Managing Death at Work

I'm in a bit of a surreal state right now: Brian, the beloved husband of my dear friend Lisa, passed away in his sleep Saturday morning from an unexpected and shocking heart attack at the too-young age of 44, a day after Lisa and Brian's 15th wedding anniversary. My son Noah is buds with their sons Charlie and Timmy. I'm not quite grasping that he's gone. I spent yesterday and today calling Lisa's extended circles of friends and colleagues to share this very sad news, the minimum mitzvah I can offer at the moment, aside from urging you to love the ones you're with, every day, like Brian and Lisa did.

Brian totally rocked. In additional to being a wonderful husband and father (we all attend the same church, which is how we met), he was a Senior / LEED Mechanical Engineer with a great professional reputation, reinforced by his calm, direct and almost Buddha-like presence. Which served him and our church well as a member of our Trust Committee. He also reminded me of my Grandaddy Nat of beloved memory: Brian could do all of his own electrical, plumbing and carpentry work. He knew how to run natural gas lines, which allowed him to completely renovate their kitchen and bathroom. Brian also cooked up biofuel to use in the family diesel cars. He had been spending the summer putting new siding on the family house. He has just taken Charlie and Tim on our church camp-out in Cooperstown, and then journeyed with them to use their season tickets at Six Flags in New Jersey. Lisa had given him a brand new toilet last Christmas, in anticipation of his next project to renovate the second-floor attic space. Our collective handyfolk are discussing how they will complete Brian's projects for him.

One of the few beacons during this tragic weekend was the response from Brian's manager to the news of Brian's unexpected death. The manager, extremely emotional himself, told Lisa on Saturday that Brian was highly respected at their company, and that their customers specifically asked to work with Brian. A heartfelt, authentic and welcome message for Lisa in the midst of her grief, demonstrating how as Brian's manager, that he truly saw him and his gifts, and lifted them up. Well done.

Embrace the Fear and Take The Risk Anyway in Business and at Work

For a salesman who worked on 100% commission most of his career, my dad injected more of his own fear rather than encouragement of taking risk in the face of my own budding vocational interests. Given generational and gender factors (I was a girl, wife and mother-material, not career-material in his assessment), years later, I understand the limits of my father's assessment context. On top of those factors, Dad had always been an employee, albeit one paid on 100% commission. And the icing on the fear was that fact that his own dad had died when he was only 17 years old.

When I was twelve years old, I signed up with my mother's permission to sell household products from some long-forgotten mail-order company, while Dad was away on a business trip. I showed early indications of Dad's sales DNA and actually made 4 sales on our block in my first few days. When Dad came home from the business trip later that week, I proudly showed him my sales slips. He reviewed them like an IRS auditor, frowning. "You calculated the sales tax wrong," he said, pointing to the columns on one sales slip. "You're too young to do this. You need to return this money and send the sales kit back." I was surprised. "Why?" I replied. "I can just go back to each customer and fix the sales slip." Dad went into his Marine-sergeant mode. "No! This is not a discussion. I will not have you embarrassing me with your mistakes." I went back to my new customers, apologized for bothering them, and sent the kit back as I was told.

When I was 15 years old, I took a job for the summer as a counselor at a reputable sleep-away camp 15 miles from our house. In order to get the campers to bed at a reasonable hour, the camp did not observe daylight-savings time. I made the mistake of calling home at 10 PM one night from the camp director's office, as for us at camp it was only 9 PM. Dad was upset and concerned. "Why are you still up, working so late?" He demanded. I explained the artifice of not observing daylight-savings time. Dad did not buy it. "I'm coming to pick you up and take you home now," Dad decreed over the phone. I did not take his supervision this time. "No Dad, I'm staying here. I like it and they're not over-working me. Please don't embarrass me." My father paused, and I looked over at the camp director. "Could you please explain to my dad how we handle daylight-savings time?" The camp director smiled. "Of course," he said. He took the phone and spoke to my father for a few minutes (they had met when my parents dropped me off at camp earlier in the week), repeating the daylight-savings time explanation. The camp director handed the phone back to me. "You can stay," my father decreed, grudgingly.

When I graduated from the University at Albany, I did not return to the New York City / metropolitan area to look for a job. Instead, I took a part-time job with my senior-semester internship boss Bob, my home Assemblyman, and a part-time job at Macy's. "I don't understand why you just don't come home and get a real job in the city," my father groused on the phone. "Because I want a job as a writer, and it's cheaper to live in Albany than it is to live in New York City," I replied. "Don't worry Dad, I'll be fine." And I was. It took about 10 years, but Dad finally realized that we have real jobs up here in Albany, too.

In both my career and in my business, the risks I continue to take while embracing (and sometimes wrestling with) the natural / nurtured fear is the lotus I harvest from the mud of fear time after time -- it is a drive that I cannot deny. It continues to get better as time goes on and the more I practice and see the undeniable proof of the great results I produce. As my good friend and colleague Lisa Jordan maintains, when we come from a place of fear, the expression of our gifts and talents are limited, and no one benefits. But when we come from a place where fear takes a back seat to the wonderful creative potential of risk, even in the face of potential failure or embarrassment: that's where the potential of success is limitless.

This week, and going forward: I celebrate our collective courage (e.g.: taking action in the face of fear) and joy in the risks we take in both business and at work, in support of our mutual success.

Teach and Be Prepared to Learn at Work and in Business

I returned to my roots during my Fourth of July vacation this year. For the first time since I was a teenager, I was a camp counselor at an overnight camp for kids going into their fourth grade to senior high-school years; and I participated in a theater group. My husband Joel was one of my co-Counselors, teaching art to the high school division; our son Noah attended as a camper in the younger division; and I was Theater Counselor-in-Training for the high school division.

We all had a great time, and it was my best camp experience ever. Partial credit goes to the quality of the camp, Ferry Beach UU Camp; the high school division Coordinators, Mindy and Donald; our lead Theater Counselor, Eric; and the talented Theater Track campers. While I coached, encouraged and co-taught, my learnings simultaneously were rich and profound. For most of our week together, Eric had me participate as a student, similar to a graduate student. So I often partnered with our students in acting exercises, learning along with the students. Here are some of my lessons learned:

• With the confidence of an adult life lived (career, family, business, etc.) unlike my uncertain teenage self, I could now perform without bursting into a self-conscious and fearful fit of giggles every time I was asked to act in a role. I was able to consistently and completely focus acting any given role, because I cared more about the learning moment than what the other kids thought of me, or not.
• I marveled at the abundance of acting / musical talent and confidence displayed by our students, which inspired me to take more risks and stretch myself out of my comfort zone, including but not limited to re-engaging my love of singing while accompanying myself on guitar. I'm proud to report that my guitar calluses have re-emerged after a long hiatus.
• Love is the answer. The values and structure of our camp consistently lifted up our students and their creativity, creating a safe foundation which allowed them to soar. I went on a couple of rides with them, so to speak.
• It was okay to experiment, fail and try again. In fact, it was mandatory. And the talents of our students were burnished and shone even more.
• Practice, practice, practice. It builds confidence, not necessarily perfection. And that confidence is where creativity and often leadership flourishes and expands.
• We felt the fear and did it anyway. We wrote monologues and performed them for each other, with varying degrees of risk and discomfort. How important it was to express and witness each other's internal music.
• Whether we pursue theater as a career or not, everything we learned together last week was applicable. My gift to the students was to create a crosswalk between our theatrical lessons and their potential application in business, e.g. presenting to business groups, interviews, sales pitches etc. No lessons wasted here, every learning is applicable for future success.
• In order to learn and renew vocationally and creatively, it's important to get out of your routine and environment.
• The most important lesson: every opportunity to teach is also an opportunity to learn something new from your talented students / team. A wonderful symbiotic gift.

What did / will you teach and learn on your summer vacation?

   

Declare Your Independence in Business and at Work

I must admit, I'm a bit sentimental about the Fourth of July holiday, e.g. patriotic. It annoys my husband Joel ever so slightly, sometimes reminding him of more rigid, intolerant and oppressive flag-waver types, and for that reason questions the authenticity of wearing red, white and blue as an expression of freedom given the occasional abuse of power.

However, I'm not that type of flag-waver. My patriotism - and pursuit of happiness and autonomy, in my career and in my business - is grounded more in gratitude. Gratitude for those generations who came before me, making my life so much better today than it clearly was for them. Grateful for my great-great-grandmother Katie Markowitz of blessed memory, married at 15 years old and a mother at 16 years old. Who, according to the 1900 census, emigrated to Manhattan from Moscow, Russia with her two oldest children in steerage for what was definitely not a luxury cruise for nearly 3 weeks in 1896, following her husband Davis of blessed memory who had emigrated before her almost 2 years earlier, arriving with little more than a few clothes and no job or business. My own private refuse of foreign shores. Who proceeded to have four more children, including my grandfather Joseph of blessed memory, also known as Markie, who died years before I was born at the age of 51. When Katie died, and of what, we don't know; however, I suspect she died young from a hard life of poverty and childbirth / child-rearing thereof.

Gratitude for my great-grandmother Rose of blessed memory, who's husband Abe, my great-grandfather of blessed memory, died in the 1918 influenza epidemic just a little less than 15 years after they both emigrated here from Austria as young teenagers, also with very little in the way of personal belongings and no jobs: but in search of a better quality of life and more personal freedom.

I found out only eight years ago that Rose, a master needle-worker, subsequently opened her own notions store on the Lower East Side after Abe's death, to support her two sons, Nat and Eddie. My granddaddy Nat of blessed memory was my son Noah's age, 11 years old, at the time of his father's death, and he quit school to get a job to help support the family. In the tradition of my tribe, Noah is named for Nat.

My ancestors of blessed memory came to the United States to find a better life for themselves, their children and their grandchildren, leaving everything and everyone they knew, taking the risk and arriving with nothing but their smarts and their stamina. In the process, they learned and worked hard at their trades; to build careers; to run their businesses; with the hope that their children and their grandchildren would find even more blessings. We did. Thank you for bringing our families here to live and thrive.

As one of their children, I have been blessed with great opportunities and a wonderful career that has forged the strengths of the person I am today. In honor of the 2012 Fourth of July holiday, I am proud to follow the path of my ancestors with the blessing of enough client work to step full-time into my consulting business, Deb Best Practices - in the arch of my combined family history, one of the mildest of risks to date, indeed.

For my colleagues, friends and family: I wish for you the authentic prosperity of your own independence and autonomy, born of those who came before us to bring us to this moment: to express the vocational music within you, whether you are in a career job or your own business, or both. As my friend Barry would say: "Nike! Just do it!"

 Happy Independence Day!

Teach Your Children Well in Business and at Work

I like to tell my son Noah, who turns eleven years old next month, that he attended business meetings with me long before he was born. A bit more jaded now that he's experienced the Family Health unit at the end of his 5th grade career (and on the brink of adolescence: sniggering like Beavis and Butthead over even mild / unintended innuendos), he just asked me recently to tell him the story again. "You had the hiccups constantly, that's when I knew you were awake," I recalled. "I would start giggling a bit in the middle of a meeting, because your hiccups were both powerful and distracting." Although Noah grimaced, I knew he loved the story.

Adolescence aside, Noah's formative years have definitely been different from those of his parents.

Just like Joel's and my formative years were different from our parents. My dad made the happy mistake of taking me to the office at the age of four one Saturday morning to give my pregnant mother a break. That visit - and the subsequent breakfast together at a diner, full of other working stiffs - sealed the deal. So that's where the money came from to buy the Good Humor ice cream, I concluded as I watched Dad pay the bill for our breakfast with dollar bills instead of the Good Humor dimes I usually handled. I wanted a job from that day forward. Fifteen years later, on a hot and aggravating journey north to start my freshman year at SUNY Albany with the initial goal of a double Pre-Med / English major, my father, ignorant of how he had contributed to my journey fifteen years earlier, clearly thought I was wasting my time and my student loan money with a line straight out of Mad Men, repeating the script my mother, his freshly-ex-wife, had followed. "Why aren't you staying home, getting a job, getting married and having kids?" Without missing a beat and a bit taken aback, I replied: "That would involve a date, which I haven't had yet. I'll keep you posted."

As I journey with Noah through his childhood, I marvel at how different his path is from mine and wonder how the mixed influence of witnessing both the career and entrepreneurial adventures of his parents will influence his own career and business decisions.

At the age of five, Noah wanted to be a chef and run his own business: Best Performance Bistro. He talked about it all the time to everyone - his grandparents, his kindergarten teacher, us. I made a sign for his dream business; it hangs to this day on the wall of my office:

Last year, Noah and his friend Frankie spent a Saturday afternoon on a video game company business plan, with Frankie as the CEO and Noah as his second-banana. Noah did not want to be Frankie's second-banana.

As Noah experienced school rules (particularly when a few of his buddies did not follow the rules), I reinforced the learning with an HR geek's eye to the future. "It so important to learn how to follow the rules in school. Because if children don't learn how to follow the rules in school, I usually end up firing them as adults," I hammered home, as Noah listened, wide-eyed.

Noah's career and business vision continues to evolve. He experiments with "Let's Play" videos, which in turn have strengthened his presentation skills to the point where his elementary school principal suggested that Noah consider a career in broadcasting. It's all good fodder for learning marketing on-the-job. Noah is also developing a video game and composing the accompanying soundtrack music, for separate potential sale on Steam. We love his energy, ingenuity, and of course, him. His current goal is:

• Go to a 2-year SUNY college and take computer science, business and culinary arts courses;
• Finish his degree at a 4-year SUNY college (or at the Culinary Institute of America, if he gets a scholarship);
• Work for someone else first before a) starting his own successful video game software company and b) then, once he makes his fortune, opening his own gourmet pastry shop.

Noah is working on a new business plan where he is the CEO of his own video game software company, and his pals Charlie and Tim are part of his leadership team. I'm tentatively slated as the Chief Administrative Officer, grateful to achieve one of my goals to be part of the leadership bench plan of a start-up company. Per his request, I've also shared the business plan for The Best Framing Company, which his father and I worked on together 7 years before Noah was born.

As his parents, Joel and I do our best to also give Noah the gift of authenticity: to see us as fellow creative humans as well as his parents and mentors, taking risks and experiencing, like Edison, the occasional creative failures almost always in stride. For to do otherwise would stifle the music that streams from within each of us that must be expressed / shared. I can't wait to see what Noah cooks up as he approaches adulthood. I'm honored to witness his journey, as we Bests continue to mentor each other.

Love is the Answer at Work

"Love is the answer, and you know that for sure; Love is a flower, you've got to let it grow."

- John Lennon

I was trained as a Diversity Facilitator at General Electric.  Back then, the focus was just on gender and race diversity and inclusion, which continue to be large opportunity areas at work and in the larger society to this day.

One of the most important concepts I learned during that training was the concept of transforming the reaction as marginalized individuals to ignorance, bigotry and discrimination from anger and retribution to compassion and education.  "When you come from a place of compassion,  instead of anger," our instructor Carol Brantley taught us.  "Then you can create an opening, a conversation:  where you can potentially engage the less-informed as students, teaching compassion because you're modeling it.  And in it that opening, you have the opportunity to teach inclusion, too."

After church today, I observed and participated in a panel discussion supporting The Trevor Project, the leading national organization providing crisis intervention and suicide prevention services to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and questioning youth.  Today's discussion focused on preventing and intervening on bullying in our schools:  the leading driver of crisis and suicide for our youth today. The wonderful panel members - advocates, students, teachers and members of my own FUSS congregation (FYI, we are a Welcoming Congregation, proud supporters of the recently enacted Marriage Equality Act in New York state), also echoed that earlier training of approaching the issue of bullying through compassion, education, and in the case at Mohanasen High School, Peer Mediation.  What a wonderful new tool:  healing bullying through peace:  the source of all human conflict are needs met and unmet.  As a mediator myself, I was heartened.

I was further encouraged by the impending July 1, 2012 enactment of the NYS Dignity for All Students Act (DASA) which states:

...that NO student shall be subjected to harassment or discrimination by employees or students on school property or at a school function based on their actual or perceived race, color, weight, national origin, ethnic group, religion, religious practice, disability, sexual orientation, gender, or sex.

Frankly, for as I have explained to my son Noah:  if students don't learn how to treat each other respectfully at home and at school during their childhood and teenage years (and in their adult relationships with friends, relatives and spouses):  they will be much less successful as adults at work.  I've witnessed it my entire career:  disrespectful, bullying, demeaning and/or dominating / controlling behavior does not win friends or influence people in the long term.  No matter how talented or smart you are:  if you cannot consistently and authentically demonstrate mutual respect and inclusion at work (to peers, subordinates, and even more puzzling, managers and customers), it will eventually bite you and your career squarely on the ass. Your timing and mileage may vary, but what comes around does indeed go around.  Your attempts to marginalize others, intended or unconscious, to give yourself status, attention and power will in fact and eventually marginalize you.

And if you must suffer those losses in order to learn this lesson:  be the student and embrace this lesson of failure as the gift it truly is. Ask for feedback and coaching.  Take a searching and fearless inventory of yourself.  Take responsibility. Forgive yourself and the adults who misinformed and neglected you, placing you on this erroneous path. Learn, especially compassion for yourself and those around you. Grow. Transform. Model and teach what you've learned:  encouraging the growth and standing on the side of:  love at work.

How We Inspire and Teach Each Other at Work

My 10 year-old son Noah woke up at 3 AM Saturday morning with only the second earache of his life and recurring bouts of nausea that really need no further detail.  What a blessing.  I fully attribute it to being hooked up to a breast pump machine like Elsie the cow for the first two months of his life during my maternity leave 11 years ago.  If two months of short-term aggravation have given Noah sterling immunity, it was a great gift all around.  Another blessing, in contrast to my childhood, were the emergency weekend hours at Noah's pediatrician's office.  He was dosed up with antibiotics by noon on Saturday.

As we caught up on our sleep yesterday and today, confined along with Noah to the house, I decided to tackle building my first WordPress website.  I had purchased the very cheap hosting and even cheaper themes at least a month ago, and the timing seemed opportune.  I previously built free Google websites for my husband Joel and my friend John, and this was my next personal challenge.  Some people hike higher and higher mountains; I geek-hike this way.  Viva la difference.  Given our earache quarantine, it was more stimulating than tackling our taxes:  next weekend's project.

As I wrestled the plugins, widgets, themes and other WordPress quirkiness, I thought of the chain of events that brought me to this WordPress weekend:

• My friend Deb recruited me to take her place as the Director of Publications at a lobbying firm, so she could start her own business.  Thanks to Deb, I learned how to use both an Apple computer and Adobe PageMaker.

• I proceeded to do freelance copy-writing work for Deb on my own time, introducing me to contract / consulting work.  I purchased my first fax machine 20 years ago, as Deb and I worked collaboratively via fax and floppy disk. That fax machine (which burns the images on paper) still works, and we just moth-balled it last month due to the purchase of our HP wireless all-in-one printer. 

• Thanks in part to my PageMaker knowledge, I got my first job at GE in Human Resources / Employee Communications, where one of my responsibilities was writing and developing the weekly plant newsletter  (Graphic layout, BTW, is not my strong suit.  Dammit Jim, I'm a writer, not a graphic designer). We had PROFS email back then, which was an IBM green-screen email client.   We were only permitted to email each other internally, and we were able to send TXT extension files as attachments.  The fax machine was still the main communications channel.  I loved email, and started sending shorter version of the plant newsletter via PROFS email.

•  My brother Rob got a job with Prodigy and kept handing me down his outdated computer equipment. He suggested that Joel and I join America Online (AOL).  We did.  Thanks to Rob, I was able to research and write the business plan for The Best Framing Company (Joel's custom picture-framing business) using AOL in 4 months without stepping foot once in the library.  That business plan got Joel the unsecured SBA loan to start the business.

• I suggested to Deb and Professional Women's Network, the group that Deb invited me to join, that we all get America Online accounts so that we could email each other rather than fax each other, as a time-saver.  Not well-received.  Too radical-geek.   However, they did all eventually get AOL accounts, and soon thereafter, work email took over.  I love how attached they all are to their smart phones today, remembering the AOL uproar all those years ago.

• On the weekends, I would design simple postcards in PageMaker to market The Best Framing Company. It helped grow Joel's business and reinforce his reputation as a great custom picture-framer.

• When I worked with my friend Ron, Palm Pilots were all the rage at work:  all the cool kids (e.g., Ron) had the color Palm Pilots.  For a number of years, before the advent of smart phones, my purse was weighted down by both my Palm Pilot and my cell phone.  No stinkin' planners for me.

• A few years ago, I started attending Social Media Breakfast Tech Valley.  As a LinkedIn geek, it caught my interest, particularly the panel on blogging.  I hadn't written anything for myself since I was a senior in college.  I put a pin in the blogging presentation for later use, maybe.

•  My friend and fellow writer Katie (we're both members of FUSS) kept talking about how she wanted to be paid to be a writer.  For 4 months, I joined Katie's husband and noodged her to set up a blog for free and start writing; I had just seen Julie & Julia and I was freshly inspired.  From my FUSS work with her, I knew that Katie was a talented writer, and frankly, I wanted to watch her swim in the blogging pool first before I gave it a try. She finally relented and started writing her WordPress blog, Capital District Fun.  Katie, by the way, is now a paid writer.  I watched Katie blog for 4 months, and then created my own blog, Deb Best Practices, when tweeting only 140 characters was no longer sufficient expression for me.  It's a Google Blogger blog, as my girlfriend Google is my BFF.

• My friend Keith is the Webmaster on our project, and because of the nature of the work we're currently doing, he needed to teach me how to use Interwoven to update our website in a pinch.  A frustrating and quirky program.  WordPress,  in comparison, is a dream.  However, thanks to my experience with Google Blogger and building Google websites, I'm able to stumble my way through Interwoven successfully.  Keith is building our new website in Joomla, and I'm looking forward to learning Joomla as well, as Keith tells me it's a lot like WordPress.

• My friend Linda, who I met when we were both PWN members, asked me to teach the opening course, Strategic Thinking and Leadership, at her organization's Leadership Institute.  This year will be my 6th year teaching the course, tweaking the presentation I developed in MS PowerPoint.  A few years ago, there was a student in the class;  a brilliant, young and up-and-coming lawyer:  my friend George.  The break-out exercise that I ask the students to do each year is the secret sauce that always sparks them to a new level in their professional development, even if it's just a small step.  In George's case, it was spontaneous combustion.   He manifested and later implemented his vision:  his growing firm, LaMarche Safranko Law.  He's still on fire, and it's great to see.  George has a great WordPress website.

Just a few of the wonderful family members, friends and colleagues who inspired my WordPress weekend; and really, so much more.

My Birthday at Work: No, Thank You.

Today is my birthday and it's my day off.  For me, that's the best combination.  Yes, I'm one of those people who don't like to celebrate their birthday at work.  A bit contrary to what my friend and fellow GE alum Allen was taught about HR folks at work before he retired over 25 years ago.  "Human Resources was in charge of Health and Happiness," he once told me, trying to keep a straight face before he chuckled.

Those who know me may be surprised:  what, me ducking an opportunity to be the center of attention? I don't share my birthday on Facebook.  My friends at church didn't know it was my birthday, either.    My 10 year-old son Noah spread the word efficiently (my own personal human social media channel), so a few of my friends did snag me with their good wishes before we all departed to enjoy the rest of Sunday; that was kind, and fine - thank you.

I wasn't always so blase' about my birthday.  Between my two sets of parents, my husband Joel and my friends, I was happy for it to be "Deb Day" (as my friend John dubbed it) the entire month of February, gifts, dinners, cakes, etc. When I was in college, I sent both of my parents thank-you cards, thanking them for not practicing birth control.

My neutrality about my birthday is not based in any fear of getting older; I come from a long-lived family of women who made it well into their 90's while neglecting their health, so I'm set there.  The biggest factor is certainly the birth of Noah almost 11 years ago.  The anniversary of giving birth to Noah is far more meaningful to me than the anniversary of my own birth.  That experience was life-changing to the core of my being, and as I said to Noah today:  he is the best present I have and ever will receive.  All other gifts, except for the gift of Noah's father in my life, pale in comparison.  Eleven years ago, when my birthday crossed the 7th month of Noah's pregnancy:  I threw myself a bowling birthday party and bowled a 220, beating all of my men friends and Joel.  Noah changed my perspective on my own birthday even before he was born.  My parents gave me Joy as my middle name, and it fits:  I'm very happy that I was born, especially to be Noah's mother.  Everything else is gravy for gratitude.

And while we're on the subject of gratitude:  aside from motherhood, as I reached a certain age, I am lucky enough and grateful to have enough things:   I want what I have.  That too, is a wonderful gift as well as a blessing.

Birthdays at work have always rung a bit askew and even hollow for me.  I appreciate the good wishes and intentions, but recognition for reaching another year of life at work seems out of sync with the raison d'etre of the workplace.  Especially on those birthdays later in my career when the tenser tasks of my job as a manager / leader came first.  No one cared on a bad day that it was my birthday.  The work still needs to get done, whether it's my birthday, or not.  That was a great lesson in acceptance, and in striving for an integrated life including, but not limited to, work.

Now, recognition for a job well-done and for being a valuable / valued member of a great team:  those are the gifts of engagement that mean the most to me at work.   

This week:  my wish for all of us is "Happy Workday, and thank you," at work.

HALT Manic Mondays at Work

80% of success is showing up.

                                                                                                         - Woody Allen

I've been an HR practitioner twice as long as my tenure as Noah's mother.  So yes, I'm often guilty of front-loading my parenting to ensure Noah's success in whatever career (Chef / Restauranteur or Video Game Mogul at the moment) that he chooses.

With Noah, the basic blocking-and-tackling of teaching him the commitment of showing up is fairly easy.  On school nights, especially Sunday nights, his bedtime is a hard-stop of 9:30 PM, no matter how well he makes his case to the contrary.  On Monday mornings, if he's not already awake, he must extricate himself from bed by 6:30 AM to be ready at the bus stop by 7:30 AM.  (And yes:  he's wide awake by 6 AM on weekend mornings on his own. Sigh.)  

On those occasionally difficult mornings when he resists and growls at us like a rabid squirrel and hides under blankets all over the house, Joel and I consistently move Noah along, instruct him to cease and desist the PITA behavior and reinforce his responsibility to stick to his schedule, whether it's getting himself ready for the bus stop, practicing his violin or completing his homework.  His future employer (or, if he goes into business for himself, his future employees) will thank us one day.

Noah's newest challenge linked to the milestone of turning 10 years of age is to start managing these tasks himself so Joel and I can eventually be relieved of our nagging duties.  (Well, you know I'm an eternal optimist.) 

It is my parenting experience that is gradually eroding my already minimal tolerance for adults less able than my 10 year-old son to manage themselves similarly in preparation for the work week / work day.  I'm not your attendance mother, and now, more than ever, I don't want to be your attendance hall monitor.

Calling in sick and/or being late consistently on Mondays is a worn-out workplace cliche'.  At minimum, you're in danger of violating your workplace attendance policy and eventually getting fired. Or suspected of having too much fun over the weekend to drag yourself responsibly into work.  Most importantly, it damages your reputation in that you're eventually labeled as unreliable and therefore expendable.   Which is not the type of workplace attention you seek. 

So do us all a favor:  keep your HALT (Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired) needs front and center on your radar the night before a work day.  Think of them as base Maslow's hierarchy of success needs that are well within your control to manage.

Some tips on consistently showing up physically to the workplace are obvious but often ignored:

• Get enough sleep so you can wake up on time (or at all);
• Cut off your alcohol consumption to ensure at least 10 alcohol-free hours before work, if not more (Sober and chipper does start a Monday off right);
• Strive to eat well and exercise;
• If you're angry and/or lonely, get support from your friends, family or a professional or two.  Not in your workplace.  Don't Mess Your Nest.

Now, let's talk about those of you who do drag yourselves to work in spite of a raging case of HALT.   Especially on Monday mornings, operating on 3 hours of sleep, an unresolved fight with your spouse / ex-spouse, a raging hangover and a queasy, empty stomach:  do us all and yourself another favor:  don't inflict it on us.  While you may be present physically, you are entirely absent mentally, emotionally and spiritually. And that is most certainly not a recipe for career success.  The best thing you can do for your reputation and out of respect for the rest of your workplace team when you cannot or will not manage your HALT is to keep a low profile and keep your mouth shut.  No one deserves the detritus of your mismanaged HALT, including you.

Sweet dreams for a successful week!

Leadership Start-Up Lessons from 5th Grade Entrepreneurs

My son Noah and his friend Frankie played at our house all afternoon on Saturday.  But it wasn't all play, as they disclosed at the end of the day.  For a good 3 hours, they hunkered over Noah's laptop and formulated the business plan for their new video game software company, to be named later.   Here's the first page of the plan, a mixture of website structure, branding (which is protected under the auspices of Deb Best Practices, in defense of our young moguls), governance structure and company values:

Frankie founded the Company-to-Be-Named-Later, so he felt that he should be the final word on all the decisions. "I started the company, why do I have to listen to Noah, or anyone else?" Frankie asked.  "I'm the boss, I make all of the decisions."  Frankie's father then coached him that collaborative leadership and decision-making was the best way to start and run a business from a values standpoint. "Or else you'll just cheese everyone off," Noah added.  Sometime during the second hour, Frankie fired Noah for not agreeing with Frankie's decisions.     Noah called Frankie on it, saying it wasn't fair.  Frankie listened to Noah's case, and hired him back.  Then they worked together on the Human Capital plan, below:

Although Noah was born 4 years after I left GE (where I started my HR career), this Human Capital grid looked eerily similar to a form that we used to prepare the Annual Human Resources review, rating the promotability and values of each employee.  Or perhaps we humans just like to sort things in 4 quadrants, and it's wired into our shared racial intelligence?

I particularly love the "Anger Issues" and "Stubborn" ratings:  ain't it the workplace truth?

Noah was rated GWT (Good With Tech), so he's been slotted into 3 jobs:  Tech Team, Video Game Development and Video Game Musical Theme Development.  "I'm getting paid half-pay for each job, because I have 2 jobs," Noah explained to me.  "Actually, I have 3 jobs, but I'm doing the music job for free."  I tried to correct him.  "But if you have 3 jobs, you should make more, not less," I explained.  Noah shook his head. "That would upset the rest of the team if I made more money than them.  I also don't want to cheese Frankie off by making more money than him, since he's the boss."  I chuckled.  At this juncture, the influence of UU Religious Education is stronger than Noah's exposure to his capitalist mother.  "Isn't rule number one at work 'Don't Cheese Off the Boss?" Noah queried.  "Not in this case," I answered.

Frankie and Noah made their presentation to the parents.  We were impressed, and made some suggestions.  "It might be interesting for the two of you to visit Vicarious Visions:  it's a local video game company started by two brothers who went to the same college as your dad, Frankie,"  I recommended.  "Yes, " Frankie's dad chimed in, "then you can sell the business and get a million dollars."  "And buy all of the parents houses in Vermont,"  I added, with a smile.  The boys looked at each and went back into Noah's room.  Noah the arbitrator came back out.  "This is a kids' company, and we don't want adults meddling," Noah informed us.  We respectfully backed down.

Apparently though, I'm part of their nascent marketing plan, as Noah is actually happy he's featured this week, and is instructing me to Tweet and Facebook this post as I'm finalizing it.

We hope they'll review their policies on excluding adults at some point, and consider hiring us.  Or at least give us stock options for giving birth to them.

When You're an Employee, You Only Have One Customer

Ever since my father took me to the office one Saturday morning at the age of 4, I wanted a job.  It dawned on me:  so that's where the quarters and dollars Daddy doled out to me came from.  Cool.  Sadly, I was not invited back, as my fascination / love of technology with buttons also began with that visit:  I destroyed a large electronic adding machine by pressing too many buttons at once.  It was exciting, especially when it started smoking and whining.  I gained the reputation from that toddler experience with the male members of my family of being unreliable around machinery, which was totally unfounded and unfair.  Ask my husband Joel:  I am End-User Support for our house and can resurrect even the most hopeless computer fiascoes, most of the time.

So while most of my contemporaries in high school were wringing their hands next to the phone waiting for a boy to call for a date (or not), I engaged in the exact same ritual with a potential employer.

I asked my father for advice, as he was (and still is) a whiz at getting jobs.   It's always the same advice, it just took several decades to sink in:  "If you make 30 calls, and you get one sale, you're doing great,"  he'd dictate.  "What does that mean, Dad?"  I asked, confused.  "I'm not selling anything, I'm not a salesman."  Dad smiled.  "Yes, you are:  you're selling yourself.  And you know how to do it, because you're my daughter. You're just not concentrating."  I still didn't get it, clearly befuddled.  Dad spelled it out for me.  "Don't focus on one company:  apply to as many companies as you can.  That way, you increase your chances of getting a job, and you don't drive yourself crazy waiting for one guy to call you back and hire you.  Don't put all of your eggs in one basket."

Communication gap bridged, I got it.  It involved a lot more work applying and interviewing at many other companies, but it sure beat the soul- and energy-sucking anxiety of sitting next to the phone waiting for a call from just one potential employer.

Recently, as I was in the middle of a career coaching session with a good colleague, I took my father's advice one step further.  The presenting challenge was how to best frame a proposal to their manager (Read:  Customer) on their next career step up the organizational ladder, with the accompanying increase in compensation.  I coached Good Colleague that the proposal should meet both their needs as well as the profitability needs of their organization.  "What if my manager rejects my proposal?"  Good Colleague asked.  "Well, then maybe you've outgrown the organization, and it's time to look outside the organization,"  I replied.  Good Colleague was dismayed.  "But I don't want to leave the organization, I love it there," they said.  Good Colleague, like Dad, is in Sales / Business Development.

I thought for a moment.  "If that's the case, then you only have one Customer.  And from a business development standpoint, we all know how dangerous it is to bank your success on one Customer."  Good Colleague nodded.  "You don't have to necessarily leave the organization right now:  but there's nothing wrong with reaching out to colleagues in your industry, to ask their advice and grow new and existing relationships,"  I continued.  "At minimum, you'll make some great connections and build your reputation if your current manager ends up accepting your proposal, and at maximum, you'll be prospecting for new potential Customers.  It might be a job; it might be a project; or it might be a business that you'll start and grow.  The Customer potential is only limited by your willingness to try."

How many Customers do you have?  And are you keeping those Customer relationships warm and mutually rewarding by meeting everyone's profitability and success needs?

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.

Teaching My 9 Year-Old Son How to Sell (Or Interview. Or Recruit. Or Date.) Resiliently

Our family had a wonderful time last Sunday afternoon volunteering for Spotlight Players Community Theater during the last performance of their Broadway-quality production of the musical murder mystery "Curtains." After experiencing their award-winning production of "Parade" earlier in the year, which we attended for free thanks to a grant obtained by the Spotlight Players, our friend Mike, who is a member of their Board, invited us to volunteer as ushers at one of the "Curtains" performances in exchange for free admission.

These experiences with the Spotlight Players have re-awakened our family's long-standing interest in theater, closely related to our passion for movies. And I suspect that our 9 year-old son Noah, who likes to sing in Junior Choir; who is completely comfortable speaking in front of large groups thanks to the inclusive culture at The First Unitarian Society of Schenectady (FUSS); and who is the recipient of some sales DNA, might at some point be interested in performing in a theatrical production.

Enough gifts for a family's Sunday afternoon, yes? There were more gifts to come in the form of the volunteer assignment that Noah and I shared.

When we arrived before the show, Joanne, the volunteer coordinator, had enough ushers. "Are any of you interested in selling tickets to the performance or running the 50-50 raffle?" Joel, my husband, Noah's father and the ying to Noah's and my yang, volunteered to sell tickets for last Sunday's matinee to last-minute arrivals at the lobby table.

Noah wanted to do the 50-50 raffle by himself. "You do need an adult to help you with the money, it can get quite busy," Joanne gently informed Noah. I chimed in. "It will be fun, we'll do it together -- it's just like the 50-50 raffles we do at FUSS luncheons after Sunday services -- half of the money goes to the winner, and the other half goes to FUSS." Noah agreed.

Armed with a plastic bucket full of change and a roll of raffle tickets, Joanne gave us our instructions. "$1 for one ticket; $2 for 3 tickets; and $5 for an arm's length of tickets. You'll sell the raffle tickets until the show begins, and then during intermission. The winning ticket will be drawn at the end of intermission, before the second act begins." She smiled down at Noah. "However, it would be two arms' length for Noah." Noah outstretched his arms in a "T" formation, and smiled back. "Okay, we're all set," I said. "Now, as the customers come in, approach each one of them after they're done with Daddy, ask them if they'd like to buy a 50-50 raffle ticket, and tell them how the raffle works."

The first couple left the lobby table and on cue, Noah approached them. And then he choked a bit. He looked back at me sheepishly. "I forgot what to say." I smiled back at him. "Not to worry -- why don't you listen to Mama a couple of times and then you can try again?" Noah nodded. I then smiled at the couple and explained the raffle, emphasizing the $5 option included the length of both of Noah's arms. They took the $5 option, enjoying the additional performance of Noah grinning and outstretching his arms as I measured the strip of tickets against them. "Okay, I'm ready to do it," Noah asserted.

The next couple approached, and Noah ran his pitch like a pro. Amused, they also chose the $5 option and Noah's brief lobby performance. "This is fun!" Noah exclaimed to me as they walked into the auditorium.

He approached the next couple, who appeared a bit harried. "No thank you, we're not interested," the woman said, unsmiling, to Noah. He turned to me, a bit crestfallen. "They said no."

What a great coaching moment. "Not everyone is going to say 'yes,' and you can't take it personally," I said. Noah nodded, listening. "They seemed to be in a hurry. We can try them again during intermission. And I'd like you to remember what Grandpa Howard taught me a long time ago: if you talk to 30 people and you get one 'yes,' you're having a great day."

Noah brightened. He got it. "We're already doing better than that," Noah calculated. "So we're already doing a great job!" Noah then proceeded to approach every person who entered the lobby both before the show and during intermission. And when he received the occasional "no, thank-you," he looked back and me and reasserted: "We have a lot of 'yeses,' so we're doing great!" I completely agreed, reveling in bearing witness to the lesson he was learning so positively and so early in his life.

Just before intermission ended, Joanne and the director counted our take for the 50-50 raffle. "Noah, you raised the most money of any performance for this show," the director informed us. We were both proud. The director invited Noah up on stage to pull and announce the winning ticket.

In front of an audience of strangers, Noah pulled the ticket and confidently announced the winning number.

However, in this coach's (mother's) opinion, there was more than one winner that day.

A wonderful and prosperous week to you and yours!