Three Mentors, Three Mantras

THREE MENTORS, THREE MANTRAS

After the dust settled from all the commotion caused by the commander, we were graced with a new Quality Manager. He was a fine gentleman and had local experience in a similar nearby shop. He knew the business and was a welcomed replacement. Things would now get back to normal. I could focus on my work without all the drama. The Engineering Manager who had recommended the commander was replaced. The result was good; we had new management in two key positions. The situation looked very promising.

I’ll call him Beau. Word of his arrival came, and I looked forward to meeting the new Engineering Manager. By then, we had expanded to two buildings, and I was working in the second building across the parking lot. The story was that he had been an officer in the French Foreign Legion earlier in his life. He had created a buzz in my building amongst the production workers. They said he was a peacock. Yes, men gossip about men! Becky came to my building to deliver the news of her new boss. She seemed very happy and energized. She was all smiles. “Wait till you get a load of Beau. You will love him!” I wondered what she meant but politely said, “I can’t wait.”

I was at my desk early the following day when I heard a voice call my name in a French accent. “Laura, where is Laura?” There was Beau. He was standing at the doorway of our large office, gazing at me. “Laura, I have been waiting to meet you.” His hand was outstretched as he walked toward me like he wanted to take me onto a dance floor. His approach made me rise to my feet. Oh my! I began to smell the fragrance of Vetiver.

Moving closer, I quickly observed him as impeccably clean, meticulously dressed, wearing expensive clothes and the shiny shoes of an officer. He was tall, slim, striking, not movie-star handsome, but utterly sure of himself and unlike any other management-level man in the company. He reached my desk, I smiled and offered my hand to shake his, but he gently took my hand and kissed it! Of course, he did; he’s French! Melt. Still cradling my hand, he said, “I’m so happy to meet you. I want to talk to you about my plans for your department. I want to move Document Control to the Engineering group. I’ve heard good things about you. What do you think about that?” All I could think was I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened! The kiss on the hand, I mean. Here was a lady’s man in a precision sheet metal fabrication shop! Becky was right! This was going to be fun! I managed to say, “That sounds wonderful!”

Beau was friendly and a chatterbox and loved impromptu conversations. He was indeed a bon vivant. He was a connoisseur and a masterful cook who spoke of his recipes and fine wines. This person enjoyed his life and was always anxiously awaiting the weekend when he would ride to the wine country, eat out at fine restaurants, and go to events and concerts. He was always taking a weekend trip somewhere. Beau worked hard but also knew how to play. It was refreshing to have someone in our midst who enjoyed living the good life. I found his enthusiasm to be very inspiring. He was a perfectionist and made you want to be better.

His door was always open, and one day I came to him with a problem with the Production Control department. They were always trying to beat the system and go around it. The coordinator was gruff, and I wouldn’t say I liked her style. We butted heads quite often. I explained my dilemma and my frustration. Beau looked at me and said, “Laura, I cannot fight this fight for you; you must stand up to them. If you’re going to survive in this business, you need to have the skin of the rhinoceros. That is all.” ?And with that, he motioned me out of his office with his hand. The officer had dismissed me. At the time, it seemed harsh, but I realized that he was helping me stand up for myself—something I would surely need later in my career.

“You need to have the skin of the rhinoceros.” That was the part that stuck.

Becky and I had become friends, and I don’t know if she knew it, but she had been mentoring me. She loved to cook and entertain and enjoyed hosting dinners at her home. She often invited our coworkers from the engineering group over for long lunches on special occasions like Beau’s birthday. Becky also loved tea parties and had a vast collection of teapots displayed in her kitchen. She was a natural homemaker who enjoyed cooking and preparing food for friends and family.

At work, she was one of the best in her department and never hesitated to answer my questions. She helped me immensely when I wanted to improve my department and how I ran things. She helped me develop my ideas, and I could always count on her for advice. One day I was trying to decide how to reorganize the massive drawing and ECO files I oversaw. It was going to be a lot of work. Becky sensed my hesitancy to come to a decision, and she looked at me and said, “You’re an intelligent girl; you can do hard things.” She reminded me how much my little department had grown and improved. “Think back to what it was when you first got here; now you have an assistant," she said. From then on, I learned to apply myself, not give up on complicated situations, and find a solution. And even now, when the going gets tough or doubt sets in, I still remind myself,

“You can do hard things!”

Harsh was a Manufacturing Engineer who hailed from India. He was highly educated, polite, respectful, curious, and had a wonderful sense of humor. We got along famously, and I quickly engaged him in conversation whenever he came to my office. I enjoyed listening to him discuss the parts with the other engineers and the production workers, and I found his explanations fascinating. A thoughtful man, I could watch the wheels turning in his head before he spoke.

He always asked Becky and me about American slang terms as he sought to understand and fit in. Harsh enjoyed going to lunch with the bunch of us, and mainly I think he enjoyed listening to the girls talk as we rode to the restaurant. He would always ask, “What does this mean?” Becky and I loved giving him explanations, and he was always very grateful for gaining understanding. But one day, he threw us. We were riding in Becky’s van, and Harsh seemed pensive. I asked him what was wrong. Very seriously, he said. “Laura, I am very confused, I understand what a “stud” is, as in metal stud, and I understand what a “muffin” is, as something to eat. But I do not understand. What is a “stud muffin?”

We all burst into hilarious laughter and then I probed, “Harsh, has someone called you a stud muffin?” Another burst of laughter in the van. I was sorry, but I couldn’t resist! We were torturing him by now. He was laughing along with us, but the poor man did not get his answer yet. Becky is laughing uncontrollably while driving and yells from the front of the van, “It means a hot guy, Harsh.” “Hot guy?” he questioned. “Yes! I said, as in very sexy hot guy!” “Oh, yes, yes, now I see," he replied softly. He sunk into his chair.

This sent him for a loop, and he was almost embarrassed for the asking. He seemed worried that he had offended us. But we were still in stitches! We calmed him and told him it was a good question. Who would know what stud muffin meant? That was the whole idea; we were teaching him American slang. From then on, all we had to do was say “stud muffin,” and we could break into hysterics.

Among all his other good qualities, Harsh was very diplomatic in his dealings with the company owners, who often asked for his technical opinion. I observed him on many occasions as he carefully explained his recommendations. Sometimes his answers may not have been what someone wanted to hear, but he always based his responses on facts and had that information available to back up his theory.

I wanted to improve my dealings with the higher-ups, so one day, I asked him a simple question, “How do you handle the tough questions from the owners?” He thought a moment and then gave a simple answer. “I take it lightly and solve it politely.” Yes! I understood; he took it lightly by keeping his emotions out of the conversation and remained above board by always treating people respectfully and with politeness. I loved it. That was a keeper! I have thought of it many times, which has always served me well.

Take it lightly and solve it politely!