I looked over my shoulder. My co-worker, Carol, looked down and to the side as she approached, her eyebrows knit together. I put the plate in my hands back in the cupboard. Carol opened the fridge, put her lunch bag on a shelf, and shut the door. She proceeded to fix herself a healthy breakfast drink at the sink near to where I stood, her eyes downcast.
I asked her how she was and she replied she was okay… but her father was in the hospital. Another co-worker, Brenda, walked into the kitchen and greeted us with a warm hello, then paused as Carol described what she was going through. By anyone’s standards, Carol was going through a difficult time. Her face reddened and tears came to her eyes, and I felt a sting in my own.
Conventional wisdom says we should keep our personal and professional lives separate. This is a good idea for anyone who may consider dating someone at work, and an especially good idea for young professionals, I think, who may be starting out in their careers. When I worked for a TV news station, just after I graduated from college, I often socialized with my co-workers outside of work. By this I mean, after work, we went out and we drank. We worked the night shift and we didn’t think it odd to go for pancakes and beer the next morning.
It was common at this news station for co-workers to date each other, which booby-trapped our work environment with secret and blatant alliances, and lots of gossip. One senior producer wore a large yellow diamond engagement ring, given to her by the senior weather-forecaster. “Have you seen her ring?” another producer asked me, “It’s so gaudy”. We judged each other per our alliances, which affected our perception of each other’s effectiveness on the job, and I would not want to work in an environment like that (or go for beer and pancakes) again.
I listened to Carol and to the words Brenda offered as comfort. I learned we each felt responsible for things out of our control – especially when it came to our parents, siblings and children. I thought I was the only one who took on the role of “fixer” for my family members. Like Carol, I want to prevent bad things from happening to, and mend conflicts between, those I love.
If I had walked out of the kitchen, if I had politely disengaged, I would be without this insight. I told Carol I admired her strength, intelligence and dedication to her family. I shared my own relevant experiences, but I mostly just listened to her story.
If you’re like me, you like to work, to feel useful, and to provide for your family. You think having money in the bank is nice too, especially after paying the bills. So, I keep myself at work. But now, I don’t know if I want to continue to keep who I am at home separate from who I am at work.
Here’s an article from TechRepublic I found insightful, called “Familiarity can breed contempt among co-workers,” by former Managing Editor Toni Bowers. I like her point about changing my expectations of my co-workers’ behavior, or habits, in the office. My desk sits in an open-office plan, which means few walls, lots of shared space, and little privacy. I admit, at times, my co-workers seem all too familiar.
Professionalism, to me, is a reflection of how much respect we show for the responsibility our employers give us. I like to think there’s an achievable balance between too much familiarity and cold professionalism. Despite the Industrial Revolution and the rise of the Digital Age, we don’t work like robots. Robots have no family ties. Robots shut off after work. Robots have no bills to pay and no problem with shared workspaces.
In a conversation with a supervisor about my current job as an office manager, she likened it to the opposite of a robot’s role – the role of a mother, and I stifled a cringe. I had my hands full as a real mom and did not intend to be a surrogate mom to a group of grown-ups. But I couldn’t deny the idea’s logic.
In my supervisor’s view, an office manager is a compassionate curator of the tools and methods others use to conduct their days. What work can be done if there’s no internet access, or a place to sit, or a working laptop? An office manager connects people with their work and, like a parent, they know what their dependents need and how to deliver it. In truth, I cringed at my supervisor’s view for fear of letting others down. As I write this, I accept where I am, the position I hold, and I intend to cultivate my position’s relevance and significance. An office manager may not be a glamorous position, not unlike a mother, but with the right mindset it can be an art.
I can be professional and compassionate. I can be who I am without oversharing. I can let my walls down halfway. When I do, it won’t be like it was at the news station. I am with a different group now, with better group-dynamics. I am two decades older and a mother. If I anticipate behavior in accordance with my prior negative experiences in a gossipy and contentious work environment, I operate under a misleading premise. This is a valuable insight, given the amount of my life I spend at work. I cringe when I think of spending it under a false assumption.
This simple realization led me to create a list of lessons I learned over my quirky career path across multiple industries. The list grows as I consider my varied experiences, and grows more as I ask myself: What is the lesson for today? I like to write and I thought, okay, I’ll turn these lessons into blog posts. What you are reading is the outcome of my first efforts.
A final side to this project is my acceptance and intentions. I accept my co-workers for who they are and, to enhance my compassion, I intend to listen to and learn from them, and pass what I learn on to you.