The Obama Principles

I’ve tried my best to keep this blog bipartisan. I mean, really, red state or blue, we all live by the same canons of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. The struggles in both life and work are the same across the wide political spectrum. In these recent years, the hunger for change was shared among many of my countrymen and women. Yes, it was palpable.

We’ve witnessed one miraculous week. And today I find myself with a little spring in my step, encouraged by the fresh breeze blowing west from the Capital. I always marvel at great leaders’ abilities to inspire. It’s a wonderful asset that keeps your people loyal, supported, encouraged and coming back for more.

Whether it be in governmental politics or more the office variety, great leaders are great leaders. Because this is a work blog, it is only natural that I look to Barack Obama’s stellar rise to the presidency as a map to chart the change I yearn for in my professional life.

I’ve never been so lucky as to have a boss that engendered the same strength of conviction and level of esteem I felt for President-Elect Obama. But his model of leadership could have bearing on the more mundane parts of our lives, and his presidential campaign could represent any work environment. Whether it’s getting out that proposal or getting out the vote, the same rules of conduct apply. What did we learn in these past 18 months that could inspire new generations of professional leaders to create the same momentum in their workforce that the Obama campaign did so naturally in its bases of support?

So with my limited grasp of presidential politics, I’ve developed what I think are the principles of his campaign that could carry over to creating a dynamic, effective, motivating model of working life.

1) Ditch the ego
Great leaders seem to have that magic mix of confidence and sincerity. And I believe many of Obama’s supporters were compelled by his strength of character and struck by his sincerity of message. But his platform of change came with the caveat, that even he will make mistakes and push legislation that will alienate some of his constituencies. His supporters could tell he was ruled by a reasoned mind and not the vainglory we’ve seen occupy the White House. He made us believe that his rise to power was ultimately in our best interest.

2) Be critical
Great leaders can hold the mirror to themselves, see their foibles and learn to adapt. They can also respect their limitations and surround themselves with a roster of staffers who are strong where they are weak.  I was always struck by Obama’s self-reflection, and his ability to call on others to compensate for what he lacked. That he was able to acknowledge Sen. McCain’s accomplishments, even in the most unlikely of places, like, say, a presidential debate, shows his ability to give credit where it’s due. An important leadership trait indeed.

3) Shut up and listen
This one follows closely on the previous principle, but it puts the theory into practice. My conversations with most of my administrators are very much of the one-sided variety. I’m left puzzled about why they care about my resume when they refuse to acknowledge my expertise. I admire President-Elect Obama’s knack for surrounding himself with the wisest of counsel, and then taking it a step further and actually listening to their advice. Good show.

4) Give ownership
His campaign messaging was not about the change he could provide, but the change we need. Yes we can. What a wonderful way to give us a say in changing the course of this country.  The overtone implies that at some point we’ll all have to roll up our sleeves to get us out of this mess. Somehow, I’m looking forward to it.

5) Technology is way cool! Use it.

Communication is, in the words of Sarah Palin, awesome. You betcha! Yes, let’s do the face-to-face, but let’s also remember that there’s a vast array of new technologies that might strengthen the interaction, keeping us connected without the need to be tied to a desk or stuck in a staff meeting. The use of Web 2.0 communication technologies was unparalleled in this campaign. And as he administers the executive branch, I can already see how he’ll plug into the online networks of his constituents, creating opportunities for mediated dialogue between his administration and the people whose interests he represents. That can only work to strengthen the system.

I’m waxing a bit sentimental right now. After re-reading this post, I realize that this was my personal love letter to Barack Obama. I’m sure that conservatives will have their own take on my thesis.

But more importantly, I realize how better off I’d be if I learned to incorporate these principles into my own work ethic. Yes, be the change I want to see in this world.

That’ll be a rough…the ego one, especially. Yeah, that’ll be pretty rough.

So where’s my ‘Get Outta Staff Meeting Free’ card?

Venkatesh Rao has become my personal career guru. I’ve written about Ribbon Farm here before, but lately he’s gotten some significant play in the New York Times as well as other blogs about the transcendence to a different model of work and life. His ideas are wonderfully idyllic. But if the momentum from the last few days is any indication, we have the power to manifest tremendous change in our society. There are better days ahead. I can only hope that our professional lives follow suit.

His latest entry plots his development of a new board game (think Chutes & Ladders with a new media twist) that charts the ups and downs of working life in this Web 2.0 working world. If this had been in my arsenal of childhood pastimes (more career coaching, less Barbies), maybe I would have been better equipped to handle the trials and tribulations of my own work life.

Bad Economic Times Hit Home

My company announced a staff hiring freeze until June 2008 which essentially put the kabosh on any intra-departmental moves to a new position. Conversations behind closed doors are alluding to some serious economic crises on the horizon, even in a secure organization such as mine. I’m wondering if “leadership” will help put ease our nerves and speak to us staffers about it, but I know better.

Information is power, and power-plays need not entail threats or harassments. Sometimes keeping mum and letting people fester in their own fears does the job quite well.

There’s a dark cloud over my current job search. But when one door closes, a window opens, right?

Lessons from the Lucky

I recently found myself at a cocktail party, complete with blue cheese on figs and sliced anjous. Joe Six-Packs, there were none. This was a soiree in the hoity-toityest of senses.

I knew the hostess but had never met the guests. And like any social function filled with the prospect of awkward conversations, the talk inevitably turns to our jobs.

I have my standard reply to the dreaded question, “and what do you do?” It makes light of my misery without forcing me to tears. “Well, it’s not exactly my dream job, but we all have to eat!” Ba-dum-bum.

As I worked my way across the room, talking of wine and gouda and jobs, there was a peculiar similarity among my companions. When they talked about their jobs, there was no eye twitching, not a single cringe or shudder to be seen. In fact, quite a few of them actually smiled. During a conversation, a woman talked about her recent trip to Panama. “It was for business” she said. “But work’s like a vacation anyway.”

WHAH?!?!

It was at that moment that I realized where I was. Like Dian Fossey stumbling out of the fog and butt-up against a gorilla, I was amongst the elusive creatures whose existence fills my dreams. These were the people who like their jobs.

I knew this was my chance to discover their secret, and follow their paths to my own professional utopia. So I studied their habits and copied their mannerisms and tried to find that one nugget of information that would guide me in my quest. And in the end, I could find anything. Their stories were all so different: fashion designers, teachers, set decorators and architects, from college drop outs to graduate school.

But if there were any common threads or pearls of wisdom, it was that they knew what made them happy and made a conscious decision to turn that love into a career. Whether it was working with kids or with their hands, none were tied to a desk all day, or stuck in regimented schedules. Theirs were professions that honored the results over the process. It didn’t matter what time they showed up for work, as long as the job got done. Design a beautiful single-family home or teach a deaf five-year-old her ABCs. They had the autonomy to do what they needed to do, and the respect from their peers to get it done right.

I envy these life forms, but I can learn from them as well. Having the clarity of mind to understand yourself and the flexibility to do what you love on your own terms. Those are the stuff that wonderful careers are made of.

Workforce 2.0

There’s a movement brewing. Can you feel it? It’s the tired, the poor and huddled masses in collared shirts and high heels yearning to breath free. We’re breaking through our tethers, turning our manila folders into torches and storming out of this place. I’m not the only one who can hear the disgruntled moans of my workplace brethren. ZenHabits’ enlightened piece on Productivity 2.0 shows me that there are pockets of the employed desperately fighting this machine.

I’m embracing the cliche that we are living in the midst of a communications revolution. We’re instantly and constantly wired so I wonder why the workplace isn’t adjusting to our virtual connectivity. But as the older regimes retire or are outsourced, my hope is that younger generations more comfortable with the technology will help redefine the workplace into something less of the brick-and-mortar variety. Maybe they can do something about the florescent lighting too.

Rejection

“A rejection is nothing more than a necessary step in the pursuit of success.” -Bo Bennett

I’m not one to usually quote motivational speakers or self-help gurus. But I’m finding the advice particularly soothing this week. It’s been a rough one. You see, over the past month I’d mailed out a slew of resumes. This week came the flood of “your qualifications do not match our needs” rejection letters. At last count, there were five in my email inbox. In the off-line world, I’d tear them to shreds. But dumping them in the desktop “recycle bin” doesn’t enjoy the same satisfaction.

Like any self-respecting job hunter, I got a little mopey at first. Then I shoved a kleenex in my mouth to muffle the sounds of my sobs from the neighboring cubicles. I realize that anything worth doing is gonna be a bitch. Rejection is a consequence of trying to create a better life.

So I’m bucking up and surfing the job boards once again, thinking maybe tomorrow is the day I make it happen.

At What Price, Success?

Among my circle of friends are many who share my disgust of the traditional working environment. And in recent weeks, among this same circle, there are many giving up the fight altogether. Starting their own business, taking a sabbatical, cashing in their mutual funds for a few months traveling the Far East.

It’s a shaky time for me to think of so extreme an exit strategy. I like stability, as well as paying my rent. Considering a leave of absence from the working world makes me uneasy, and, to be honest, a little nauseous.

What these escapees had in common was their initial drive to succeed. A lawyer friend who graduated top of his class grew to hate the legal grind. A senior editor despised the rigidity of style guides and her perfectionist-of-a-boss and took the summer off to start a freelance career. A loan consultant who worked nights and weekends in the hopes of making manager sold her million-dollar home to teach English to monks in Thailand.

I had my own ambitions but found that on my sluggish climb up the corporate ladder that I was met with overly aggressive colleagues and a more grueling workload with each and every rung.

It’s a point of considerable contemplation for me – understanding the balance between doing what you love and finding good people to do it with. That’s a magical combination, but is it even possible? A couple of recent conversations are making me think otherwise.

Last week I met up with a former colleague whom I worked with for a number of years. The job was anything but glamorous, but we had a blast. In fact, it was one of the best jobs I’ve had in my life. Extenuating circumstances (best left to another blog post) forced us out of that place, but he quickly landed on his feet. His new job isn’t anything to write home about, but he adores his new boss who gives him leave off of work to go back to school and finish a bachelor’s degree in computer science. Not a bad move.

A later conversation with a friend of a friend fueled my internal debate. He was an ambitious and highly paid lawyer to the stars. But his bosses were unbalanced and his clients unhinged. So he saved up enough cash to take a year off traveling through Southeast Asia.

He’s back in the states and wondering about his next career move. But during our conversation, he shared with me his interesting conclusion. You can be an overachiever and take a grueling, rough rode to financial and professional success; or you can settle for a little less prestige and a little less glory. But you’ll be in the company of sane co-workers and enjoy a life outside of the office. Unfortunately, you can’t have both.

My job searches typically focus on the work itself: Will this look good on my resume? Where do I move up from here? Rarely do I wonder if I’ll like the people, or if I can share a laugh or even a friendship with my coworkers. It was important that I liked my new boss, but I focused on the tasks of the job hoping the friendships would develop. Funny, they never seemed to.

So there’s my conundrum. Finding more value in what I do or who I spend my time doing it with. It seems like pure luck to me, but maybe there’s a strategy to it. If you were able to have found both, I’d love to hear about it.

If You Can’t Join Them, Stalk Them

Stalking is a serious crime.

To women’s groups and federal law enforcement officials reading this post, I am in no way condoning stalking or the practice thereof.

But to the rest, I think it’s a valid means of testing the waters, and seeing if the grass is really greener in that other job.

One of the beautiful things about the Internet (and having the Internet at work) is the opportunity it prevails in researching not only potential companies, but potential coworkers. Most professionals nowadays have some online presence. It can be in the form of an online profile on one of the various professional social networking sites: LinkedIn, of course, is the industry standard. But if you dig deep enough, it can reveal their private online personas, via MySpace, Facebook or Twitter. Regardless of what career sages caution against, many people choose to have personal and often damning information about themselves online.

I eat it up.

When I research a potential company, I’ll start with their profile on Hoovers Online or GlassDoor.com. When that discloses only the stale business facade,  then I’ll go a little deeper, even a little darker. Pipl, ZabaSearch, or even a simple Googling can divulge sordid online stories of its company administrators. The good ones are careful about their online persona, but every once in a while a careless admin will add something on her Facebook page about the fat HR manager or the dull holiday dinner at the boss’ house.  Perhaps they’ll include a photo montage of themselves drunk at a co-workers Halloween party. Those are the best.

I do wish that each organization had an anonymous hotline you could call to be connected to one of its minions so you can get a cold, hard look at life on the inside. I always feel a little dirty being a company spy.

Burning Bridges, A Lovely Fire Indeed

With the upheaval on Wall Street, I should just be glad I even have a job, that I don’t work in finance or real estate and that my 401K will eventually bounce back.

And I am. I’m also glad I didn’t major in Business or Economics, but instead in English literature and Philosophy (and to think my high school counselor laughed at that). Unlike economic pundits, the bards and philosophers can give a little perspective to these troubled times.

Remember that there is nothing stable in human affairs; therefore avoid undue elation in prosperity, or undue depression in adversity. —Socrates

Then there’s this personal favorite, which incidentally has little to do with the economy or world affairs. But I’ll share it anyway:

When one burns one’s bridges, what a very nice fire it makes. –Dylan Thomas

A drunk Welshman who died a premature death from alcohol poisoning is not someone from whom I should be collecting career advice. But living a life that’s true to yourself often means going against the grain and cutting ties with those who don’t support your goals – either personally or professionally.

This goes to the topic of this post — burning bridges. Are we for it or against it? There’s nothing like a final proverbial flipping of the bird in the exodus from a bad job. Of course, this flies in the face of sage career advice. Never cut ties. Never burn bridges. You never know where that career salvation will come from.

Here is my question. For those of us with a professional past we’d like to bury, and who has worked for our share of boobs, smucks and incompetents. The bridges I burned were rickety at best, with a few missing panels, and hundreds of feet to a raging, deadly river below. Is it in our best interest to keep these ties? Must we really go back there?

As you may slyly detect, I’ve got some ugly career baggage. I’ve also burned a couple of bridges in my day. Not in a blaze of glory, no egos were bruised or tears shed. It was more in the vein of “You had a good thing and you blew it. See ya sucker!“

Now I’m looking into the fine art of networking and wondering if there are former bosses I want to reconnect with. In short, no. The ones I still talk to are the only ones I’d care to know. Don’t think I’d care to re-open doors I’ve already bolted and shoved the metaphorical bookcase in front of.

But maybe I’m looking at this the wrong way or maybe I lack the ambition to really get head in my career.

Pull out the whiskey, Dylan, and pour me a pint. I may be on my way to joining you.

It’s Not You, It’s Me (but really it’s you)

Once I was single and unemployed, with nary a prospect in either. It struck me as I spent my days meeting prospective bosses and nights flirting with prospective boyfriends that the process was nearly identical. It hit me as I tried to explain to a prospective boss why I’d stayed at my last job for less than year. It was the same excuse I used for why I’d broken up with my college boyfriend.

In our love lives, we’re encouraged to sow our oats, shop around and get to know ourselves before me settle for the ole’ ball n’ chain. Not so in our professional lives. Our job interviews go like any blind date. We look our best, lie to make ourselves look good, then wait weeks by the phone for their call. Oh please, oh please, oh please. Let them pick me!

If my job were a boyfriend, I’d be in one hell of an abusive relationship. My job and I would be ripe for couple’s therapy and I’d be shopping for a good divorce lawyer. Hell, the judge would be signing the restraining order as we speak.

I realize I’m being paid to play the role of the battered employee. Full benefits, even. Why do I deserve more, you say? Fine, you have a point. It’s what kept me long-suffering in my current situation, and consistently miserable throughout.

Now in my mid-30s, I’m finally happy in love, and I wonder if I can apply the lessons I learned in my search for a perfect partner to find that perfect job. Like the good men, are all the good jobs taken? Or should I be allowed to shop around, try different jobs on for size, and feel free to leave if it just doesn’t work out between us? Babe, it’s not you, it’s me, I can say. How else do you know what you’re really getting into until you’re there? And then, how the hell do you get out?

Knowing my rent was coming due, I’ve taken jobs that weren’t quite the right fit. Today, sitting at my cubicle, I feel like I’ve woken up hung over and lying next to a naked man whose name I don’t remember. Eight months after that blind job interview, I’m trying to sneak on my clothes and crawl out of the bedroom without waking him.