the supervisor and provide the recommended witness to such discussions.  If a supervisor is inexperienced and asks for help, I will drive the discussion for them as a coaching moment to train the supervisor in order to prepare them to drive their next termination discussion.

Delegating a termination discussion to HR "because they're the experts" deprives both the employee and the supervisor of dignity and closure.

I've experienced very few exceptions where termination by phone or mail make sense.  One memorable example is the employee who was constructing weapons and storing them at their work station.  Upon discovery of their cache, I walked them out of the building and subsequently mailed their termination letter to them, return receipt requested. I was spared the potential safety issue of being in the same room with them thereafter when they dropped their unemployment insurance claim after I included a picture of their weapons in the employer's document challenging their claim.

In Williams' case, there doesn't appear to be any safety issues:  he just shot off his mouth and subsequently shot himself in the foot:  metaphorically speaking, of course.

Another example is acting as a witness by phone to a manager in a remote location while he terminated his employee in person.

In our roles as managers and leaders (and in general), unquestionably, both difficult and good news is best delivered face-to-face.  In the case of Juan Williams, I would have advised the decision-maker to first take a step back and quickly plan the most authentic course of action to best support the needs and esteem of all parties involved.  Terminating Williams by a phone call would not have been one of my recommendations.

In support of your success:  don't phone in your performance.

Decide to Ask Forgiveness

At the beginning of my HR career, I practiced dithering.  It was totally driven by fear:  fear that I would make the wrong decision and create unimaginable legal exposure (and costs) to my company.  And lose my job.  And be branded with the HR version of the Scarlett Letter, a big red "H" on my forehead.  And never be hired again.

Yikes, I'm annoying myself just conjuring up that state of mind for your reading pleasure.

You see, I liked being right.  Come on, part of me still does, ask anyone who knows and loves me:  thankfully, the volume of being right all of the time has been turned down to a manageable whisper.  And the practice of HR compliance in particular often lends itself to being vocationally right while concurrently justifying a drive for perfection.  Hi, my name is Deb and I'm one of the recovering righteous.

As a method of getting my work done despite my dithering, I would run to my supervisor Nicola to reality-check every move I made, from completing paperwork to conducting an investigation.  I was almost always correct in my decisions, however I wasn't comfortable making a move without Nicola's blessing.

Wisely, Nicola nipped this behavior in the bud.  "It's for your own good," Nicola said.  "You're not allowed to ask me questions between the hours of 8 AM and 5 PM.  You'll be fine, I trust you."  Patently unfair.  Back then, I was not an early riser and the thought of making a decision without consulting Nicola during the course of the workday was extremely uncomfortable.  But Nicola always had my back, and I trusted her decision to cut me loose.  Her faith in me reinforced my faith in my own good instincts, training and intellect.  Thanks, Nic.

So began my journey into leadership decision-making:  asking forgiveness rather than permission, and making (as is always my hope and goal) a decision in a timeframe that moves the work of my organization forward to best support everyone's success.

Don't get me wrong:  while at this point in my vocational journey I have almost no problem making timely and informed decisions, embracing the learnings from the mistakes that result from making the wrong decision are still much harder than just letting my inner perfectionist kick my ass for a good long while.  But I strive for the learnings nonetheless, especially the self-forgiveness that lets me off the hook long enough to learn to do it better the next time.

Doing the right thing to support organizational success more often than not involves taking a stand and making a timely decision, which is not the same, by the way, as always being right.

There is always the risk that the decision you make for your organization may be the wrong one.  However, no decision at all is not only failure, but abdication of leadership and responsibility.

Submitted for your consideration:  the decision to ask forgiveness, of each other and ourselves, is an act of creative risk fraught with infinite possibilities of success.

Best Practice: Leading with an Attitude of Gratitude and Appreciation

Last week, I was privileged to bear witness to an amazing recognition experience.

Like many of us who volunteer our time and talent, I am a professional volunteer mediator for Mediation Matters in the Albany, NY area.   The life-long learning experiences of co-mediating employment, family and small-claims court disputes and the companion basic and advanced in-service trainings have been and are thanks enough for me; they had me at hello.

A definite bonus was the annual volunteer recognition dinner held at Longfellows in Saratoga Springs, NY last week and underwritten by one of Mediation Matters' donors.  Great food by Longfellows as usual.  Several of the judges whose courts are supported by the alternative dispute resolution services offered by the organization expressed their gratitude for the work of the volunteers; wonderful to hear as well.

Clearly, the icing on the cake was when Sarah, the Deputy Executive Director, stepped up to the podium to recognize us volunteers.  Before one of her colleagues handed each of us a recognition certificate, Sarah proceeded to recognize each and every volunteer and staff member (including her boss, Peter, the Executive Director) with a heart-felt and authentic description of the unique talents and contributions each of us - at least 5 - 6 minutes for each volunteer and staff member, nearly 40 of us in the room - had brought to support the good work of Mediation Matters in the past year.  I was completely blown away by the time and care Sarah had taken to lift each of us up publicly.

Of course, Peter, her boss, completed the process by lifting up Sarah's wonderful contribution as well.

I don't quite remember exactly what Sarah said when she spoke about me (I was misty-eyed and realizing in the moment why Sarah had urged me to attend the dinner), however I do remember her saying that I brought hope to my mediations with my positive energy.

In return, Sarah reinforced my hope and optimism for how leadership can not only engage, but literally transform organizations.  What gifts would we all, as leaders, engender in our organizations if we were to all authentically recognize the true gifts of each member of our organization, one by one, publicly, privately and consistently?

It is Appreciative Inquiry in action:  that we will only as individuals and organizations (and athletes and sports teams, by the way) accelerate success to the level of transformation we all seek by focusing on recruiting, placing and developing strengths, not weaknesses.

As mediators, we are taught the simple but powerful tenet that the source of all human conflict comes down to needs met and unmet.

And that mediation is hosting the conversation between two parties in conflict, so they can together create a new solution that meets the needs of all.  It is tranformative justice on the micro level.  It is the same process used to negotiate peace in international conflicts

How will you use your leadership role to transform the path of success by leveraging the strengths of all to meet the needs of both the organization and the individuals who comprise it?

Chicken Soup and Change Management

The impact of change on the people in an organization is like turning on the burner under a pot of uncooked chicken soup.

As the water around the components - the chicken parts, the vegetables and the spices - heats up and begins to boil, detritus floats to the top, foamy, fatty and dirty, which should be skimmed off several times during the cooking process to optimize the chicken soup product.

In other words, the heat makes the crap float to the top.

Every time you make chicken soup, it's the same reliable routine.

The female relative who taught me to make chicken soup strains everything out of the soup once it's cooked.  She saves the boiled chicken and serves it for dinner, and throws away all the vegetables.  The remaining broth is populated with bland thin noodles.  "Why don't you keep the vegetables and the chicken in the soup?" I once asked.  "Because my mother taught me how to make soup that way," was the answer.

With the availability of fresh chicken broth in local grocery stores, these bland machinations have made less sense over the years.

When I'm at the stove, I leave the vegetables in the soup, add a bit more onion and get daring with garlic, and cut up the chicken in the soup.  Tastes better and it's great when you have a cold; I've never received a complaint.

Now, we've all heard the change metaphor about the frog in the pot.  As you gradually turn up the heat on the pot, the frog gets so used to the heat that it cooks rather than jumps.  Yuck.

I relate more to chicken soup as a change metaphor, for several reasons:

• Without heat (change), you get a cold, inedible and dangerous pot of potentially salmonella-tainted raw chicken and vegetable slop;
• If you do heat up and cook the pot of chicken soup but you don't skim off the crap that initially and subsequently floats to the top, it's still edible but you can't tell from the looks of it, so you probably won't eat it, wasting the effort and negating its impact;
• Chicken soup can be processed antiseptically, or with love; you can tell the difference in the quality and the taste;
• Chicken soup is the cultural manna of my tribe; 
• Cooking a live frog is disgusting and will invariably piss PETA off.

I recently worked with a client, the President of a growing company going through tremendous change.  He hired me to develop and implement the change management plan, which involved among other activities, organizing an event to interview a large group of candidates for potential new jobs.

Everything went well and as planned, actually better than I expected.  As I multi-tasked between interviewing, candidate coordination and paper-shuffling, I went out to the lobby to fetch the next scheduled candidate.  I discovered the President sitting with the group of remaining candidates, shooting the breeze with the group as if they were gathered after work to watch the game.  They were all laughing and having a good time.  That wasn't in the project plan.

"Sorry to interrupt," I interjected, pleased but not surprised, knowing the President.  "I need Jack for his interview."  Jack rose and shook the President's hand.  "Nice to spend time with you," Jack said to the President.  "Good luck, Jack!" the President responded.  Jack walked down the hall to the interview room with me, still smiling.  "What a great guy," he said.  "I wasn't expecting him to sit down and talk to us."

Or help cook and serve the chicken soup, clearly made with (organizational) love.

Taking a Stand Against Bullying is Good Business

At the end of the last school year, with a substitute teacher at the helm of the class, my son's best friend punched him in the stomach.  Noah, with the intent of being helpful, pointed out a misspelling on the project his friend had slaved over and was about to submit.  Noah's friend, whose forte is not spelling, lashed out at Noah in frustration.  The punch surprised and hurt both of them.  They were both sent to the principal's office, and Noah's friend spent the whole school day there.

I saw the friend's mother that night at a school event that Noah's friend could not attend as punishment for the punch.  The look on her face was difficult for both of us.  "It's okay," I said.  "It sounds like the school took care of it."  Noah's school, like many progressive schools, has instituted anti-harassment and anti-bullying policies, and more importantly, follow through in their enforcement.

She brightened.  "Yes.  I think they went a bit overboard - I mean, it was just rough-housing.  But they can't act that way at school."

"No," I responded kindly but clearly.   "We don't hit in our house.  And it was a violation of school rules."

"Yes," she said, and we parted the awkward company.

Noah also thought his friend's punishment was a bit extreme.  "I'm not upset anymore,"  Noah reported.  "Why did he have to stay in the principal's office all day?"

I thought for a moment, and spoke out of my own experience.  "Because, honey:  if he doesn't learn to control himself and act respectfully now in school, he'll be fired from his job when he's an adult for that type of behavior.  It's for his own good."  Noah's eyes widened, and he nodded.  He's 9 years old, and he gets it.  Mom has fired adults for hitting and bullying each other.

Taking a stand against bullying, regardless of age or organization, is taking a stand for inclusiveness, which in turn, is good business.

How is it good business?  Banishing bullying from your organization will help minimize the chance that your customers will be treated badly by your employees.  Simple as that.  The internal organizational behavioral norms and values absolutely dictate how your employees interact with your customers.

Without that integrity between internal and external behaviors and values, your customers -- and your business -- are at risk.  It is a paradigm bereft of all authenticity.  And your customers crave authentic interactions.

Taking a stand against bullying also minimizes the needs for third-party involvement, e.g. proposed and current anti-bullying legislation and regulations.  If you're keeping the house of your organization clean, what impact will such mandates really have on your organization?  This stand also minimizes the risk of violating other current harassment and other laws and regulations protecting employees.

An anti-bullying stance is also an educational stand.  Not only only is risk minimized, but the potential for enlightenment and re-direction is possible even for adult learners:  a manifestation for my continual hope for resurrection on the human level.  If not:  then organization bullies need to be made available to industry, as they say.

Noah and his friend remain pals.

Why There's No Crying in Baseball

A League of Their Own is one of the movies I love to watch over and over again.  Literally, I've seen it more than 20 times. 

Now, I'm not necessarily gender-centric in my movie re-run hobby:  another favorite that I never tire of watching is The Hunt for Red October, and there is nary a woman to be found, much less relate to, as a female viewer.  The passion of the strategic intrigue is genderless, at least for me.

If there were a 12-step program for such an addiction, my husband Joel, instead of rolling his eyes and sighing every time I'm glued to one of my repeat favorites, would arrange an intervention and attend the Movie-Anon meetings for enablers.

One of the best scenes in A League of Their Own, I think most of us would agree,  is between the Tom Hanks character Jimmy, the team manager, and Bitty Schram character, Evelyn, when she makes an error that ends a key inning in the game, a.k.a. the "There's No Crying in Baseball" scene.

As I mentioned earlier, I've watched this scene literally dozens of times, and my visceral reaction rarely wavered:  I simultaneously ached for Evelyn and was ashamed of her.  On the surface, I related more to the Rosie O'Donnell character, Doris:  I'm a born and bred 3rd-generation New Yorker.

The shame is as simple as this:  don't let the assholes see you cry.  It just reinforces their gender stereotypes in the workplace and ruins it for the rest of us.

However, when I watch this scene from an organizational / leadership effectiveness standpoint, the perspective is startlingly different.

Jimmy is jonesing for his end-of-season managerial bonus for winning the World's Series, and Evelyn's error does not support his goal.  In order to ensure that she does not make the error again and jeopardize his bonus potential further, he gets in her face and kicks her ass.  Publicly.  "Use your head, " he barks.  "You know -- that lump 3 feet above your ass?" 

The rest of the team is visibly stunned, a mixture of anger, disgust and helplessness.  Doris asks Jimmy to lay off, and he tells her to zip it.  And she does. Why?  Chain-of-command.  While he's an asshole, he's still her manager. So much for the New York attitude advantage.

As Evelyn cries, he's incredulous. "There's no crying in baseball!," he exclaims repeatedly in amazement.  He tells her that he's suffer much worse abuse from his manager, and he didn't cry.  As if he were the incarnation of the Dalai Lama for that alleged accomplishment  She cries harder.  The umpire approaches.  "Sir, she's crying!"  Jimmy exclaims in frustration, appealing to another man.  "Perhaps you should address her as you address your mother," the ump primly advises.  I wince.  He's like a sanctimonious substitute for baseball field HR. 

Hey Ump, I know it's supposed to be 1944 in the movie:  but they taught us in diversity training that using the treatment of mothers and other female relatives as examples of how men should treat women respectfully in the workplace does not consistently wash, e.g. what happens if domestic violence exists in your family?  You think Jimmy kisses his mother with that mouth?

Only when Jimmy calls the umpire a penis in a hat does the ump exercise his discretionary power and throw Jimmy out of the game.  But how does that help the women and men on the team (organization), and the game, move forward?

Everyone here is marginalized.  From Jimmy grasping at the last straws of a wasted career to the women players busting their butts only to lose their jobs when the men return from war to the HR ump, who has no real and lasting impact beyond the current game.

I know the answer isn't for women to emulate these abusive, outdated and stereotypical power behaviors.  Women with Men's Heads, my friend Nan coined years ago.  Watching that in action is even worse than when men do it.  Again, it ruins it for the rest of us and undermines the credibility of women leaders in the workplace.  No one wins, everyone is still marginalized. 

I love the answer Chris Flett proposes in his book, What Men Don't Tell Women About Business: Opening Up the Heavily Guarded Alpha Male Playbook.

Contrary to what the title implies, Flett first lays out the rules of the current power structure; and then lays out a practical plan-forward:  that for organizations to move forward and evolve, they require managerial skills that tend to be more native to women (but also available to men).  In order to do so, we must first understand and learn how to facilitate the power structure where it is (There's No Crying in Baseball) to where it can be (There Are No Assholes in Baseball.)

There's even hope at the end of A League of Their Own.  After making another error in the World Series, Evelyn comes off the field and Jimmy meets her again. "Now Evelyn, I'd like you to work on that for next season," he says, clearly controlling himself.  "I know, I will" she says gently, and walks off the field.  He fribrillates and smiles, nearly choking on his chewing tobacco.

Progress, Not Perfection, as they say in the 12-step rooms.

Are You Teflon, or Gold?

Earlier in my HR career, a new senior manager was referred and recruited by one of our newer senior executives.

The manager, whom I'll call Teflon (the name is changed to protect the guilty), immediately made a big splash with his aggressive tactics.  He was an equal-opportunity asshole, beating the crap out of his vendors, his new colleagues and his new team of employees. He got the best price (in the short term) from his vendors, and he leveraged his senior executive mentor to finger-point cross-functionally and consistently across the organization to further pad his bonus potential by driving down any cross-functional costs that might impact his area.  Of course, this drove up costs in other areas of the organization.

He was a recruiter's nightmare.  I can recall at least 3 candidates who declined to work for the organization because of Teflon's prisoner-of-war interview tactics with them.   "That guy is a lunatic,"  one candidate memorably related.  "I like your organization, but I can't work for him."   Teflon then complained how we weren't filling his jobs quickly enough.  I know you're shocked.  

Whenever Teflon was challenged, he went aggressively postal and blamed his accuser(s) back, loudly and profanely.  Nothing was ever his fault, he was always right.  Teflon's often irrational belief that he was always right was so ingrained in his reality that he was deeply and genuinely hurt by the attacks of his colleagues in response to his attacks.  I once spent an hour in a conference room with him, reluctantly and incredulously offering my maternal HR shoulder as he cried bitterly at the unfairness of it all, drowning his sorrows in his own Kool-Aid.

Teflon's initial coup de grace, however, was how he nailed one of his subordinates for taking bribes in the form of free goodies from vendors. Teflon alerted Internal Control, and sure enough, Teflon was right.  Teflon's subordinate was promptly fired, mortified at being caught.  But apparently not mortified enough to not take bribes in the first place.

How did Teflon know?  As it was discovered later, he had in all likelihood accepted bribes himself periodically during the course of his career and recognized the behavior.  At least, this was the likely conjecture, as Teflon was eventually terminated for cooking his numbers to drive up his bonus.

Now this cautionary tale is on the extreme end of the scale.  However, it forever soured me on employees / managers / executives / colleagues who finger-point, whine and make excuses instead of manning-up / womanning-up, taking responsibility and proactively offering collaborative solutions.  And those in organizational control who condone or even worse, encourage such behavior.

Seriously:  my 9 year-old is more solution-oriented and takes more responsibility (and is extremely hard on himself, interesting how genetics play out) than some of the adults I've witnessed in the workplace.

It's particularly disturbing to witness managers engage in this teflon behavior.  "My (subordinate) screwed up the order," instead of "It's my responsibility, and this is how I'm going to work with my team to fix it."

And when it happens on an organizational scale, you start to feel like Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight:  is this really happening?  Who's the crazy one here? 

Which is one of the reasons I love Get Rid of the Performance Review! by Culbert and Rout.  No more finger-pointing power plays or whining self-victimization:  the performance of both the manager and their team is inextricably dependent and success or failure is a joint responsibility.  Which is organizational and bottom-line gold.

So what will you mine this week to drive mutual / bottom-line success:  teflon, or gold?

Every Call is a Sales Call

I reached out to a few good colleagues recently networking for specialty candidates here in SmAlbany.  I called after 6 PM expecting to leave a voicemail and instead reached a live person whom I didn't recognize.

"Hi, is Gladys there?" I asked. (The name is changed due to the SmAlbany factor and to minimize reader distraction.)

"Sure, hang on a second," the deep and friendly voice said.  I listened to some generic on-hold music for about 30 seconds.  The voice returned, no longer friendly.  "Who are you and what do you want?"

Hmmm.  A bit abrupt, which surprised me for a minute.  "I'm Deb Best and I'm following up with Gladys networking for (specialty) candidates," I replied.

"Sorry," said the Deep Voice, not sorry at all.  "I thought you were a sales call.  We're in the middle of a sales meeting and she doesn't have time to talk to you. (Click.)"  He hung up on me.  Charming.  And ironic.

Later that week, coincidentally (and I don't believe in coincidences), I learned that Deep Voice was the CEO of Gladys' company by observing him asserting himself rather stridently in a meeting and watching him subsequently facilitated by the meeting moderator to let other meeting participants contribute equally.  

Deep Voice's company, by the way, relies heavily on its reputation, more than the average company, as part of its business model.

Which is why I continue to maintain to the point of proselytizing that every call is a sales call.

Internally and externally, you can't let current and potential customers see you sweat, literally and figuratively.  Because the downstream reputation impacts on sales are undeniable.

Seemingly unbeknown to Deep Voice, I am a potential customer connected to other potential and current customers.  In a market like SmAlbany, and in an economy that increasingly connects like SmAlbany outside of SmAlbany, why any customer-facing employee at any level would indulge themselves in anything less than Customer Delight to all company contacts internally and externally is beyond my understanding.

Interestingly, I don't need to understand.  I've been heavily trained and inculcated on intent vs. impact:  the intent doesn't matter, the impact means and drives everything. 

Customer Delight is the responsibility of every employee in the organization at every level.  It's vertical integration at its finest:  it's time to break down the organizational silos and desegregate our organizational roles and constructs and come to the joint conclusion that we're all sales and customer service associates regardless of our respective organizational levels and functions, particularly if we are to sustain and grow our respective organizations within our competitive markets.

A small but poignant example from earlier in my career:  I was conducting a phone-screen with a Chemical Engineer candidate, and as was my practice, I described our chemical manufacturing process from end to end.  I then asked the candidate a few questions about his experience with our particular manufacturing process; finally, I asked him if he had any questions.  "No questions," he said, "Just a comment.  I've never seen an HR person talk about the business like you just did.  I expected you to just tell me about the company benefits.  I'm impressed with your organization and your team, whether you decide to hire me or not."

Exactly.

How authentic are you, no matter what your functional role in your organization, in meeting / exceeding your customers' needs during and after customer-facing contacts?  Internally and externally? 

Every call is a sales call.

Are You My Mother? No. Especially Not at Work.

Everywhere I've worked, the employee lunchroom always has some version of this sign posted:

Your Mother Doesn't Work Here:  Clean Up Your Own Mess.

A variation of the theme of "Don't Mess Your Nest."

Both concepts are related and should be taken to heart, mind and spirit.  It comes down to the hard work of self-awareness and its resultant emotional intelligence / maturity.  The implications of the unexamined life are not only sad; they are, more importantly, life- and career-changing, and more often than not, for the worst.

Cleaning up -- better yet, preventing -- your own mess within the context of the workplace is critical, particularly in an economy where it's a buyer's market for employers (customers).  If for no other reason, check your therapeutic baggage at the door of your workplace.  Think about examining your (inner) life to the extent that it saves you from jeopardizing your livelihood.  Wherever else that journey of self-examination takes you is up to you.

Taking responsibility for recognizing and keeping your therapeutic baggage in check at work is a key step towards ensuring your own vocational success.

As an HR practitioner, I see the lack of responsibility on the part of the employee (employees mean managers here too) play out again and again as the employee hits their bottom in a performance, disciplinary or termination discussion.  I've seen it happen at every level, from executives to warehouse clerks.  Their psychological baggage is so obvious to me that it's not only in the room, but all of their bags are open and the contents are strewn everywhere and hurtled at everyone.

For that employee, as a brief example, their manager is their abusive dad, I'm their detached mom / aunt and their co-workers are their trench-buddy siblings.

And when compounded by substance abuse and unresolved trauma:  I estimate at least half (probably more) of the employee relations issues that I have adjudicated in my career should have been handled through professional mental health treatment rather than the workplace disciplinary process.

If those same employees had taken the responsibility to drag their therapeutic baggage to a therapist rather than to work, we could have taken that time and energy wasted in resolving those employee relations issues and applied it to more productive endeavors such as new product, process and customer development, as well as resultant profit-sharing.

The time to raise your hand for help is not at your termination discussion.  If your employer offers help in the form of employee assistance programs (EAP) and/or mental health benefits, ask for and accept the help before you begin sliding down the slippery slope of the disciplinary / termination process.

One employee who will always have a place in my heart asked for the help before he jeopardized his employment, while he was experiencing withdrawal symptoms. His courage inspired us all.  We were all committed to his treatment, and he not only became a stellar employee, he was also subsequently promoted.

That, in my book, is how you engender mutual loyalty and respect in the workplace.

Now I'm not a therapist, nor do I aspire to that vocation,  and I don't weave anything remotely therapeutic into my HR practice:  I'm clear about both my boundaries and my limitations, personally, professionally and legally.  However, I will reflect back when an employee has dug themselves into such a hole of hitting bottom at work that perhaps they should consider working it out with a therapist, mentor, spiritual counselor -- whatever will get them through the night of their unexamined internal wound(s).

The workplace is not parental, or familial:   it is a place of business, and the interaction of the employer with their employees is a business transaction.  Plain and simple.  Services are sold by one party (the employee) and purchased by the other party (the employer).  The extent to which that business transaction is conducted creatively, collaboratively and functionally separates tolerable workplaces from great workplaces.  And tolerable employees from great employees / contributors / partners.

Leave your baggage at your workplace door:  solutions sell.

Everyone is a Customer: Make it Right

One of the most powerful professional tools that I've been granted in my career is the concept that everyone - employees, colleagues, customers (readers), managers, candidates, executives and shareholders:  is a customer.

Moreover, when coupled with the concept of Customer Delight, which is a much more powerful state than just plain old Customer Service, you stack the odds of creating a business culture and philosophy that meets and / or exceeds the needs of all both internally and externally.

When taken and implemented authentically together, those two concepts are a powerful force.  You engender loyalty, retention and repeat business, which in turn engenders reputation and new business / customers.

Walking the talk of "Everyone is a Customer" and "The Customer is Always Right"  is clearly hard work.

The best and most successful professionals and organizations are in a constant state of discovery to in effect mediate the agendas of all parties and constantly create new and innovative solutions that meet or exceed the needs of all the "customers" involved in any business transaction.

Some brief but notable examples:

• Wegman's
• Panera Bread (Great place to work, meet, eat - fresh food and free wireless - great service model!)
• Repeat Business Systems and their President, Dawn
• Lisa C., who handles HMO billing at CapitalCare Medical Group.

The deal-killer and consequently the career-killer is making the customers, internally and externally, wrong.  It's the misguided value system that dictates if you make the customer / colleague / employee / employer wrong, that it will help make you right, and consequently successful.   This behavior can manifest in the following brief but notable ways:

• Berating a colleague at a team meeting;
• Being an asshole to employees as a company leader;
• Southwest Airlines;
• The irate (and ubiquitously tiresome) Jet Blue employee and the equally rude passenger / customer who smacked him with her bag because she did not follow the rules (Whether we like it or not, rules are a necessity in our post-9/11 travel paradigm.  Vendors are also customers.)

If I make you wrong and myself right (or vice versa) in any given conflict or business transaction, someone always loses.

When we work together to create a solution that meets or exceeds the needs of both you and me, the possibilities of both joint and individual success are infinite.

Let's make it right for all of our customers:  present company included.

Go forth and prosper!

Networking is About What You Have to Give

I graduated from SUNY at Albany into perhaps the worst recession only second to the current one.  I was an English major (and a Women's Studies minor by accident -- I wanted to take Sign Language 101 but they canceled the course at the last minute, so I took Women's Studies 101 instead).

I wanted to write for a living and there were no jobs available, much less a job where I could follow my bliss.

During my senior semester, I had the good fortune to get accepted into the New York State Assembly Internship Program 3 days before the deadline.  My friend Portia, who was a Political Science major, encouraged me to apply because as she noted astutely, "The Legislature pays people to write."  She had me at hello.

I lucked out with my internship assignment as well.  The Program assigned me to the most liberal and curmudgeony member of the Assembly at the time (I feared briefly that my punishment for daring to be a Women's Studies minor would be an assignment working for a severely Conservative member), who also happened to be the Assemblyman from my home district. He owned one tie, a shiny yet stained polyester striped blue-and-gray number, that lived in his top desk drawer.  He wore it grudgingly to the Assembly Chamber like a noose to conform with the dress code.   He was brilliant, always ready for a good debate (or argument), anti-establishment, an avid birdwatcher and could conveniently give me a ride south on the weekends to see my family occasionally.  We would often pull over on the shoulder of the Thruway to get a closer look at a hawk with the binoculars he kept in his car. Whenever I see a hawk today, (He passed a number of years ago), I think fondly of him.

The internship required 20 hours of work a week in the Assemblyman's office; in return, I received 15 credits and a $100 a week stipend.   It was a great opportunity, even more than I knew at the time.

Shortly after I started the internship, the Assemblyman hired Nan to be his Staff Director.  Nan was a natural-born connector, a great writer, and a lot of fun:  to this day, she is one of the best managers I've ever had.  I loved working for her, and I loved the work we all did together.  Before I knew it, I was working 40 hours a week or more supporting the crazy hours of legislative session work, attending legislative receptions with Nan, meeting new people and having a great time.

As graduation neared and my internship was about to end, Nan asked me to work part-time through the end of the year (I also worked at Macy's part-time the rest of that year to approximate full-time work.)   Nan, before the era of email, cell phones and the web, worked her network and helped me get a full-time job for the upcoming Legislative Session in another Assemblyman's office. 

I was sad to leave Nan's employ, and touched at how she had championed me in a tough budget and economy with her network to get me a rare full-time Assembly Session job.  "How can I ever thank you?"  I asked her.

"By never saying 'no' when someone asks to network with you,"  she replied. "That will be thanks enough."

Nan created a calling with that request.  As one friend recently noted, I collect people.  I find people in general fascinating, and smart and talented people particularly engaging.  I love matching up the latter vocationally and in business.  Yes, I network and have a large network, both virtually and here in SmAlbany, because I'm a recruiter by trade and a saleswoman by DNA.

I have however experienced networking most authentically when I have something to give in the moment without expecting something in return.  Now, the laws of networking are not like the laws of physics:  for each "give,"  you do not necessarily receive an equal and opposite "get" from the person with whom you're networking.

Rather, it is approaching networking with a generosity of spirit:  you're planting seeds that someday may (or may not) bloom into opportunity, you just can't predict the timing or the likelihood of that germination.  When I offer my subject-matter expertise (SME) without solicitation and give away some of the crunchy nuggets that other potential business partners need when the moment presents itself, that's when I receive what I need, in the form of new clients, new jobs, new colleagues, new friends. And not necessarily from the person who receives my crunchy SME nuggets.

Interestingly enough, these SME nuggets planted in generosity of spirit also grow reputation:  another critical networking building block.

During this last ride to the Recession Rodeo, when I was in search of both a new job and new clients as part of discovering the next enriching chapter of my vocational journey, I revved up my usual power networking schedule and presentation.   As I coached my son Noah several weeks ago, my daddy always told me that if you make 30 calls and you got one "yes," you were doing great.

Daddy also set the bar high for prospecting:  at least 10 calls a day, at least 1 face-to-face meeting a day.  It's hard yet always satisfying work.

Sure, there are the occasional days when I prepare for a meeting feeling like a needy supplicant, wanting the person I'm scheduled to meet to be my Mommy and fix it all for me.  Feh.  I don't even want to meet with me on days like that. If I can't get going for myself, what useful purpose will I have for the decision-maker who made the time to meet with me?  I take a page from the 12-Step rooms:  I fake it 'til I make it.  That is:  I rely on what I know intellectually about what I have to give that nice decision-maker until my feelings catch up with the facts.  And on those very rare days when I can't get it together, I know I need a break and take the necessary rest.

I also know I'm in the networking zone when about 50% of the meetings end up being about the decision-maker's agenda, and not mine.

However, I'm happy to say, my networking has evolved along with my subject-matter expertise.  At the end of each phone call, each meeting, as part of offering my thanks, I also genuinely offer to be an ongoing resource to the person kind enough to have taken time to speak to me.  It happened spontaneously early on in the latest discovery process, and the reaction was worth everything.

After a jovial meeting where my decision-maker contact made amusing fun of the HR profession in general, in parting I said:  "If you ever need anything from me, even as a reality-check, please do not hesitate to contact me:  no charge."  From the look on his face, I could see that he was genuinely touched at my offer.  "So Deb:  if I have a weird HR situation, I can call you?"

Absolutely.  I'm here for you.


Happy Hunting:  Have a great week!

Don't Mess Your Nest: The Secret to Employee Handbook Compliance (Business, Leadership and Career Success Too)

The ongoing postmortem on the abrupt resignation and departure of Hewlett-Packard's former CEO Mark V. Hurd due to violations of H.P.’s standards of business conduct and an allegedly unfounded sexual harassment claim continues to fascinate me as an HR and Change Management practitioner.

However, as a kid born and bred in New York City and the daughter of a Marine, a simple but visceral reaction keeps rearing its authentic head:

Don't Mess Your Nest.

My friend Carol, who had a successful career as a state government executive, helped me with this more polite version of what I learned early in life.  It was a classic NYS Downstate-kid/ Upstate-kid exchange.  "Carol, do you know a cleaner version of "Don't S*** Where You Eat?"  I asked recently.  "Yes," Carol answered immediately.  "Don't Mess Your Nest."

I liked it.  It reminded me of an eagle's nest, and for me personally, eagles are great metaphors on several levels, not withstanding a symbol of leadership and business success.  Much more nuanced than my Lower-East-Side version.

"Why do you want to know?"  Carol asked.  "Personal  theory I've developed over the years,"  I replied.  "Rather than writing a magnum opus of an HR Handbook and policies for an organization, I believe that one phrase covers it all.  And if all employees at all levels subscribed to 'Don't Mess Your Nest,' we wouldn't have to worry about an employee handbook,  and consequently work life would be a lot easier for all of us. Also, my 9 year-old son is an experienced Googler, and I have to maintain some decorum."  Carol chuckled.

I know what you may be thinking: I earn my livelihood writing employee handbooks as well as intervening on and subsequently remediating all sorts of dysfunctional workplace behavior at all organizational levels. Some potentially (but never on my watch to date, thankfully) newsworthy, some annoying and frustrating, and some just downright sad.   I approach this part of my role as a mediator, and that's why it hasn't worn me down, so what am I complaining about?  Because it takes time and energy away from more constructive and strategic efforts to build business and organizational success at all levels.

To the point I made in an earlier post:  in the dual role of HR executive and internal Executive recruiter, I would have to clean up my own mess (and credibility), HR-wise, if I inserted a candidate with the issues below into the hiring process and they were subsequently hired. It certainly motivates the drive on the front-end to place and promote quality candidates and leadership bench.

It also helps when the organization's governance structure shares the same success values.

In the latest New York Times article on Hurd's departure,  Charles House, a former longtime H.P. engineer who now runs a research program at Stanford University, in addition to his pleasure at Hurd's departure, makes this poignant observation about H.P.'s last 3 CEOs:  "What H.P. needs in its next leader is “someone with Carly’s (Fiorina) strategic sense, Mark’s (Hurd) operational skills, and Lew’s (Platt) emotional intelligence.”

Amen, brother:  a snapshot job spec for leadership success.

Sadly, a snapshot that Hurd did not fit.  He is further described in the NYT article as having the strategic sense of a gnat, and knew only how to cut costs. He was a cost-cutter who indulged himself.   His combined compensation for just his last two years was more than $72 million — a number that absolutely outraged employees since their jobs were the ones being cut. 

Hurd's cost-cutting as reported in the NYT was for the short-term hits as well:  he cut back significantly on R&D (the article notes that H.P. consequently had no product response to the iPad); he dictated that H.P. executives had to resign from all civic boards, and he cut off many of H.P.’s philanthropic activities.

In recent internal surveys, the NYT article reports, nearly two-thirds of H.P. employees said they would leave if they got an offer from another company — a staggering number. <Clearly> Hurd didn’t have the support of his people. He was also observed to be incredibly rude and demeaning, and relied on the fear factor. Although he was good at holding executives’ feet to the fire, he seemed to be the only one benefiting from H.P.’s success. He alienated himself from the people who might have protected him <Which would explain the decidedly odd publicity originating from H.P. about an allegedly resolved sexual harassment complaint.> One observer's summation:  Hurd lacked the moral character to be CEO.

Yet he was allowed to carry on for 5 years, as the ongoing postmortem seems to suggest, because of his significant but short-term positive hits to H.P.'s bottom line.  And this has all played out publicly and widely, to former, current and future customers, shareholders and employees, bruising both the reputations of Hurd and H.P.  Ouch.

Hurd sounds like a fictional character constructed to hammer home the authentic concepts illustrated by House's Stanford colleague Bob Sutton in his seminal leadership / organizational effectiveness book, The No-Asshole Rule (Sorry Noah, that's the title of the book).  But sadly, for Hurd, H.P. and its former and current employees, truth is indeed stranger than fiction.

The Hurd saga is also a cautionary tale about an organization off-course.  Joe Nocera, who wrote this latest NYT article, summed it up elegantly:  "H.P. says its board should be applauded for not letting Mr. Hurd off the hook. But this is just after-the-fact spin. In fact, the directors should be called out for acting like the cowards they are. Mr. Hurd’s supposed peccadilloes were a smoke screen for the real reason they got rid of an executive they didn’t trust and employees didn’t like." 

Worried about how to best follow organizational policies, guidelines and handbooks?  How to guide your employees to do the same?

And moreover, build a foundation that will ensure career and business success?

Don't Mess Your Nest.   

Because it's especially damaging and discouraging when eagles do it.


As always:  a successful week to all!