Life Happens Outside of the Office
Bill Bunting, MBA
Former Technology & Healthcare Executive Turned Stay-At-Home Dad. Need Boat Gas Money. Mental Health & Social Justice Advocate.
I’ve spent the better part of my career in healthcare arguing that “patients are people.” It seems like a novel concept, but the truth is, over the past 50 or so years in healthcare, we’ve forgotten that simple tenant—especially with regards to realizing that life happens outside of the doctor’s office. And life context, arguably the “other” 95% of healthcare, will change the face of medicine and the delivery of medicine if we allow it.
But that got me thinking.
For the past year and a half, I have spent more time on LinkedIn than I normally do. Chiefly, because I have been looking for a job—albeit I have been unsuccessful in finding the right fit. What I have noticed, though, is that much like our profession, we have forgotten that we are each a person. We are greater than our title of “professional.” Or CEO, or director, or manager, or specialist, account executive, or job seeker.
Each of us—individually—has a life outside work and outside of our professional title. We’ve just forgotten that, because (as a contextual example similar to healthcare above) we spend probably 95% of our time working and 5% of our time having a life.
But have we become too professional?
Are we now stodgy?
Part of what makes us “human” is our unique experiences. Yet, on platforms such as LinkedIn, we keep it strictly professional.
Granted, LinkedIn is a professional networking site. And we have seemingly come to a point where we just assume that only “professional” things should be shared on the platform.
Why?
Why are we afraid to share what happens outside of the confines of our office—our employer, our profession?
Why have we quit with the "water cooler talk?"
And when we do share—such as when we have personal conversations with our peers at work or converse back and forth with friends through messenger online—why are we then afraid to share some of these same experiences with our broader network?
One might argue: “that’s what Facebook is for.” And, as one of my old bosses would say: “you might be right.” But I would argue, especially for my generation and the generations that I work with most, we’ve quit being personal on even Facebook.
We’ve become closed off—seemingly, much like the doctor-patient relationship has.
“Differences” in life—whether cultural, or political, or environmental, or financial, and the list goes on—have made us cease up.
They’ve made us quit talking on an “N of 1” level—a personal level.
So, I thought that I would break the mold:
I recently had a prospective employer—the hiring manager specifically—ask me how old I was. Granted, this was highly inappropriate, but it made me think on my hour-and-a-half drive home.
“Upper thirties,” I had answered. Yes, still “young” by most accounts.
The truth is though, I’ve lived a hard life. I’m “different.” Maybe not on the outside, but on the inside—often battling depression and always battling anxiety and high-functioning Asperger’s, or “Autism” if I was being politically correct now that it’s part of the “spectrum.”
That may come as a shock to some in my network—that I would put all of that out there so openly—but for one, it’s not the first time I have, and for two, I don’t believe in the stigmas that have been associated with mental health and disability because as a person, and as a body of people with disabilities, I am, and we are #notbroken.
And for three, well, it’s part of the personal story I am sharing.
I mentioned above that I have spent the better part of the last year and a half looking for a new job. Early on in my search, I started noticing differences in various company’s application procedures, and then, differences in applicant questions and their structure.
And, as is required, application after application, I received the “disability” question. For much of my search early on, I was afraid to disclosure my disabilities, which each show on the on standard federal form.
So, I would simply click “No,” sign and date, and click submit.
Ironically, I would get job interviews.
Nonetheless, it peaked my curiosity, while also flipping a switch from within—what would happen if I quit being afraid of what others thought and selected: “yes?”
Ah, nothing you would think. But by all accounts, my rate of interview has dropped by probably 85% since beginning to be truthful in how I responded to this question.
Sheer coincidence, perhaps?
But I have tested the theory across almost every major healthcare IT company; non-healthcare companies; jobs I am qualified, not-qualified, and over-qualified; and the like.
The lack of interviews, and thus, the lack of a job, has been tough—financially, mentally—I won’t lie. Especially given that I don’t want to work for a company that doesn’t accept those like me.
But at the same time, it’s been a godsend.
I’ve been blessed with the time to get to know my kids on a whole new level. And, I’ve been able to share some experiences with them that I will cherish forever, such as fishing.
Now, I grew up fishing, and I was lucky enough to have a Dad who would take me. But the one thing we didn’t do, especially as I grew older, was talk. School, feelings, struggles, changes, fears—nope, we just fished.
This summer, I vowed to not repeat the past. And I have continued that this fall.
So, on our way to and from the water, and while we wait for the fish to bite, we just talk. Nothing is off limits. Everything is encouraged. Jokes are a bonus.
In a way, I’ve been lucky not to have a job this year because it’s given me the precious gift of “time.” Time that, especially in these formative years for my children, is invaluable, even at the financial burden and toll it has come with.
And it has changed my job search and my perspective in what I am looking for. I want to be with the right company for my career moving forward, but I want to be with a company that believes in and respects the work-life balance.
The moral of the story is, though, live life. Experience life. Value life. And most importantly, share life.
We’re all professionals, but let’s not forget we are also people.
So, just as you share articles to your network, don’t be afraid to humanize yourself either.
Open yourself up and experience a whole new feeling.
You can start here and now, in the comments below. Just share something, anything, personal.
#work #job #office #worklife #employment #employee #recruitment #recruiting #recruiter #watercooler #life #family #kids #children #fishing #fish #adventure #experience #takeakidfishing #mentalhealth #autism #disability #disabilities #notbroken
Editor, Writer, Artist, Innovator
6 年The cool thing about middle age (just a preview for you) is you learn to stop hiding the things that make you different and honestly embrace them - not just privately, but in your everyday interactions - as an inseparable part of what makes you great, not wholly replaceable by anyone else. Reading your post, it's obvious you are well on your way in the adventure of just being you, and I am sure you will find many great paths, personal and professional, as a result.
SunCoast RHIO Founder; Owner, C Vision, Inc.
6 年Very cool. I also am on the spectrum and proud of it.
Managing Director
6 年Wow, love that perspective, Bill.