Stepping In | Part II

I wrote at the beginning of the year, my intention for 2025 is to step in. And, with Lent approaching this week, I find it is a good time to check in to see how I have stepped in, where I haven’t and where I should.

The events around us are moving quickly.  On a macro scale, many are not aligned to my personal values or hopes. On a micro scale, in the community of family, friends, and colleagues I  journey with daily, they are very much moving in the right direction.

I find in these moments when the macro and micro levels are polar opposites, I feel a sense of paralysis. Are the simple acts of kindness, support, and leadership I am providing enough? Should I do more? And if so, what is “more”? Is there anything holding me back from stepping in?

I reflect on the cliches such as “God is in control” or “all things work together for God’s goodness and glory” or “sometimes you need to tear down in order to build up”. Those are all true and yet, for me, not truly helpful at this juncture.

I have a fundamental belief we are all blessed with gifts to serve God and others. God doesn’t call us to be passive or to be bystanders. Could God tear down and rebuild our world? Of course. We have the story of Noah or Sodom and Gomorrah which tell us God can destroy and rebuild without our help. But, is that what God wants? I offer to you it is not. Not unlike Esther, we are “called for a time such as this.” God wants us to step in.

In my spirit as I write this, I feel God is pushing me forward, saying YES! STEP IN! And my answer back is, how? There are so many opportunities, how do I discern which is the “right one”? The answer to the question is there isn’t a “right one”, there is this one. The next right step in front of me.

That could be allowing someone to merge in on the interstate, engaging in conversation with the check out clerk or holding a door open for a neighbor. How we step in doesn’t have to be grand – it can be simple. The point is to take the step and let the next right step unfold before me. It is a deep trust that yes, God is in control and God wants my participation in bringing forth a “new heaven and a new earth” (Rev 21:1). God could certainly work faster without us, and God wants to co-create the world with us, give us agency in the communities in which we live, work, play, heal and pray.

It is in doing the simple, everyday acts we bring hope. We can counter the hate, vitriol and deception which make for “good television” but are not the community or world I want to live in. We create ripples of change in our inner circles, which God will spread to others. We can move mountains one rock, one pebble at a time because God has called us, “Only to do justice and to love goodness, and to walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8) and “do to others whatever you would have them do to you,” (Matt 7:12).

To step in doesn’t need to grand. We only need to take the next right step in front of us with confidence and faith that God will do the rest.

Liturgy and Ministry | The need for both

I had never felt more alone or lonely than my junior year of college. I was studying in Germany at a time which predates email, social media and even cell phones. I was literally disconnected from my friends, family and all that provided me comfort.

It was also during this time the first Gulf War occurred. There were protests in my German university town, I was spat upon going to class and painted on the garbage dumpster in the courtyard of my dormitory was, “Amis go home” (Amis being short for Americans). It was unsettling some days and frightening on others. On top of the usual culture shock from living overseas, I felt shaken by the anger I felt around me.

During this time, I still went to Mass on Sundays, but as I felt more and more unsettled, I went to Mass more frequently until I was going almost daily. The liturgy put me back on solid footing. The structure, the prayers, the format were all known to me. And although it took me a while to be able to fully participate in German, I could always walk up to the alter during communion, hold out my hands and say Amen. It made me feel as if I was part of something larger than myself.  

The most basic definition of liturgy is the order of corporate worship services. It is a time to join as a community in praise to God. We learn about Christ’s teaching and how to engage with our faith to deepen our relationship with God and each other.  

As I sat in Mass this past Sunday, I realized I didn’t need liturgy. I needed ministry. In the Greek language used in the New Testament, ministry always centers on acts of service to others. It is listening to the needs of others and being the hands and feet of God to attend to those needs. Christ calls us to watch over, lift up, and strengthen those around us.

While liturgy is ritualistic in nature, Pope Francis, in an apostolic letter, Desiderio Desideravi, stated that “a celebration that does not evangelize is not authentic.”  And he has cautioned against “putting the rite before what it expresses”. My interpretation, Pope Francis is telling us to not just go through the motions or follow the rules because the institutional church says so.  We need to approach liturgy with a sense of wonder and awe. We need to make it come alive and most importantly, meet the needs of the people gathered. In other words, minister through the liturgy.

Liturgy provides the comfort of the known and is grounding. Ministry helps us navigate what is unknown and provides companionship as we walk forward into uncharted waters. We need both.

I find my scale is tipping toward needing more ministry. Not only do I need more ministry for myself, but I also need to discern how God wants me to minister to others. My fledging spiritual direction practice is one path, and I wonder in these times when hatred is becoming accepted and even normalized, how can I do the opposite and show more tenderness, love, compassion, and mercy?

I may not be able to practice ministry on a grand scale, and yet, I am not powerless. I can do so on a daily basis – with the staff, my friends, my family and to every person I encounter. Kindness, mercy, grace can have ripple effects. I need to deepen my faith and trust my simple acts of ministry will spread into the larger waters and be passed along to others.

Stepping in

I’ve been on a purging, cleaning, and organizing kick. Recently, I took everything out of my kitchen cabinets, wiped down every shelf, reorganized and donated four boxes. In one of those boxes was a full set of champagne flutes and a full set of wine glasses. These glasses were nothing spectacular. Simple, plain clear, glasses. I didn’t buy them on a trip to Europe or Asia. I bought them at Target about five years after college when I moved into my first home.

I reflected on the young woman who purchased those glasses. She was on the cusp of finishing her MBA, had floated and changed jobs every 18-36 months and she wasn’t settled in her soul. Buying those glasses made her feel “grown up.” She was living on her own in a simple townhouse, had landed a full-time job, and finally had benefits. (She had gone without healthcare for 3 years. This was pre-ACA, and she was booted off her parents’ health insurance at 22. She couldn’t afford healthcare until she was a grad student and could leverage the university health care services.) Those glasses were a luxury item to her. She opened the box, washed each glass with care and poured a glass of wine to celebrate her independence. She felt she had arrived.

As I held those glasses, I realized it was time to let them go. I was no longer the naïve 20-something who walked the line between self-doubt and confidence. I didn’t need the basic glasses from Target. I have a beautiful set of Bohemian crystal champagne flutes from the Czech Republic and multiple sets of wine glasses for different types of wine. It was time to carefully box them up and pass them along to the next person. In a very Marie Kondo way, I thanked them for the joy they brought me and let them go.

In the last five years I have grown more personally and professionally than in any other period except those initial post-undergraduate days. My mind was stretched with major initiatives implemented at work and expanded responsibilities. I experienced several types of metaphorical deaths and new beginnings. And, my soul was nourished and healed through my formation as a spiritual director. I have been frustrated, grateful, angry, and filled with joy – all the feels. As I let go of those glasses and the 20-something young woman, I realized it was time for something else.

For close to 35 years, I have set an intention for each year. Unlike a resolution, my intention is a theme I carry with me through the year. It isn’t something I do, rather it is a way of being. I struggled to find my intention for 2025 – how did I want to show up this year. I cycled through many words and phrases. Then, as I was writing a year-end message to my staff, I wrote about each of us stepping in.

Stepping in isn’t the same as stepping up. To me, stepping up connotes ideas that one isn’t sufficient or good enough. Stepping in sees you as you are – wonderfully and fearfully made (Psalm 139: 14). Wonderfully translated from Hebrew means “unique” or “set apart.” Fearfully translates from Hebrew as “with great reverence, heartfelt interest, and respect” – not scared or afraid. In other words, you were molded and crafted from great love with an attention to detail so you can be distinctive, one of kind. Stepping in honors the person you are becoming and called to be. And creating space for others to do the same.

2025 will be a year of stepping in for me. What that means is yet to unfold. But through prayer, faith, and hope, I await with an open heart and mind for the graces ahead. And my prayer for my staff – and for you – is in 2025 we call can step in.

Sabbatical

When we think of sabbaticals, we may only think in terms of academics or an extended period away from a job or responsibilities, often six months to a year. I want to offer a different perspective. When we think of sabbatical simply as a time of rest, or as Webster’s dictionary states, “a break or change from a normal routine,” it opens up a world of options and possibilities.

This summer, after I finished my formation as a spiritual director, I went on a retreat. It was an extended silent retreat where I detached from the world in a lovely setting of woods, critters, and prayer. It calmed my soul and gave me time to think about, “what’s next?” I had completed this three year formation and was wondering what to do with my newly acquired certificate.

I had hoped when I emerged from the weekend I would have clarity about my next step, the next right thing to do – do I advertise, post in church bulletins, network… not unlike I would do for other jobs? What I found was the next right step, but it wasn’t what I thought. It was to go on sabbatical.

I didn’t quit my day job, but I did relax or cease to participate in other activities I had in the past. I paused singing in my church choir or other ministries. I let go of some of my community involvement work and even suspended some travel plans. Instead, I have been taking the time this fall to, “break from my normal routine.”

I created space to listen to the wisdom of the Holy Spirit in whatever way the spirit reveals itself – through friends, family, colleagues, seasons changing, my kitties or even in a movie or TV show. I don’t have any answers or clear path forward, but I am opening myself up to the possibilities.

Sitting in this time of sabbatical isn’t easy. For someone who is always thinking of what I should be doing, this is work. It is hard not to fill the space with decluttering, exercise, or my day job. Yet, I realize it is something I need to do as I continue this path of discernment and living my calling.

How do you define what a sabbatical is for you.? What is that break from your normal routine? Is it 60 minutes or 60 days? Where can you create the space from your routine to allow for the movement of the spirit. The wisdom doesn’t always come as a burning bush, more often it is the whisper. Yet, you know the stirring in your heart is real. You can feel as the prophet Isaiah said, “And your ears shall hear a word behind you: This is the way; walk in it.”

Defining Blue Collar Leadership

I’ve coined this term, Blue Collar LeadershipTM . What is Blue Collar Leadership? The term blue collar can evoke emotions, some of which are negative. When I say it, I say it with a sense of pride. My dad was a blue collar worker and so was my mom. I started out as a blue collar worker, and I suspect most of us have.

Those manual and sometimes dirty jobs are some of the most important in our society. They are the people who are hauling away our trash and cleaning our streets which helps prevent disease. They are the people picking our fruits and vegetables so we have food on our tables and they are the people offering services which require skills I don’t have the gifts to learn. Blue collar workers are the backbone of our society. When I say blue collar workers, I sit up straighter and honor their work.

Leading people who provide the day in and day out services in our world requires a different mindset than someone like me who sits in a corporate tower staring at a computer screen. And, I suggest these are the same leadership qualities we all need regardless if you are the CEO on the top floor or the driver behind the truck bringing me my latest goods from my online cart.

Blue Collar Leadership is real

Every person I have met who is in a blue collar role has a “what you see is what you get” personality. There is corporate jargon or BS. They are straight up, honest and strip away an pretense. And, they expect you to do the same.

Sometimes people equate blue collar with uneducated – which is absolutely false! They are deeply educated – maybe not with the latest trending book on business “must read” list. They are educate in real life. They read people amazingly well and see through any sugar coating. And, they expect their leaders, supervisors, boss to do the same. Just call a spade a spade.

If you are leading people who are the front lines, doing the jobs for which you don’t have the training or gifts, just lay out the truth. Don’t use weasel words or corporate speak. Just lay it out there. They will see through your BS anyway.

Blue Collar Leadership is practical

When I moved into my first home, my Dad went through and did all the safety stuff. He changed my locks, the code to my garage door opener, and checked my windows, my fuse box, and other mechanical items. As he was about to leave, he turned around and handed me a roll of duct tape and said, “You’re going to need this.”

Everything he did was practical. When I was thinking about unpacking and organizing, he took what was essential for a new home. As a person who works in corporate America, I’ve seen the same thing. People located in what has been called the “ivory tower” try to make everything fancy or put lipstick on a pig. In reality, a roll of duct tape will do.

When leading people it is most often best to take the practical approach. Don’t overcomplicate a solution. Listen to the people – the most simple, practical approach is probably the right one.

Blue Collar Leadership is community

One of the most wonderful aspects of blue collar living is freedom. That isn’t to say we experience full financial release, rather, the job is defined – 8 hours, 5 days a week… usually. As a result, blue collar people have more time to be with friends and family. There is a focus on something more lasting and important: the relationships in their lives. If that value is not honored, you won’t be respected. End of story.

If your staff comes to you and says they need to go home because their child is sick, a neighbor is stranded or a parent needs a helping hand, it is a priority for them and they will want to attend to the need. Let them and you know what, their co-workers will likely pick up the slack because that is what you do – you help.

Yes, there are those who take advantage of a situation. And I argue they are the exception not the rule. Deal with the exception, but set the example and allow the people to be people and serve one another.

Blue Collar Leadership is an honor and demands humility. The deep knowing people need leaders who are real, practical and value community. And, whether you are blue, white, purple, green or golden collared, isn’t that what we all want?

Grief and Relief

I remember the day. A. Very. Tough. Day. I signed a purchase agreement to sell my parents’ house, my childhood home. There was an inspection which had some bumps. Mom and Dad chose to spend their money on travel and experiences rather than updates to the house. I don’t blame them and will always be grateful for the sense of adventure they instilled in me.

I wasn’t too worried about selling the house or the logistical details. I had a good realtor – a very good friend from high school. And, I had a good lawyer – a long-time friend of Dad’s. How Minnesotan of us? We only used people we’ve known since the glaciers melted.

I expected to be emotional when closing day came on the house, not when I signed the purchase agreement. But after leaving my realtor’s office, I fell apart. I grabbed my phone and called my BFF. Fortunately, she was stuck in DC traffic and able to talk. How she understood me through my sobs only comes from 30+ years of friendship.

There is the cliché of grief from selling the family home, but I didn’t feel overly attached to the house itself. I think my feelings were a mix of relief and grief. Relief that this major piece of the estate puzzle was nearly complete and grief that things didn’t work out the way I thought they might.

In 1960, an immigrant German couple looking to start fresh having survived WWII purchased their home. In 1961, another couple, Frank and Marlene (my parents) purchased their home, next door to this young German couple. About ten years their senior, the German immigrants soon became friends and family to the young couple next door.

The neighbors had three daughters. Frank and Marlene had four children. The husband passed away in the late 1980s and the wife passed away in the mid-1990s. Today, their youngest daughter lives in the home with her two daughters and son-in-law. Marlene soon became a mentor and friend to her mentor’s daughter, and when Marlene died, the daughter and her kids helped out Frank – plowing his driveway, mowing his lawn, and minor home repairs. In exchange, Frank let the son-in-law park his truck in the spare spot in the driveway.

After Frank died, the neighbor’s wanted – no insisted – on maintaining the yard and helping out, without compensation. “That is what neighbors do,” they told me. I tell you these details so you can get a flavor for how intertwined our two families have been. So when neighbor’s daughter and husband said they wanted to buy the house, you understand how difficult it was for me to not accept their offer.

It would have been an easy solution to a significant stress factor in my life recently – and poetic in a way. But, longer story short, their offer was significantly less than another offer on the table. As the personal representative for the estate, I had to put on my business hat and do what was best for the estate.

I know I absolutely made the right decision, but it didn’t make it easier. I mean, shit my sister is named after the neighbor’s oldest daughter. I took German because of their influence in my life and oldest granddaughter was one of my childhood friends. Not to mention the kindness and care they showed my Dad after Mom died.

Life calls on us to sometimes make a rational decision when we want nothing more than to be irrational. The challenge for each of us to find the balance. For there is a time to allow our feelings to enter in, and direct our decisions. And, there are times when we need to trust in our mind and allow the heart to heal.

So, yes, there was grief from my selling my childhood home. And relief to know that in less than a week on the market I had 5 offers and was able to sign one that was higher than the list price. I knew in time all would be well. But it was still a very tough day. A. Very. Tough. Day.

Be interesting

Many moons ago, I was selected by my senior class to give our high school graduation address. At that time, I was filled with idealism and wonder – knowing I wanted to go out and change the world, truly make a positive impact. Therefore, it made sense for my graduation address, I talked about making a difference. First, I spoke about those who had made a difference in our lives – family, friends and our teachers. Now it was our turn. This was our time to step out into the world boldly and to make a difference.

As another graduation season is behind us and the parties come to an end, I was wondering if I would give that same speech or a version of it today. Would I challenge my classmates to make a difference? I don’t think so. Making a difference is too easy.

It isn’t much of a stretch to make a difference in the lives of those closest to us, or even in those we encounter everyday. As parents and aunts/uncles, as employees and bosses, as neighbors and friends – we step up and make someone’s day. On a small scale, we make a difference everyday – opening a door for someone, helping someone bag their groceries, offering directions when someone is lost, buying lunch for a colleague, or even allowing someone to go first at a four-way stop. Yeah, there are the few stragglers out there that carry a level of bitterness in their hearts, but they are the exception more than the rule. On an everyday scale, we easily can and do make a difference.

As social media has made us ever more connected – and disconnected – I find it more challenging to be interesting. I see daily reports of people telling us (and their 1,000 other closest friends) that they are going to bed, watching TV or are simply eating dinner. There is unhealthy debate and little to no dialogue. The character limit, limits our character. People aren’t interesting. And, if you think about, often you are scrolling because you are bored.

I admit, that I am as guilty and scrolling when I am bored. I am prone to posting a picture of the Mighty Mississippi and a glass wine while sitting on my deck. I will post the daily trivia of my life. I suspect people find it as boring as I do.

If today I could time travel back to that June day in 1988, I would not challenge people to make a difference, I would challenge them to go forth and be interesting. Don’t rush from your parent’s house, to the sorority/fraternity/dorm house to your husband’s/wife’s house. Don’t rush out to get a “real job”. Stop listening to Mom and Dad or others “shoulding” all over you – chop off those apron strings and explore! Become interesting.

Travel ON YOUR OWN (no family, no friends): Some of my most memorable experiences were when I traveled without family or friends. I met other solo travelers in Rome and for three days we were besties – eating, drinking and sight-seeing together. As is custom in Germany, when a restaurant is full and if you have an open chair at your table, people ask if they may join you. Once, in the height of the first Gulf War in 1991, I had two Iraqis sit with me. The ensuing conversation about the war was life altering. While traveling, I’ve missed trains and boats, been locked out of youth hostels, and it never fails I am asked for directions. Those experience not only helped me develop “creative problem solving,” but gave me great stories.

You don’t have to go solo, you can join a tour group as my niece did for her European adventure. She was courageous and bold to go on her own, met new friends and had once-in-a-lifetime experiences. The type of experience that won’t be done done justice via a tweet or post. Those types of life experiences are best shared over a beer at a favorite locale – and are rarely “mom and dad worthy.”

Volunteer: Be it for a couple hours, a few times a week or month, or even just once, find something you believe in and volunteer. I served meals in a soup kitchen once, only once. Yet, that one experience helped shape my thoughts and opinion on this travesty in our society. Yes, there are “slackers”, but many people are impoverished not because of lack of desire, but maybe because they had no health insurance and needed regular medicine for some type of illness, driving them to bankruptcy. Some were caught in a vicious downward spiral from an addiction (not always their own), or family history of abuse from which they needed to escape. Whatever their story, their situation had much more complexity than I might have otherwise thought. Prior to that experience, I would have thought the majority were lazy or foolish, or a bit of both. My heart and mind were opened that day.

Volunteers are always needed, so find a place to serve. Serve in a kitchen, build a house, review a resume for someone recently unemployed, shoot hoops as a Big Brother or Sister, provide water at a charity race. Listen to the stories of those you help by simply giving a few hours, a day or week. Impact a life. Change yours.

Read, read, read: How easy is it to come home, look at your social media feed and get lost for a couple hours? Or, flick on the TV and mindlessly gaze at the screen, remote in hand, flipping channels. Once I gave all that up and shut down. During Lent, it is a tradition in my faith to “give something up.” One year, I gave up TV.

I didn’t give up TV to get closer to my spouse or spend more time with my kids. I lived alone then as I do today. So, instead, I read the paper, fiction and nonfiction books. Throughout that time, was able to learn and focus – focus on what was happening around me as well as within me.

Spend time alone: And for heaven’s sake, learn to be alone. I know most of the world are extroverts and find it terrifying to even take a walk to the end of the driveway alone. I’m not saying be a hermit, but if you aren’t comfortable alone, how will others be comfortable with you? It is ok to take an evening and journal, think and reflect. Go on a retreat if you can – escape for a weekend to a lake shore if you are really brave. Whatever it is, be able to just be. Who knows, you might like more of what you uncover

than you think.

No, I don’t think I’d tell my classmates to make a difference. They will do that naturally as part of who they are. Rather, my message then and today would be: Go forth, my friends and be interesting. Spend time finding out WHO you want to be when you grow up, not what. Travel as much and as far as you can. And if you can’t do that, pick up a book and go on a vicarious adventure. Meet many people, hear their stories and develop compassion and empathy for life journeys that are vastly different than your own. Broaden your mind, fill your world with once in lifetime experiences.

Then, when you’ve done that, don’t send a post. Let’s grab a beer and swap tales. Let’s be interesting together.

Why Dad’s Last Project

After my Dad died in 2015, I became the administrator of my parents’ estate. Estate is a rather grandiose term for what they had, which was primarily a house and a small amount in a mutual fund. Mom passed away in 2011 and it was now time to liquidate their few assets and sell my childhood home. 

Dad did a lot after Mom died to get his finances in order. When any of my siblings would call or come home (they all live out of state), he would ask if there was something they had their heart on. He wanted to be the one to make decisions so I wouldn’t be caught in the middle later. Overall and compared to other friends or family, the liquidation process went smoothly. 

When people ask me what Dad did that made everything so easy for me. I told them the practical side – he consolidated assets and accounts, he made decisions about what to keep, toss or donate after Mom died, he had me and my brother on all accounts so we could easily access them after he passed away, and most importantly, he spoke to each of my siblings telling them if they didn’t want it, I was being given instructions to sell it, donate it or trash it. Not only did Dad tell me what to sell, he told me how. He said to have an auction and told me to ask my uncle for a reference. That was Dad. He thought through the details, possibilities and alternatives.

About Dad and Mom

My Dad grew up on a farm, served in the Air Force for four years and came back to Minnesota to get married. He worked in a factory for 30+ years before “retiring” and becoming a school bus driver until his early seventies. 

Dad was also a handy guy. He not only taught me how to use a hammer and nails, but showed me how to use power tools and make small home repairs. He enjoyed woodworking creating benches, chairs, cabinets, wishing wells, and so much more. Dad always had a project going. Whether it was something he would sell to friends like bird houses or something for around the house like Adirondack chairs or a spice cabinet, Dad was always creating. 

Mom was the daughter of a blacksmith. She had an associate degree in accounting and worked part-time as an office manager for a small printing company when I was growing up. She took a full-time position in retail after I started kindergarten. Although Mom used to sew many of our clothes, I think in her heart, she really liked working outside the home. She worked in the catalog department for a major department store and then moved into shipping and receiving for 25+ years before “retiring” and then working at the same school bus company as Dad where she served as an aide for bus drivers. She was never an aide on a bus Dad drove. “That is too much togetherness,” she once said. 

My parents were high school sweethearts from a small school in southern Minnesota. Their graduating class was around 50 people. Neither of my parents had fancy degrees or titles or offices with doors in large corporate towers or any of the other things commonly associated with success. Yet, when I reflect back I can easily see the beautiful and simple way in which my parents shaped their lives. 

They were quick to help others and serve in the community where they lived for 50+ years. They raised four children on “blue collar” salaries, and all of us have managed to come out fairly well-adjusted adults (not without our own battle scars of course). Three went to college and have bachelor’s and master’s degrees. One followed in Dad’s footsteps and served in the US Air Force. All of us serve in our communities, continuing that legacy from our parents. 

I am the youngest of the four. There are five years between my next siblings and me. By the time I was thirteen, it was just Dad, Mom and me. In many ways I felt like an only child. There were people who actually thought Dad and Mom had only one child since I was the only one who remained living in our home state. 

I was Daddy’s little girl through and through. I remember going to his workshop and talking to him for what seemed like hours after dinner and before bed. I confided in him my school dilemmas and boy troubles. He showed me his latest project and sometimes let me help. More often, he would just listen while I rambled. It was Dad who took me to my first movie in the theater, brought me in to get my ears pierced and showed me how to drive a manual transmission. I liked being in the yard helping Dad weed our garden or pick up sticks before he mowed the lawn. Time with my Dad was precious then and right up until he passed away. 

My Dad and Mom lived their life as an example to me, the values they instilled and how it all plays out for me today. They didn’t read or follow the advice of any authorities on parenting. They just took the small town values of a farmer’s son and a blacksmith’s daughter to how they raised us, raised me. 

Our story is far from perfect. There were deeply difficult times and several amazing memories. All the good, bad, ugly and beautiful one would expect from a family. Yet, through all of it there was practical advice, lessons learned, a commitment to serve and most of all a deep faith to ground us. 

Although Dad always had some project he was doing, in the end, I think Dad intended his last project to be me. 

The useless performance review

We are at that time of the year – mid-year reviews. When I think about managing people, especially those who might have been in the workplace for a longer period of their life or even Gen Z or Millennials, I believe more and more how antiquated performance reviews are. I’ve always thought they are simply a legal document, a CYA so if you need to lay someone off or fire them, it provides the documentation to do so. It is for those “gotcha” moments. And, I understand we live in a litigious society and we’ve evolved to this place where that documentation is needed.

When I think of my Dad in the workplace, I know he worked hard and he didn’t care about promotions and fancy titles or offices with doors. When he worked the day shift, he was home at night for dinner and would attend my softball or soccer games. When he worked the night shift, he would make me breakfast or kiss me goodbye as I came home from school as he left for work. And those days he worked graveyard, I didn’t really see him at all. I don’t think he cared about meet expectations, exceeded expectations or needs improvement. I think he just wanted to come in, do his job and get on with his life – focus on the things he really valued.

Today’s “blue collar workers” are those in the office. With technology and dynamic economy, the blue collar worker is one who works 8 – 5, with an hour for lunch, sits at a desk, manipulating spreadsheets, writing reports or creating slide decks. They are presenting, selling an idea or project, and pretend that this latest “gadget” is something they about which they are passionate – until they move to a new job and then they start drinking the kool-aid there.

In today’s dynamic workplace, I wonder what value performance reviews offer. I graduated from high school, college, completed a master’s degree, why do I continue to need to be graded – and if I do need to be graded, am I being graded on anything that really matters?

What I feel is lacking in performance reviews is motivating people to perform well based on what will matter at the end of a lifetime. Do you take a moment and congratulate someone on balancing their personal and professional commitments well? Do we celebrate when someone took a moment to step back to bring others along, to help a colleague be successful and build up the team? We measure results, but we don’t always take a moment to acknowledge and appreciate the moments, the moments when someone showed kindness, consideration and gave a person a break for having a bad day.

I am a believer the results will come when you unite a team around the common goal – and the team knows they are there for each other, that each member is more concerned about the others success then their own. So what if we switched the narrative from an individual performance review to a team review? We started to communicate that we want more unity rather than individualism? To show we really believed everyone can lead from their chair and can lead in moment?

Silencing voices

Let’s go deeper into what happens to your team when you have dog syndrome.

Recently at my performance review, my boss at the time told me to speak up more, to use my voice. She said she knows I understand the business and have great insights. She encouraged me to offer those insights in the moment. This is the same person who is rich on criticism and light on praise.

Since that point, I have a new boss and her insecurity has come out. She often feels the need to recite her credentials, her experiences and put others’ credentials and experience down in the process. It is the attitude of “I’ve done this before – bigger and better than any of you.” Her intent isn’t to malign, rather it comes from a place of needing to prove herself, let us know she is worthy of our respect and trust.

In both of these cases, the last thing I want to do is compete. I can compete in bowling or a board game. And in my youth my competitive streak ran deep on the soccer or softball field. I was fiercely determined in high school and college academically. It was well known when I set my mind to something, it got done. It was done well and I won.

That same fervor isn’t there for me in the workplace especially I now work in an organization that really does have a greater purpose – something in which I believe. That makes the work more rewarding. And, all the more reason I don’t want to compete with my colleagues or my boss.

And so when the insecurity comes out in my boss, I just let it go. I do as I am told and walk away. I go home and snuggle my furry pals. My voice is silenced by someone else’s insecurity. I don’t compete with that gaping hole in someone else’s life because I can’t fill their cup. I can listen, I can advise and coach, and I can affirm. But, I won’t compete for space or go to battle over non-substantive matters. My voice will go silent not because I am weak, but because the “care” has been driven out of me. I play the political game, then close down and move on.

I’m not alone in this behavior. How many of us have heard our friends or family say, “I just go to work and do what I’m told.” My Dad use to say that. He and many others have chosen to silence their voice rather than compete. When really, what I or anyone else wants is the thrive through collaboration, knowing our thoughts, battle scars and life learnings are valued and needed. We want to contribute, but instead ego gets in the way and we go silent.

I will never understand how some of the most insecure people I’ve met tend to also be in top leadership roles in companies. What did someone see in them because from here in the trenches, it doesn’t make sense. And some of the best people I know, whose voices have been silenced, could show up and lead from a place of practical experience, intellectual curiosity and empathy since they have been there, in the trenches. They know. They could be those blue collar leaders.

The say the cream doesn’t rise to the top and what I have described is a vicious circle – the ones who lead are the ones who silence those who could and likely should. How much are losing in not encouraging people to live to their fullest potential. How is that circle broken? I’ll let you know when I figure it out. But right now, I’m going to snuggle my fur babies.