Changing just to change

Continuing my series chronicling my professional and personal life changes in the past year, I now write about taking that next job that got me out of a less-than-ideal work environment. Looking back, I realize that I should have taken a job with a clear mind rather than a hurt heart. If that meant taking longer to find a better fit for my personal values, professional goals, and organizational beliefs, it was worth it. The culture of a company matters... a lot.

As an FYI, my immediate supervisor did not rush me to leave my job, quite the contrary. In light of the toxicity senior leadership was creating, and my intentional rebelling against it, I was encouraged to take my time to find other options quietly; even given leads through my immediate team's networks. It may sound sad, or counter-productive, but at least I am thankful that the tension at that job was dealt with as openly as its consequences. Before I left that position, close to a dozen colleagues or staff from neighboring departments had been fired abruptly or quit. After I left, the departures continued. Only a handful of people I worked with directly still remain at the organization. The continuous murmur of "who's gonna be next" is what led me to get the hell out, fast, despite not being pushed out.

When I went on my interviews, however, I could already sense that I didn't like the environment, the work, or even the people. Still, because I wanted to leave, I lied to myself and thought that my psychosis was affecting the way I viewed other companies. A month after speaking about finding a new job with my supervisor, I took a position doing the same type of work at a company that pretty much offered me the same pay and benefits I currently had. All I would do was switch locations, but at least there was a professional challenge to work with a new market. I'd be going from a B2C to a B2B setting. All in all, I thought, I was escaping the drama and maintaining my lifestyle intact.

Obviously, that wasn't the case. While the majority of the staff at this new place were nice, the office life was slightly depressing. People ate at their desks, there was little interaction between colleagues, and passive-aggressive feedback (or through office refrigerator notes) was very much alive. It was quintessential sitcom office life. Within a month of starting the new job, I knew I would have to make an effort to stay there. Was it the company's fault? Well, having your new immediate supervisor talk crap about your new colleagues to give you the "lay of the land" certainly didn't help. But no, the mistake was mine. I rushed into something without fully understanding how my life would change.

During the interview process, this particular place was the one that offered me what I already had, and it was the place that seemed least problematic. Everything was so quiet and peaceful that in my over-worried mind it seemed delightful. That calm was masking the lacking organizational culture and over-reaching that management that staff experienced from corporate. After that position, I now advise anyone looking for new work to ask for "shadow days" at the potential places of employment. Don't just take a tour; don't just talk to one or two people who work there. Physically implant yourself in the work environment, for free, for a day or half-day, and sense things out. If a company flat-out refuses to let you shadow a potential colleague or future supervisor or doesn't give you an alternative, take it as a red flag.

I began to miss the blatant insults and criticisms of my former job, and when I finished my work with enough time to spare I got involved in office life activities that were questioned. Upon joining a staff committee I was actually asked about my motives. Upon using my personal, non-work affiliated, blog platform to express how microaggressions at work affect everyone in a team, I was called into a meeting with HR and given an ultimatum: never write about my work experiences again or risk being fired. I was "creating a hurtful work environment," despite never been told who was hurt by my writing. My supervisor, who’d make random comments about what I did over the weekend or what I said on Twitter, was monitoring my personal posts. His reasoning was that my personal social content could reflect badly on the company. Mind you, three months after starting the job I still hadn't listed my new position or employer anywhere. While I clearly understand the risk of employee comments on social media, my content could not be directly traced to the company and nothing was so inflammatory as to reflect badly on the organization if someone did connect me to it.

I approached HR with this concern, I felt uncomfortable with the degree of "monitoring" going on and assumed that my supervisor simply didn't like my content personally, but was using the company's reputation as a front. I was told that I knew what I was signing up for when I accepted a social media job that represented the company publicly. The HR woman who heard my concerns said my bosses had "every right" to see what I posted online, otherwise, I could make my accounts private.

Newsflash to HR people and bosses everywhere: digital marketing and its many branches on social were created to connect and share publicly. If I were posting mature content that I did not want my bosses, or colleagues, or mother to see, then I would turn my accounts into private mode. Since my work in social media meant I needed to stay relevant, have an online presence, and grow my networks for me and the company's benefit, my content was business and marketing related with some sprinkles of social life, and always PG-13. This HR concern was illegitimate. For this reason, having updated and balanced social media guidelines is necessary at every company. And those guidelines MUST include online bullying and harassment from within and from outside work environments. 

By month seven of my employment, I knew this behavior was not normal and that I needed to find a new position. Not for hurt feelings but for personal and professional safety. It's incredible how quickly things can change, for me the search for a new job became painful. All these questions came up about being an adequate employee, about whether or not my upbringing and age made me unfit for office work ("millennials can't do professional work!"), and even about my personality, race, or core values.

The generational gap between boomers and millennials does exist- and plenty of reports have addressed young professional's constant move from one job to another. With my two experiences back-to-back, I also had to question whether or not corporations are willing to retain young talent by investing in offering modern-age benefits, equal pay and better company culture. It takes two to tango; a bad employee can be a signal of bad management.

That's exactly what ended up getting me, a bad manager. In an exquisite "Et tu, Brute?" estocada, I was fired and blamed for misusing one of the company's made-up LinkedIn profiles which three people had access to. I have to admit, he played his cards well. Age does leave behind some wisdom, after all. 

It was the first time I ever got fired from a job. To my surprise, I actually expected it when I was called into that day's HR meeting. When I asked for a detailed explanation, it was clear that my firing was more personal than professionally motivated. My supervisor was nervous and court when I was asking those questions, the HR lady couldn't give me a clear response. Looking back I may have even laughed a little during the 15 to 20-minutes-max meeting. All in all, I was actually happy. Somehow the saga ended and I knew then, as I know now, that I can stand behind my work. My efforts created results that are factual, while I don't sell myself as an "expert" I work hard to do my job, and continue learning and testing innovative ways to do it. 

After getting fired I went to get an iced coffee. I grabbed dinner with my mom that night to break the news and she congratulated me. "Don't ignore your gut instinct, this happened for a good reason and you are a hard worker," coming from a Boomer it was the support I needed. I filed and was granted unemployment, and finally accepted the fact that I would not look for another office job. At the same time, my family's business was reopening and my mother made me a business offer. 

"Come work in the business, in five years we can decide to sell, sublease or franchise and you can learn in the meantime how to run things," she said. This is the same business that put me through high school, college and graduate school. The business I had tried to escape because I did not want to work in the food industry for life. I agreed. 

For the next year, since my firing, I consulted in digital marketing and loved it. Having the independence to lead a project from start to finish, teaching people how to become their own "experts" and being respected for my work without having the weight of office drama over me, made me want to be my own boss even more. Meanwhile, the construction of the new restaurant was underway.

My doubts on whether or not I was a good employee that could become a good leader still lingered. Ironically, I gained so much respect for my supervisors (even the awful one) once I was put in charge. It turns out we all stink as employees, in one way or another. For the next four years I experienced everything, from horrible to amazing, working as a manager/supervisor.

Regardless of the industry, of economic levels, and even of immigration status, all employees- all of them- share the same frustrations, fears, and expectations across fields. The unexpected experiences I have had taught me more than any class at business school could. And now, I may be looking to go back into office life.