Wednesday, March 27, 2024

How Do We Get Where We Are

 In a comment, gz mentioned that being a manager is stressful. Yes, it is. And after writing my last blog post, I had a good think about those former colleagues from long ago when I was in banking. 

The manager was always stern, the times that I worked with her. But, certainly we're not born that way. I don't know what happened to her or what experiences shaped her to be that iron wall. I'm sure part of it was her having to swim against the tide, to show that even though she was a female, she was fully competent to take on the task of manager. And to swim against that tide, one had to be strong and to demonstrate strength.

Yet, I also feel that she most likely had always been a no-nonsense sort of person. If you exude that sort of vibe, you can also cut down on a lot of silliness some think it necessary to employ. So I can see the appeal, especially when you are in a situation where you need to get things done and done well. 

 I've had those moments myself. Where I am resolute, taking on the tasks at hand, and not stopping until they are completed. That part in me has made me a very good employee everywhere I've worked. 

But there's more to me than that. I am also curious by nature, and I like to see what my part plays in the big picture. If I can't see it for myself, I ask questions about it. If someone is talking about something that has nothing whatsoever to do with my task, but it's something interesting, I'll ask them questions, too. At my core, I enjoy learning.

I also like to laugh and have fun. Even if the work itself might be drudgery. I've danced with a broom, have broken out into song while dusting. 

I've been a supervisor a few times in my work life. I did it well, but found I preferred being a worker bee. In one of those supervisory positions, I realized that I was allowing one of my employees more slack than I allowed the others. I had to look at why that was. It wasn't that I allowed him anything wrong, but I found it curious that I extended him more grace than I did to my other staff. Once I was aware I did that, I set about trying to course correct. It was yet another example of how deciding a plan beforehand would have saved the extra aggravation course correction midstream entails. As is often the case, a situation soon presented where I would be able to act differently from how I did earlier. The employee was late. Again. In that particular job, this was an offense where one could be written up, and habitual tardiness was not tolerated. He went through his usual routine of providing a plausible excuse, in front of all of us.

Yes, the excuse was plausible. But, I also realized that particular card had been played often enough that one could say this seemed to be a habit. It was just on the verge.I told him that all of us needed to be present on time as we had certain tasks that needed to be done before we opened the doors to the public. It was unfair to other staff who would have to take on his tasks as well as their own if he weren't on time. 

A curious look appeared on his face, one tinged with disbelief and understanding. It was then I saw he took me for an easy mark. That his charm would more than make up for anything amiss he might do. I went on speaking. "As we need to punch a time clock, it's easy enough to see the number of times anyone has been a few minutes late. All of us have run into the unforeseen traffic jam one time or another, all of us have overslept. But, we are in a job that requires our being prompt all the same."

His shifted his weight as if digging his heels in. "Are you going to write me up?" There was a hint of defiance.

"I'm going to note that we had a chat about the importance of being prompt. Going forward, your time card will dictate what sort of effect this chat has had."

I would  have preferred to have a private word with him about it, although the situation presented itself in a place where we really didn't have a private space. 

One of my employees quietly said to me later, "I'm glad you spoke as you did. I was wondering how long he was going to be a favorite son."

I apologized for my blind spot and thanked her for extending me grace to figure it out and not hold it against me.

In that job, I had to write reviews on all my employees. It was easy for me to find faults with all of them, as it's always been easy for me to find faults with myself. I had read Zig Ziegler's book, "Top Performance,"  hoping it would help me be a better manager. I don't remember all the specifics, but something in that book thundered to me. Catch people doing something right. I kept a folder on each employee. When I caught them doing something right, I made a note of it with the date and dropped it in their file. When it came time to write their review, I could see all the good things they had during the year. I also made notes for the not so good things.

As for Mr. Tardy? He made sure to be on time after that chat. When it came time for his review, I noted that once he had been told that tardiness could be a potential problem, he took great care to be prompt after that.

I had another job as supervisor in a completely different field. I didn't seek that job, but was asked by a vice president to take it, as that department was in bad shape, and he felt I had the skills to turn things around and make it successful even though I was employed with them to do something different. In that supervisory position, I also had to write employee reviews, and I was called out for being too positive. I needed to show more of the worker's weaknesses that needed to be addressed. The senior managers who had called for this meeting felt strongly that I had placed an overinflated importance on my staff. I walked into that meeting confidently. My years in banking had served me well for this job in a completely different industry, as I had learned in banking to document everything. 

I listened to them drone on about the importance of presenting a realistic picture, that there was no way everyone on my staff could be considered above average, blah, blah, blah. They were speaking most earnestly and in a dismissive sort of way one does with a lesser being. 

All that rarified hot air.

Our company had had a merger, and many of these senior managers from the other company felt they had to prove themselves and send a message to everyone else. The veep who asked me to take on the job wasn't present, although, another man was, whom I knew was very satisfied with how things had gone over the year.

When they gave me permission to speak, wearing smug, self-satisfied smiles that they had properly berated me, I smiled as I started to speak. I'd had many years of people subtracting points from my IQ because they viewed the position I held as lower than theirs. As if my entire being were my job.

"Gentlemen, I understand what you are telling me. Normally, I would agree with you. But, my staff  have gone over and above repeatedly during this review period, and have done so willingly. I have here a list of what we have accomplished as a group over this past year." I got up  and handed each a copy of the list. "Seventeen of these projects arrived to my work group so late that the only way we could meet deadline was to work weekends. Which my staff did. Voluntarily. Seventeen times. Yes, they are hourly employees. Yes, they were paid overtime. But, they could all have said no. They were not required to do this," (and here I emphasized "required"), "but were glad to do it so the work would be completed on time. Yes, their overtime meant more expense to the company, but I also have on this list the cost of the overall project and the projected amounts we would have lost had the work been late. Those projects amounts were taken from the contracts we signed that discussed payment terms.

"Additionally, I have a list of all the projects we completed ahead of time. In four of those cases, the clients were so impressed that we were able to secure a lot more work from them, and now have preferred relationship status with two of them. This clearly was the result of the work of my staff. I am not privy to the ongoing negotiations with those two clients so cannot provide you with the expected revenues from them over the coming year, but perhaps one of you would like to share those figures with me so I can add it to this."

Stunned silence. The one man whom I knew was pleased with our efforts wore a small smile. He had remained silent while the others were talking. I acknowledged that other departments within our company also had people who were just as diligent. But for the most part, those other departments were deemed "more important." I disagreed with that, thinking instead that every department served a function, and the better each department functioned, the better the company ran.

I concluded. "I'm thinking the dollar amounts from these two major clients is confidential information, so likely not to be shared with me. If there are any facts I have omitted from this list, please let me know what they are, so that I am able to present a realistic picture of my department."

The biggest blowhard thanked me for the list, as he had been looking at it while I talked. I had presented simply the facts. Nothing more, nothing less. I noted that his face flushed while I was speaking.

The man who had been pleased with us all along finally spoke. "I think you  have given us all the information we need, Megan. Thank you, and thanks to your department for accomplishing so much this year. I don't think we need for you to edit any of the reviews you have written for your staff," and here he looked at the line of senior managers, "Would you agree?"

Some grunted yes, others simply nodded.

My ears burned after I left that meeting room. I'm sure I was the topic of conversation.

My staff were curious about the meeting. I let them know what transpired, providing just the facts. One of my employees was working his way through grad school, wanting to obtain an MBA (Master of Business Administration). He had tried to be a contestant on the tv show "The Apprentice," starring Donald Trump. He explained the hierarchy of getting on the show. People wanting to be contestants had to go through a vetting process just to get to be a contestant. He'd gotten to the the semi final round in that selection process before being rejected. I'd never watched the show, but like others I worked with, enjoyed hearing him talk of his experience.

For one of his classes, he needed to interview a manager. He asked if I'd be willing to be interviewed, and I consented. 

He had prepared his questions carefully. He didn't share them ahead of time, so all my answers were off the cuff. I've always been candid, and was so during the interview. He asked about my management style, my influences, what I found most difficult.

I said I simply tried treating others as I would like to be treated. Sometimes that meant people saw me as a patsy, but invariably there would be situations that would occur soon enough to show them the error in their thinking. My influences were in part my faith, which provides me with a code of conduct, and which is NOT something encouraged to talk about in the workplace, and also the many different managers I've had. My career path wandered all over the place, so I had managers in many different industries. Some good, some not so good. Some were going to be the same sort of manager no matter what the circumstance. Others would adjust to the situation. These latter kind tended to be the ones I liked best and wanted to model. They realized they'd be called upon to be taskmaster one moment and  to extend grace the next. Which goes back to treating others as I'd like to be treated. At times I need that kick in the pants to spur me on so I can succeed; other times, I need a kind word.

The difficult part is putting that into practice and getting it right more often than not. Knowing my employees helped a lot with that. If I understood how someone was wired, then I could see the best way to manage him or her.  

He asked for a specific example. I gave him our work group. We weren't an especially large department, but we had many different kinds of people. Different nationalities. Different faiths. Some, like him, were highly educated. Others were not. For most, this was not going to be their forever job. Yet, it could provide a launch pad into this particular industry, or provide a good portable skillset that could work in many jobs. We needed people who were accurate and could work well under deadline. They had to work together at times, too, as well as separately. Our group had a few strong personalities--and here he smiled, acknowledging that he was one--so  how best to get them to work together?

He wanted to explore that and pressed me for details. My turn to smile as I explained that the strongest personalities in our group were also the most competitive. So, if I assigned tasks to each and pitted them against each other, both would use their natural competitive spirit to outdo the other, and to do their best work. If I followed that up with their needing to work together on something, then both would need to look at the positive contributions the other was making and realize they both were needed for complete success. The work didn't always allow for that, but employing that every chance I could meant I could keep my employees engaged in work they liked best where it could allow them to shine and also remind them at times it was only by team effort that some things would advance at all.

I paused, as he was taking notes and wanted to give him time to write it all down. "You scare me," he said. I laughed heartily. "Why?" I asked.

"In the culture I was raised in, as you know, women are very much second class." I nodded, as I had been acquainted with others from Middle Eastern cultures. "Coming to the US and seeing so many women free to do things was eye-opening."

"So, you are afraid of American women because we have so much freedom to do as we like?" I asked thinking that rather than being afraid of me specifically, perhaps he meant more general terms, although he hadn't really demonstrated any fear that I saw.

"No, I wasn't afraid of them; it amazed me to see them so confident and bold."

"So why do I scare you?"

"Because you explained succinctly exactly how you were able to manage our department so successfully by using our own strengths and weaknesses. That's brilliant."

"Thank you. But how does that make me scary? I don't think of myself as threatening."

"You're not threatening, But you can read everyone in the room and formulate what to do for success. You should try for 'The Apprentice.' You'd be an ideal candidate."

I laughed again. "Yes, me. Who's never seen the show and has no interest in it."

"But you can read everyone in a room and quickly see the best way to get things done."

"And you find that frightening."

"Yes. I suppose it scares me that I'm that easy to read."

"I think most people are easy to read. If they put up a front, it's usually because they've something to hide or something to prove. If it's the latter, and I can provide a situation for them, then we can build on that success. If it's the former, well that's a different ball of wax."

"But, you've taken no management courses, and you know all this."

"I've had jobs where people have deducted points from my IQ because of the job title. As if there's no other parts to me. Managers who rule with such an iron fist and fear that they push everyone away, and measure success only by the number they have cowed. I learned from those jobs and managers. I also love literature and had a Shakespeare prof once say that if you want to know about human nature, read Shakespeare. He was right. My take has always been that we are whole people doing a job. This job is but one aspect of our life. It doesn't always need our entire person to show up in order for it to be done. But there will be times where stuff that has nothing to do with our job is exactly what's needed for us to succeed. Finding that balance and doing what I can to maintain it will either allow others around me to develop into doing their best because we are creating a place for excellence, or will make others jealous and do what they can to denigrate me or my actions."

"Which has happened before. I mean the denigrating part."

"Yes. That speaks more about them than me. I can't help that they're insecure."

He had stopped writing notes.

"Do you have what you need for your class assignment?"

"Oh, yes. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I tend to get sidetracked, so wasn't sure if I provided enough useful information."

"More than you know. I can see how a lot of what we discussed will help me when I'm in management."

"Oh, good."

"You still scare me. I've never been afraid of a woman before."

What he said floored me. I realized this willingness for him to be open and vulnerable was a tremendous gift he had bestowed upon me. I would do my best to let him see he had not misplaced sharing this confidence. "I'll try to avoid that power getting in the way of my best work."

He was always open about needing the job while he was attending school and likely not going to stay in the industry once he obtained his degree. By the time that occurred, the company had moved me out of management and back to the job I had held before I was asked by the veep to move to the management side of things.

That's a story for another day.



Thursday, March 21, 2024

Suddenly

 John's post over at Going Gently about the sudden death of a colleague brought to my mind a time when I was in banking. That part of my work life lasted nearly nine years, and I could tell quite a few stories about various sorts of people I met. You get to know a lot about people when you work with money, and when they trust you with their money, you get to know infinitely more.

I started at one bank as a floating teller, where I went from branch to branch all over the county. At one branch, where I was sent to work numerous times, I was given the worst window. This was typical practice, really. I usually got "left handed windows," as they were known which didn't bother me as I'm somewhat ambidextrous. And it was the window I was always assigned when I worked in this particular branch, so while it wasn't necessarily the nicest one ergonomically speaking, it was familiar.

It was the last window in the teller line, and the line layout was shaped like the letter C. The customers had to go through something like a maze and at the end go to the teller who was ready for the next customer rather than to pick a teller and wait in separate lines. My window opposite where the line ended, so customers often walked up to me to transact their business rather than waiting to be called. The branch manager was a rather stern woman who chided me once for having something of the previous transaction in plain view when the next customer walked up. Breach of privacy, she said. I covered the transaction with a piece of paper as the unbidden customer approached. He had heard what she said. I looked at him, said hello, and took his deposit slip.

"I didn't realize you weren't ready," he said. "No one was at your window."

"Yes, it's par for the course working this particular window, as you're but two steps away. I usually let the next in line know I'm ready, but if you've been waiting longer than you like, it's easy to walk right up."

He looked guiltily at the branch manager who was still glaring at me. I had learned from other dealings with her to allow some of her comments to bounce off because she wasn't going to change, least of all when a lowly floating teller suggested that her manner was about as warm as steel left outside in the dead of winter.

As I finished with his transaction and could surreptitiously take the earlier transaction and file it in the same bin with his (as we separated work by type of transaction, e.g, deposits in one bin, cashed checks in another), we nodded pleasantly to one another as we bid our good-byes. He looked askance at the manager. I could see he felt sorry for me. She moved away from me after that, returning to her office.

Ann was the teller to my left. She had been working there for a while, but hadn't worked with me before. She was older than I was, decidedly on the far end of middle-aged. The manager's curt tone hadn't escaped her notice, either, and she spoke quietly to me about it. 

I told her one of my gifts was to bring out the worst in some people. In many of those cases, I didn't even have to try; it just happened. Here, Ann smiled, and said with the manager it likely didn't take much from anyone. 

Between customers, we made small talk one to another. Ann liked working, had been married for years and years, found some of the customers delightful and others a handful.

I was scheduled to work at that branch for at least a week and likely two, so the ensuing days brought us  more opportunity to chat.

It was a Thursday. Fridays were always long days at the bank because we were open later, many people had Friday paydays, and waiting on so many more people could mean more opportunities for one's drawer not to balance. I had learned to pace myself on Fridays. Ann and I talked of strategies we had employed. Like wearing your most comfortable clothes and shoes. Taking advantage of any breaks in the line to bundle your work in smaller batches because it was sometimes easier to catch errors. And how tired one felt after work on Friday. That branch had Saturday hours as well, and having to go in Saturday morning after a busy, busy Friday was always draining.

Ann mentioned feeling tired just thinking about Friday, and we both giggled. I suggested she have supper as early as possible and go to bed at a decent hour so she could wake up refreshed.

She worked very neatly and tidily. She always proved her drawer quickly and efficiently. She thought my idea of early supper and bed a good one, and one she was going to employ. We bade good night to each other.

I got to work Friday morning a little early. Being a floater, I never had a key to the branch office, but I knew Linda, who was one of the key keepers, got there on the early side, so if I got there early, I wouldn't have to wait long to be let in.

I got there shortly after Linda, and she let me in. I set up my drawer and helped with some of the pre-opening tasks. The manager arrived next, surprised to see me already there and helping without being bidden. The other tellers rolled in and set about their usual duties.

Ann was always prompt, but she wasn't there. In fact, the manager mentioned, she had never been late. We were all perplexed as to why she hadn't called.

The phone rang. I answered it in my professional voice, using the bank's preferred way of mentioning the bank name, followed by my name, and asking how I could help. It was Ann's husband. He sounded distraught. He asked if I were Megan, the floating teller, the one who worked next to Ann. I said yes, I was she.

And here, all kinds of words tumbled out. How much Ann enjoyed talking to me. How nice I was. How she loved my sense of humor. When he paused for a breath, I said, "Well, all of us here like her, too. We were just saying it's not like her to be late."

"She's dead," he blurted. "She came home last night, we had an early dinner, she felt tired, went to bed early, and never woke up."

"Oh, I am so sorry," I responded as my mind was racing. "If you don't mind, I'm going to have you speak to the manager. There are likely certain personnel things she'll need to do, and she may have to ask you some questions."

"Undoubtedly."

Here, I saw the manager staring at me keenly. She disapproved of personal calls. I put him on hold, and told her the call on line 1 was for her.

She squinted with a mean look, as if I had wasted time. I knew it wasn't my place to announce to the staff what I had just heard. She took the phone receiver hurriedly from my hand and spoke in her crisp, professional, no-nonsense tone.

Then I watched her face crumble. She drew her breath in sharply. She looked at me, tears forming in her eyes.

I looked away, busying myself at my station. Which wasn't only by the end of the line but also very near the phone, which I was expected to answer most often, being the closest.

After the manager got off the phone, she broke the news to everyone there. A pall appeared instantly and hung over all of us. She needed to call to find out the procedure for this. Before a teller goes on vacation, or as in my case, leaves the branch to go on to my next assignment, the teller drawer is audited and cashed out. But it was always done with the teller present. What happens when the teller is not there?

As Ann and I had chatted during the week, I knew of several pending things she was working on and related those to the manager and Linda. It wasn't customary for a floating teller to work on them, but with Ann's demise, I'd likely be there at least another week. And I had more knowledge of those pending items than anyone else there.

We were nearly ready to open. If anyone asked about Ann, we were instructed to say simply she wasn't here today.

We opened precisely at 9:00 a.m. As with any Friday, it was a long day. I can't tell you  how many times I looked to my left, ready to say something to Ann, only to be met by a vacuous gaping hole. I was able to work on the pending items and complete them. One customer asked about Ann when I had called him with the follow-up information he needed. I said simply, "Ann's not here today, but we didn't get the information we needed to answer your question until now, and we didn't want you to have to wait for the answer, so I'm calling on her behalf."

The manager happened to be near me when I said that, and her eyes filled. We exchanged glances for hardly a moment then both looked away. I was just coming back from break, and there was a lobby full of people waiting.

After we closed for the day and were settling our drawers, the manager said we'd need to close out Ann's drawer. We'd have to fine count, meaning everything had to be hand counted, including bundled money. Ann had prepared for Friday by having nearly her limit in her drawer so she'd be ready to go.

The manager and Linda started counting the money. Dual control is standard operating procedure in a bank. Tears streamed down the manager's face. Linda dropped tears as she wrote down the totals. I stepped in to help count while the manager blew her nose. The head teller took the money I handed to her as carefully as if it were a raw egg poised on a spoon. 

There was one pending item awaiting resolution. Ann had written everything down in her tidy cursive handwriting. The head teller took the paper and held it close. She said she would do the follow-up.

It was such a strange suddenly. Small talk, a few smiles, some pending nondescript items to take care of for a tomorrow that didn't come.

I went on to work at other branches several days later. I didn't have to experience having to tell customers about Ann's passing, and by my next stint there, enough time had elapsed that no one would have thought to ask. 

The manager was still stern, although a good deal kinder. Linda was glad to see me, as always.

I haven't thought of those people in a long, long time. I wish them well, wherever they are.