Tag Archives: breaking rules

Breaking the Rules: Epilogue (One Year Later)

One year ago today it was Friday.  That night I ran into an ex I’d been in love with, for the first time since he’d suddenly dumped me over a year earlier.  He didn’t know I saw him, and it was a near-Perfect Running Into An Ex-Beloved Scenario (I looked hot, I was genuinely having fun, and he looked back at me when he left with his wilting date).

But even more importantly, it was the day that I resigned from my latest, and perhaps last, full-time job.  Remember?  The toxic one I told you all about last year starting with my first post, and continuing with the Breaking the Rules series?

A year later, the only thing I miss about leaving is the financial abundance and stability I left behind — temporarily (business is picking up!).  The main thing I regret is not having stuck to my guns when I said I was planning to leave — before I was offered a title change that was later rescinded, before I was disciplined for taking a courageous stand, before my Beloved Boss (and others) got to put me in a box that made them feel justified in mistreating me and finally escorting me off the property 3 days after I resigned.

Sometimes I think about writing them to explain and try to mend things, since I’m pretty sure they feel as betrayed as I do.  But then I realize I’m still angry and I have a right to be, and I’m done with always being the one to try to mend broken things and tie up loose ends.  It’s not like I attempted multiple times to explain, dialogue, and reach clarity or understanding, if not agreement.  It’s not like I gave ample opportunity for understanding to happen, even when it might have been in my best interest to selfishly fight instead.

But I’m learning life is messy, and even though I don’t like messes of any kind, sometimes the mess is perfect.

But if so, why were they honored for an achievement that was my doing, months after I left, based on data that is no longer accurate since I’ve been gone?  Why did I have to be right — that what I created is a skeleton of its former self, and the person they finally hired to replace me (10 months later) is an internal employee with zero expertise in the necessary fields, but is a reliable yes-woman and company drone who toes the party line, takes no risks, and assumes no real leadership?

I guess they finally got what they really wanted.

I hate injustice.  I hate unfairness.  And I hate most of all being right about crappy things happening.  I want to hold onto my faith in a happy ending.  I blame myself in part for making the mess that no one can seem to clean up.

But…maybe I got what I really wanted too…?

Ironic and perfect in its timing, I had lunch just yesterday with a former colleague that had had a similar role to mine in another institution, and had also been manipulated, disrespected, betrayed and abused (worse than me), culminating in her being escorted off the premises of her institution six months before I was.  She sued, won, and received a settlement…and yet over a year later, her eyes water when she tells the story.

I still wonder why we do the things we do, and why some of us stand and fight while others comply.  Last year I read a book called Beautiful Souls: Saying No, Breaking Ranks, and Heeding the Voice of Conscience in Dark Times by the talented journalist Eyal Press, which explores this very question.  He studies a Swiss police captain who refused to enforce a law barring Jewish refugees from entering his country.  He interviews a Serb who defied leaders to help Croats during the war in Yugoslavia, and profiles a member of an elite unit of the Israeli army who refuses to serve in the occupied territories during the Second Intifada.  He ends with the story of a corporate whistle blower — and a Latina immigrant — in the US securities industry of the early 2000s.

Not one of these people’s stories play out like a Hollywood movie — all of them suffer for their choices.  And yet the normalcy of their personalities, lives and choices defies Hollywood hero/ine narratives.  They weren’t rebels by nature, nor exceptional in their personality traits.  In fact, they uncynically believed in the ideals or institutions they were charged to uphold and acted accordingly, or learned something new that challenged their ideas and assumptions.  They were also in positions to experience the personal, tangible consequences of their choices firsthand.  They felt empathetic emotions for other people and almost instinctively acted to help them, but also possessed an ability to tolerate the pain of acting alone and against the group.

Such individuals defy the notion that given certain situations, following orders or rules is a natural and normal  defense for doing justice and violence, for not everyone chooses to do injustice or violence, or to stand silently by.  Some unexceptional people simply exercise the “moral imagination” we all possess, and choose differently.  Despite the morality and integrity of their actions, they are often punished for going against the group.  Part of this is because they become symbols of what others should have done.

So heroes and heroines are just like us, which means each of us can be a hero or heroine.  It’s our choices (not our superhero mutant genes) that define us and move justice.  I don’t mean to equate my experience with a toxic job to the gravity of what was faced by a Swiss general during Nazism, a Serb during the Croatian War of Independence, an IDF solider or a corporate whistleblower.  But I do identify with their almost naively believing in what could and should be and acting in alignment with those ideals, with their ability to tolerate going against the grain, and with the effect of being undetached from experiencing the consequences of my actions in a way my colleagues were not.

I just wish more could appreciate what I — and the colleague I was lunching with yesterday — have done, and follow suit.  Change and justice would be so much swifter!  But there I go again, thinking about fairness and how attainable alternate realities are.  I want to rewrite the story with a different ending, like a painful breakup.

And the separation from my job — I may have mentioned before — is like a breakup.  I still pass by the buildings, hear about the goings on (mostly bad and frustrating), and talk to people still there or who have also left.  It still gives me a little knot in my stomach.  I still feel resentment.  I want to be free.

Here’s a blurb I wrote six weeks before I left, but never published.  The first part is an email excerpt from a wise, older friend:

I, like you, believed that ‘letting go’ meant giving up.  Once I figured out that it really meant ‘joining the flow of energy’, it began to make sense and certainly became much easier than struggling against myself and the current. What has become so delightfully astonishing is that once I let go, doors just fly open, ones which either I would never have been able to open myself or even thought of approaching.  The sequencing of events just blows me away and I get so tickled at my self for doubting and being so slow to ‘wake up’. I gather you are making progress and letting the scales fall away and the sunlight come in.  What a refreshing friend you are.

I reflected:

I feel angry because I feel betrayed and let down.  My boundaries were violated, I was not treated, supported, or valued the way I wanted.  Those I trusted didn’t come through all the way.

I feel sad because things didn’t turn out the way I hoped — because I can still see how wonderful and beautiful they could be, even though they aren’t.  I feel sad to see how I am contributing to the problem now.  I feel sad to be saying goodbye to a few pleasantries and sweetnesses.

It feels like another breakup.

Indeed, the themes persist.  And yet, I now realize I can be free.  The truth is the resentment is less than it was.  The knot is looser.  They got what they wanted, but ultimately so did I.   I’m not ready or willing to give up my high hopes for the possibilities, my high expectations for humanity, or my belief in “true” love.  But like a jilted lover, I want to be wanted, even by someone I don’t want.  I want to be chased, yearned after, missed, spoken about in reverent whispers instead of tense silences.  I want to have parted as friends.

I still want to have a “Perfect Running Into An Ex-Beloved Scenario” like I did the night of June 1, 2012.  But I don’t think it’s coming.

Messy, yes.  Not what I wanted or would have chosen, yes.  Perfect…likely yes, in ways I may never even know.

I join the flow of energy…

In lak ech,

Jaxsine

Breaking the “r”ules: The Final Chapter

The moment finally arrived when I knew it was time to go.  I finally left an abusive marriage.  I finally exited the burning building, unable to see, let alone breathe.  I finally jumped out of the boiling water  That is to say — on Friday, June 1, 2012, I presented my New Boss with my resignation.  And on Tuesday, June 5th, the day of the Transition of Venus and following a new moon, she escorted me from the building with my personal effects at 11:30 a.m.

A lot happened in 12 weeks.  Let me catch you up.

We left off in the story where Beloved Boss presented me with a title change to make me stay (which by the way, I later learned came without a salary increase), then a three-day suspension for a nostril piercing after I removed the jewelry, then the withdrawal of the title change due to the discipline, then a change in reporting structure.  New Boss had been my peer and mentor, and the person ultimately in charge of the disastrous department I inherited a year ago.  I was starting to notice shortcomings in Beloved Boss and New Boss I had failed to see before, yet my faith in them — if not in the organization — remained intact.  At last writing, I believed Beloved Boss had my back and was fighting for me.

I was wrong.

So I was suspended without pay for three days the first week of April, just after being handed over to New Boss on April 1st in a hasty handoff that took even New Boss by surprise.  There was no joint meeting, no formal announcement, no clarification of expectations, no division of duties or planning.  I spent my unpaid days off cleaning, reflecting, and building my new business.  I decided not to accept the discipline unchallenged, and filed a three-page grievance letter on the last day I could file.  I laid out the timeline of events and cited the reasons I believed the suspension to be excessive and unfair: I took responsibility for my actions, others have not been disciplined at all for more serious violations (including of the same policies I had violated), I had indeed followed direct instructions, communication was unclear and inconsistent, and the additional circumstances surrounding the discipline (title change and withdrawal and change in reporting structure) were concerning.  I stated I had shared the events with select medical school and community leaders who were also concerned, and I asked to be paid for two of the three days and given the new title.

I emailed Beloved Boss to let her know I had submitted the grievance, expressing regret at any pain or disruption this would cause her, but stating I needed to do what was right for me and the future of my Office.  On the same day, I chaired a community meeting in which I let the group know of my new reporting structure.  The attendees expressed concerns about what this meant in terms of the future of the Office, my position, and the importance of our work.  I did my best to paint an optimistic picture without denying I also had questions.

Beloved Boss did not respond to my email, nor did I see her since she was no longer my boss, until two weeks later.  I thought our scheduled meeting was to provide me with a response to my grievance, and I was prepared.  I didn’t realize it was a hearing, and HR was there.

For this I was not prepared.  Thrown off guard, I collected my thoughts for a few seconds, and began by telling Beloved Boss what she meant to me.  How she had been my mentor, role model, big sister and friend.  How I didn’t want to report to anyone else in the organization  How this was painful for both of us.  I talked about how the HR process is antagonistic and dehumanizing — for everyone involved — and that although I was upset and the grievance was written as if it were directed towards her, I didn’t really know who I was upset with, or who I was grieving (the CEO? HR administration?).  She owned that it had all been her decisions.

This suprised and saddened me, given her sheepish, apologetic “they’re making me do this” demeanor in our previous conversations but I figured maybe she had to say this in front of HR.  I continued, laying out the basics of what I remembered from my grievance letter, since I hadn’t brought anything or anyone with me.  I still thought I was having a dialogue, and tried clarifying and asking questions.  The meeting turned into her grievance.  She was angry with me for calling the change in reporting a “demotion” and said going to the community was “a mistake”.  I told her I needed to get support and perspective and pointed out that at least I didn’t go within the organization — she said I had (the medical school folks).  She was angry about me making it look like she didn’t care or wasn’t committed.  I tried to explain the difference between intent and impact and that I wasn’t questioning intent, but that this decision can and will have negative impact. She was angry with me for suggesting she could have invited dialogue about my piercing instead of ignoring it or disciplining me, and she told me I should have had a dialogue with her before doing it — that there is a process.  I talked about processes not always working, and that sometimes people breaking rules is what causes change (I didn’t say this, but the Lovings just went and got married instead of spending years petitioning the courts to make interracial marriage legal, and Rosa Parks just “sat her Black ass down” [not my words] instead of heading for downtown Montgomery to lobby for equal seating on buses!).  I talked about leadership versus management and that I felt I demonstrated the former.  I didn’t tell her one of the reasons I didn’t tell her or consult with her beforehand was because I didn’t want to implicate her in a decision that was my own to make.

I could feel her, the situation, and our relationship passing through my fingers like sand that I tried to grasp as it followed gravity.  I talked about this sitation having a broader context that needed to be considered, like the context of inconsistent accountability in the organization.  She disagreed.  She said “no, this is about YOU.”  I talked about us having co-created the situation together.  She disagreed.  She said “this is on YOU.”

This was not the Beloved Boss I knew.  I don’t know why I said “thank you” when it was over and I left her office — for the last time I’d later learn.  The one thing that felt positive was her admitting that indeed the combination of the discipline, title change withdrawal and demotion “looked bad.”  But it will take me years to forget her face during that meeting — angry and wanting to yell at me, sad and close to tears, eyes full of disappointment and betrayal.  These were eyes that used to light up,  smile, laugh and bathe me in warmth.  I felt like my lover and I had just split after an ugly, avoidable quarrel.  I felt sad, disappointed, and shocked.  I hurt.  I doubted myself.  Had I done wrong after all? Was she right?

They (she) had two weeks to respond in writing to my grievance.  In the meantime, I was realizing that New Boss was not a good fit for me.  Her style was more controlling, mothering, and directive than I felt comfortable with.  I could see I was not going to be treated like a professional, and that we were going to end up having it out at some point.

I had set a goal to be out by July.  I felt that gave me enough time to be sufficiently prepared — psychologically and financially — to be out on by own.  Originally I’d been eyeing May when I told Beloved Boss in February I was planning to leave, but things had changed.  And now my goal each day was to avoid quitting.  Things had truly disintegrated.  The smoke was getting thicker and the water even hotter.

After hours on the day of the deadline, a Tuesday, I received an email from Beloved Boss requesting an extension to respond.  I said no problem and thank you.  I was heartened.  Maybe they needed extra time to do the necessary paperwork in HR to grant my request!

Or maybe they needed time for their lawyers to look things over first.  The following Monday May 14th, also after hours, I received the two-page written response.  Reading it made my abdomen tense up, my chest and arms turn icy hot, and my brain go numb.  Not only was my request denied, Beloved Boss asked me to “sincerely consider [my] ability to resume in a management capacity” given that my commitment to the organization had been affected.  She cited the fact I had communicated with people in the community about my discipline which “casted [sic] doubt on the [organization’s] commitment” to diversity, and the minutes from the aforementioned community meeting, which could be considered retaliation and grounds for future discipline.

How the hell did she get those minutes, which I had not sent out yet?

Bu that wasn’t all — the summary of the hearing, based on the notes she and the HR representative took — misconstrued my words and left out key points.  It stated I had taken no responsibility for my actions, and “continue to blame a ‘bad policy'”, which wasn’t true.

This was definitely a breakup letter.  It was definitely over.  I hurt all over again, and had a hard time grasping what was happening.  The emails and text messages flew.  I got support and indignation from my allies (“WHAT?!” and “they don’t have enough to fire you, get them to give you a nice severance package to shut you up”), but nothing soothed my heart.

On Wednesday I tried one more time.  I’d considered one colleague’s suggestion on how I could try negotiating a severance.  I didn’t believe that would fly, and the idea of me just carrying on with work if they refused me made my guts turn.  I clung to the idea that Beloved Boss had been unable to be real with me with the HR rep in our meeting — maybe she could be more of her old self if we didn’t have an audience!  Perhaps I could try a more “power with” tactic since going along with the “power over/against” process was not working nor feeling good for anyone.  I’m a mediator for Chrissake!  So I researched, then proposed we go to mediation.  I wrote her: “I feel like I’m not being heard or understood, and it seems you feel the same way.  Perhaps in a confidential, safe environment we can really talk to each other and come to some agreement on the best way to move forward.  Are you open to a mediation with me?”

She forwarded my email (to the lawyers? HR? CEO?) then responded she was “not interested in going through mediation” and said if I didn’t agree with the grievance, I could proceed to Step II.  Step II was to appeal to the CEO or HR Administrator.  I knew either would be as open and supportive as a brick wall on fire on the other side of a moat filled with demon alligators.  No thank you.

And so I pressed on, biding my time.  I contemplated getting a lawyer and realized this would take more out of me than the organization, even if I won, and I was not going to get what I really wanted — understanding and fairness.  In the meantime, Toxic Employee had filed another lengthy, detailed, crazy grievance against me for retaliation (I was still expecting her to work her full hours and follow rules).  Also, my performance evaluation date came and went.  New Boss said Beloved Boss (BB) was going to do it, and she was out that week.  New Boss said she had no doubt I would pass.  I doubted that was true.  I began to think maybe something who knew The Bigger Picture was loudly trying to tell me to leave, and maybe I should just listen.

I talked with my administrative assistant and New Boss about how ex-Beloved Boss (BB) had gotten a hold of those minutes.  My administrative assistant said New Boss (who she also supported) had asked her for them.  I explained why I was asking — that they had gotten to BB and were being used in an unhelpful way — and problem solved about how to handle the communication going forward.  When I talked to New Boss about it, it turned out she’d also wanted to discuss them with me, since she’d been listening to the tape (!?) and also had concerns.  I told her I hadn’t wanted to involved her in the situation between me and BB, but that my words were being misconstued and taken out of context.  I shared a little about my piercing and if I’m forced to choose between the organization and the community, and the organization and my integrity or reputation, I know where I stand.  I talked about BB not wanting to own her part, and that she’s angry because I’m not ashamed or afraid and I set boundaries.   I felt yucky being this honest, but it was good for me.  New Boss seemed to listen, and asked about my commitment and whether I could get on board.  I was flabbergasted that she was actually asking this question and thought I could be.  I said no, and that I would be leaving soon.  I told her that since I told her in December I’d started looking, I’d only stopped looking briefly when the title change emerged.  She thanked me for being honest.

It was Friday of the following week that I resigned and gave three weeks’ notice.  I still had not received my performance appraisal, and the retaliation grievance filed by Toxic Employee was still not resolved.  It felt like we had all been under water holding our breath in some twisted contest to see who would give, and I bobbed to the surface first.  That lungful of air felt so good to my lungs.

New Boss read the two-page letter and cried — she had seen me in my element and called me a “rockstar” just the day before.  She was most concerned about New Employee.  She was also concerned about how the community would react.  She wanted time to build a relationship with them, and to craft a message.  I asked who “community” was (I think she said local external contacts).  I agreed to her request to hold off on communicating my departure to them until she and I could meet again Tuesday morning.  I reminded her that some community folks already knew, since I’d been talking to them.  Yet again she thanked me for my honesty.

On Monday I sent an email to multiple national colleagues informing them of my imminent departure.  I included a line about having “revived my former company and will be pursuing client and projects that are a better fit for my talents.”  The email recipients included a listserv which BB was on — I knew this but didn’t think I was dong anything inappropriate.

On Tuesday I rolled into the office late after informing a crowd of 10-12 students in gray scrubs smoking not 15 feet from the entrance that they were too close to the building. I suggested that maybe no one had told them, pointed out the smoking area on yonder side of the parking lot, and quietly fumed over yet one more example of the insanity of the place.

I went into my meeting with New Boss at 9:30 with a one-and a half-page list of single spaced bullet points describing all the most crucial items to be discussed and handed off in my transition.  We talked a little about this and that for a few minutes.  I asked about how we should communicate my leaving to my staff.  She suggested I send an email that day.  I was surprised — shouldn’t we do a meeting?  No, she said, actually today would be my last day.

W … T … F???   Why wasn’t this the first thing we talked about?  Was she trying to get all the important transition information from me before telling me?

Apparently the email I’d sent the day before was “concerning” and “cast doubt on the commitment” of the organization.   Two people at the medical school were included on the listserv I’d copied.  Oh yeah.  I’d truly forgotten about that.  (But wait, aren’t medical school people considered part of the organization and not the community? That’s what BB said in my hearing.)

I did what I tend to do in these situations — freeze and caretake.  My mind started blanking out.  We decided to cancel a meeting I was supposed to chair that afternoon.  New Boss stuck her head out of her door to ask our administrative assistant to send out an email.  I thought that was odd, since I was going to do that as soon as I went to my office.  I talked about having to complete two employee performance appraisals.  She said she didn’t know what time my computer access would be shut down, so if I didn’t get to it, she’d pick up.

OMG!  I finally got it, this was happening! Now.

I asked her to put her offer to pay me through the period of my resignation in writing.  She said “you don’t trust me?”  (Really!?)  About halfway through my list she said her heart was racing (from the overwhelm) — not a good thing for a morbidly obese person.  I touched her and gently  said something I’d wanted to say to her for a long time: “You also deserve to be happy and healthy.”  Wiping away a tear, and without pausing, she said “I have two kids in college.”

Wow.

We’d agreed to meet again 1:00 to go over and visit the staff together.  As soon as I got to my office I executed Emergency Escape Plan.  I sent two emails I’d composed and been holding in “drafts” for weeks.  One to internal folks, one to external folks, saying goodbye and providing my contact information and website address (just activated the day before in fact).  On the external email I included the line about “better fit for my talents” and on the internal one I added “values” after “talents” and a line about “I find myself unable to effect meaningful change, or lead with integrity, given the organization’s current culture and priorities.”  I felt people had a right to get a personal goodbye and hear at least a tiny part of the truth. I didn’t want to leave people in the lurch or feeling abandoned.  I also composed an email to my staff, letting them know I was leaving and that the abruptness was not my preference.  I thanked them for this and that, wished them well, reminded them of the crucialness of their work and asked them to keep asking the tough questions and holding their leaders accountable.

New Boss appeared in my doorway.  I don’t remember what she said, but she was upset about the emails I’d sent (?!) — something about making her look bad.  I genuinely asked “why?” and she said “because I’m your boss!”  I threw up my hands and made a gesture like “what did you expect!?”.  She had me shut down my computer and pack up my things.  I was prepared — as part of Emergency Escape Plan I had been preparing to leave for weeks, just like I prepared to leave my ex-husband almost exactly ten years before.  Important files, my books, other effects, were already at home.  I had cleaned up my computer drives too, after those meeting minutes got to BB.  Now I just had one more bag to fill with my desk toys, and my artwork and lamps to take down.

I drove my car up; got in a few hugs to a couple bewildered staff; loaded up, handed over my badge, keys, pager, and parking permits; single-arm hugged New Boss — whose face was like a silent scream — and said “until we meet again.” I drove away, free.  By that time my computer and email access had already been revoked, and the emails I had sent had been retracted from those who hadn’t opened them yet (I have since sent a pile of messages from my personal email).  They tried to take away not only my leaving, but how I left and who I told.  But I was free.

***

I am going to be processing this story for a long time.  Even just writing it now has been difficult, and a rollercoaster of emotion.  It still doesn’t feel entirely real, and my fired-up brainstem hasn’t completely relaxed yet.  It’s almost like a dream.  I am relieved to be free of Toxic Employee and the majority of my job.  But I do miss some things.  I miss New Employee.  I miss structure.  I miss reliable money and power and my ego being stroked.  But these are things I can live without, and things that were twisting me anyway.  And New Employee and I will still be friends.

What is interesting and disturbing to me is how few people have been outraged by my story.  People who know my organization — or even work there — are sometimes slightly disappointed, but not surprised.  Others who don’t know my organization, but know the corporate world, often have their own, similar stories.  The normalcy of this is disturbing — the banality of evil rears its head once again (see post on The White Ribon 12/19/11).  I have been reading a couple wonderful books lately on power that I will be writing about soon and one of them — Beautiful Souls: Saying No, Breaking Ranks, and Heeding the Voice of Conscience in Dark Times — suggests that one thing that causes certain people to stand alone and do the “right” or “moral” thing (e.g., breaking the law and risking one’s life to save Jews during Nazism) is actually believing in the stated ideals of a nation or organization.  Perhaps it’s not naïveté or blind idealism that make me tend to believe that people and organizations and nations actually mean to be who they say they are, and hold them to that.  Maybe it’s just about integrity, and a good trait.  Perhaps belief is subversive when apathy is the norm, and numbness the new evil.  Perhaps we need more believers, and more outrage, and more feeling.

Still, I have learned a lot.  If I had it to do over again, I like to think I would have left earlier before it got ugly, or turned down the offer of the title change and stayed on a path out.  I like to think I could have done something to preserve the relationship with BB and leave on good terms.

And maybe things happened exactly the way they had to for me, and for her as well.  Who knows what repercussions this story will have on how things play out moving forward.  I hope me taking a stand pushes the organization and change forward, raises important questions, or inspires others to be better, happier, healthier, and more alive.

I learned that me taking a stand pushed some people away, and others towards me.  I learned I was not alone. I learned I was loved, respected, admired and appreciated even more than I knew.  I learned that when the warning signs start to appear, I should listen instead of bargaining and doubting myself.  I learned that when I’m not listening to the Universe, she starts to speak louder, then shouts and hits me with a 2×4 until I get it.   I learned that I really can’t avoid messes if I’m going to be true to myself more.  I learned I still have some control issues and self love issues to work on.  I learned I need to get in better touch with my anger, sooner.

I learned that in a hierarchical organization, the culture really is driven, and the tone set, by those above.  Despite my insistence on the power of individual agency, ultimately this is the truth.  In an organization headed by a numbers man who is devoutly Catholic, lacking in emotional intelligence, fearful and intolerant of anything perceived as criticism, this orientation trickles down.  New Boss was protecting BB who was protecting him.  Both were afraid and trying to protect their jobs.   BB was copying his pattern of maintaining a small, close inner circle of trusted and protected people who could do no wrong until their “loyalty” came into question — when their toes started pulling back from the party line.  Because I was in BB’s inner circle (of which I was not aware), I was seen as even more of a traitor and punished even more harshly than someone not as close or trusted — like White allies during Civil Rights and light skinned “half breeds” in Indian boarding schools.

Also, I’ve realized that in a hierarchical “power over” institution, those above are always under someone else, with Almighty God being the Ultimate Boss.  Fear, compliance and control are the drivers.  And in a “power over” paradigm all manifestations of power are interpreted through that lense.  So those who exercise other forms of power — like “power with”” or power within”– are not recognized as such, but as players in a “power over” game trying to win and dominate others.  In making decisions true to myself, being honest, and raising questions, I was perceived as trying to assert “power over” and therefore neutralized as a threat instead of being recognized and engaged.

But more on power later.

While this is the end of this particular saga, I don’t know that I’m quite a Jedi knight.  🙂   But I am happily “single” and safe.  I swim in healthy, comfortable water.  And I can breathe again.  Hallelujah.

What came up for you as you read this post?  Insights or feedback?

Ometéotl!

~Jaxsine~

She (finally) brought me flowers

Three weeks ago at work, I was offered something I’d asked for more than once over the last several months.  A new title.

This may seem like a minor detail, but the truth is it matters to me.  It matters to me because I have been doing a job equivalent to those with the higher title in my organization.  It matters to me because I deserve it.  It matters to me because I don’t want to be one more woman who sells herself short or accepts less than she has earned in the workplace.  And it matters to me because titles make a difference in my organization.  I wish it weren’t true, but it is, and a higher title that better reflects the reach and importance of what I do is one more way to lend legitimacy to the Office I have created.

But it was bittersweet.  I had asked my Beloved Boss for this title before, making it clear I didn’t need or want a raise in pay, but that the title meant a lot to me.  And she finally offered it to me during the same meeting where I explained about my piercing and apologized for how I realized my choice had affected her (see Breaking the rules — Part III post on 2/27/12).  She said the title change “had finally come through” and that she could offer it to me if I stayed.  If I didn’t stay, I would keep my current title and the job would be posted in the new title for the next person.

WTF.

I’m not very good in interpersonal crises.  When it comes to an earthquake, natural disaster, or other physical threat, you definitely want me around with my level head, clear thinking and assertive responses.  But when I am confronted with a relational problem, I usually either go into empathize-with-the-other mode, or I freeze.

So in the moment I said I understood and would think about it, but later it didn’t make sense.  Why, as one of the most powerful people in the organization, “couldn’t” she change my title if I still planned to leave?  Why did it “finally” come through, right after I said I was leaving and was being called on the carpet for having a nose piercing?

And why did my HR recruiter, when I spoke to her later by phone about something else, express sympathy about me leaving?  I was suprised and alarmed.  I asked how she knew, and she said “I work in HR.”

WTF?

It started to dawn on me that my Beloved Boss might not have been entirely honest with me.  My new title hadn’t suddenly come through, she had pushed it through to keep me.  And she was using the one thing I wanted to entice me to stay.

So the fact I am unhappy and the job isn’t a fit don’t matter.  The two conversations I had with her last fall about getting close to reaching my limits and needing help hadn’t mattered.  She had waited until I was done and walking out the door to try and retain me.  And she offered me money and power instead of a solution to the problem.

Not only that, she also told me that she would likely be handing me off to one of her other reports — one of my peers (but with an even higher title than me) who had been my mentor.  She just couldn’t manage with some new responsibilities she had been given from higher ups, and had to delegate.  Soon-to-be New Boss is one of the few people I respect and trust, but also one of the most overwhelmed and overworked people in the organization, and the person who had been ultimately responsible for the (severely neglected and chaotic) department I had inherited last summer.

So one hand giveth and the other taketh away.  I was offered the title I always wanted on a condition of staying in a job I had made clear was a bad fit and making me miserable and ill.  And I was being told I would no longer report to my Beloved Boss, who was one of the three things I liked about my job, and she knew it.

So now I had a dilemma.  Do I stick with my integrity and leave anyway?  Or do I stay when I don’t want to, to get what I wanted and deserved?  Stewing over this dichotomy as I got into the shower that night, I asked myself indignantly, “How would they know, if I said I’m staying, that I actually will?  I could be lying to them to get what I want!”  And then I realized this was a third option.

I was troubled that I even considered this to be a viable possibility.  One part of me counseled me to rise above, to take the high road, to focus on the spiritual and what’s truly important in life — getting out despite what I might lose in the process.  It encouraged me to let the petty issue of the title go.  But another part of me — the freedom fighter and suffragette — reminded me that countless oppressed people have used that approach to accept defeat and less than they earned, and feel like good, righteous people for doing so.

Oh HELL to the no!!

So I thought about what I could do and say to get what I wanted and earned, yet stay in integrity.  I wasn’t willing to compromise integrity; I don’t believe in selling my soul to play The Game.  I wondered about a middle way — a third option besides “OK I’ll take it and stay — you win” or “take this job and shove it — I win, your loss … suckas!”?

As before, I enjoyed the brainstorming help of a smart, trusted friend and came up with a plan.  The following week I met with my Beloved Boss and told her I’d thought about it, and I appreciated the offer and confidence the organization had in me.  I talked about how this title will make a difference for the program, regardless of who has it.  I said I didn’t know how I would feel moving forward, but that I had faith the new title and the hiring of a supervisor to help me out would make a difference.  I said I could say for sure that I am willing to give it a try, and that having the new title would keep me longer than I would have stayed without it.  If that was acceptable to her, than I would accept.

She said that was acceptable.  She said one never knows, and I would have to do what was in my heart.  She was glad I was staying.

She brought me flowers, and I put them in water in a vase.  I wonder how long they’ll last.

***

POST SCRIPT

Since I originally wrote this piece a few days ago, I have been presented with a written proposal to suspend me for three days without pay because of the nostril piercing.  (When I accepted the offer of the new title, I was told no disciplinary action would be taken if I were leaving, but since I was staying, a verbal warning would suffice.)  Oh … and the new title is being withheld for now, pending the outcome of the proposed disciplinary action.  Leaders who are being disciplined should not be rewarded, of course.

Beloved Boss is fighting for me and has my back on this one, but … the flowers are wilting …

In lak ech,

~Jaxsine~

Breaking the rules – Part III (The Empire Strikes Back?)

Those of you who are fellow card-carrying lifelong diehard Star Wars fans might point out that The Empire Strikes Back was actually the second (well, really the fifth!) Star Wars movie in the first trilogy and not the third, and you would be correct.  So why, you ask, would I name the third installment of this particular saga after the second installment of said Star Wars saga?  Answer: the title of this post is appropriate given what has transpired since Part II, and because in the trilogy formula, the second act is usually the darkest and most conflicted, as is this one.

Just days after I wrote Part II, and perhaps even because of the energy behind that post – or in spite of it – I got my first message that my piercing had been noticed and that I was, well, on notice.  After climbing the stairs and reaching the top of the parking structure on my way out that afternoon, I ran into one of my main allies in HR.  She and I had exchanged friendly words in another parking structure the week before, nose jewelry in full view, so I didn’t expect anything different this time.  As we parted, however, she mentioned — almost as an afterthought, and almost apologetically — that she had noticed my nose piercing, that it’s against policy, and if someone complained she would have to bring it to my boss.

I’m not sure what she expected (defensiveness? indignance?) but I politely said I understood, I realized it was against policy, and I thanked her for saying something.  Her stock rose in my personal Market of Integrity.  Finally someone was doing their job.  Finally someone had the guts to speak up!

But … what was this about “if” someone complained?  So I get to break the rules as long as no one complains about it?  I’m OK as long as I get away with it?

Apparently so, because a couple days later — again as almost an afterthought at the end of our regular hour-long weekly meeting — my boss mentioned that she got an “anonymous complaint” about my nose piercing, and that she said she’d address it.  There was no request to remove it, no statement of consequences and no question, so I assumed this “addressing” was the equivalent of saying “I see you.”

The following day in a follow up meeting I made the brave, premeditated move of telling my boss I was planning to leave the organization, citing unhappiness, lack of fit, and a desire to return to doing work that truly expresses my gifts — even perhaps as a contractor for the organization.  I told her I wasn’t giving notice yet, and that I wanted to be honest with her because our relationship is very important to me.  I told her it was hard for me to admit how I was feeling, since I didn’t want to disappoint or abandon her.  I said I intended to not leave my department in disarray.  It felt like a good meeting.  She heard me, said she knows I’m loyal, and just asked me not to leave things in chaos.  That was a hard day of three very honest meetings and lots of boundary setting.  It was epic.

You see, my boss is one of the three things I like about my job.  And I love this woman as a person — she is the one individual I would want to report to in my organization and one of the few I not only admire and respect, but like.

The following week, on Valentines Day, we had our regular weekly one-on-one.  It was a normal meeting, mostly me going over all my projects.   I followed up later that day with an email regarding two things I forgot, and in her reply my boss mentioned she had gotten another inquiry about my piercing and that I needed to remove it as I was not in compliance with policy.

So now we were in the Realm of Direct Communication and Danger of Defiance Zone.  What to do?

A day later I responded that I appreciated her saying something, but that there was a story behind it I wanted to explain.  I said I would not be asking for special treatment or to be allowed an exception to the policy.  I asked — is that OK?  She wrote back that several people were now commenting and questioning her, and that we could talk, but that I had to remove it that day or face disciplinary action.

Whoa.  I realized I had not expected that reaction, nor to face that kind of clear dilemma.  I spent that day, and the next, sort of out-of-body at work, but with facial jewelry intact.  Then the weekend came.

I realized I needed help figuring out what to do.  Do I back down on my commitment?  Sell out? Submit to oppression and injustice?  Defy my beloved boss? Risk burning bridges?  Make a big deal?

I was also angry and suspicious that the hammer had come down on me right after saying I was unhappy and planning to leave.  Could it be possible that my boss was pulling tightly on my reins just because I was trying to break free?

In seeking wise counsel from trusted friends (thank God(dess) for such gifts as friends!) I learned two things.  One, my Beloved Boss is human, and as a human she probably — albeit subconsciously — was sad and upset I was leaving and found it easier to deal with the grief and loss (after all I have been her ally and confidant too) by getting angry with me and exerting her authority.  After all, screaming “FINE!  Go on and go, you %&*$-ing #^*$!” after your loved one as they exit the house with packed bags in hand feels a lot better and more powerful than bursting into tears and facing the silent, ambiguous emptiness left in their wake.

Two, I learned I had been selfish.  I hadn’t fully played out the scenario of her reaction to the piercing in my mind, but I had assumed it would consist of her noticing and asking me about it goodnaturedly, maybe teasingly telling me I was going to have to take it out, me explaining my reasons and her totally getting it, then negotiating some resolution with me or asking me to take it out, citing some really good reason I had never thought of before.  OR!  Maybe she would even join me in my commitment, let it go, and tell the concerned parties to go focus on more important things like ensuring our patients get the safest, quickest, most respectful care imaginable, and keeping stellar employees happy and feeling supported.

What I had missed is that my Beloved Boss likely sees herself as constrained in her role as I do, if not more.  Allowing me to walk around with a tiny jewel on the side of my nose undermines her authority.  It implies that either I enjoy her favoritism, or that she is powerless to get me to follow The Rules.  I had not considered that my actions would put her in an awkward position that hurt her credibility — credibility I respected and had worked hard to protect.

So I went back to the studio and got a clear glass retainer put in, which is actually healing a lot better now than the jewelry was.  I didn’t do it because I backed down from my commitment, or because I am weak.  I didn’t do it out of fear.  I did it out of love — love for my Beloved Boss and what she represents, as well as who she is.  I did it out of respect for how difficult her job must be, and how she will be the one left behind when I leave, continuing the lonely fight to do the right thing.

One of my friends also pointed out that this decision could also be about me letting go of being right.  I had never thought of myself as insisting on being right since I’m the type of person who meets disagreement or conflict with dialogue and a sincere attempt to come to a mutually beneficial solution.  However, I hadn’t considered my righteous commitment to an ideal or principle despite all consequences as having undertones of insisting on being right or superior.

The following week at our meeting my boss and I had a candid conversation.  Indeed, she had been annoyed with me.  I was surprised to hear it’s awkward for her to bring up dress code issues with staff (I assumed this would have been old hat for someone who started out as a front line staff person and supervisor).  I suspect she felt extra hurt it was me — of all people — she had to address this with.  I’m the Teacher’s Pet after all, so my apparent defiance must have really stung.  I realized I have no idea what kind of pressures and challenges to her authority she must face, and how I put that in jeopardy.

She heard my reasons (I gave the main ones), listened to my explanation (no intention to be defiant of her initial “addressing it”) and accepted my apology.  I don’t think she fully understands why I did it — after all, she has spent nearly 30 years in the organization and has grown up in the culture — but I hope she still believes I’m loyal, at least to her.

I suppose this is a part of pushing the envelope and breaking rules — sometimes it doesn’t have an effect on anyone but us.  It can sometimes be as much about our own psychological development and spiritual awakening as anyone else’s.  Through this process, I certainly have learned a lot more about people and this organization — as well as reminders about why it doesn’t work for me.  Most people really don’t think on the level of metaphors and philosophy and ethics and big principles.  It’s really about relationships — and safety.  And that’s not a bad thing.

Ultimately then, I have gone through another trial, grown, and come back to share my new knowledge.  So perhaps a more apt title for this post after all would have been … Return of the Jedi?  🙂

In Lak Ech … paz, amor y sabiduria

Jaxsine

Breaking the rules – Part II

Today it’s been a month, and you may be wondering — what happened with my first daring foray into being authentic and breaking some rules?

Well, nothing.

I’ve been at work 19 days since I got my nose pierced, a clear violation of the dress code at work, especially for management.  And only TWO people have said anything.  They both said something as soon as they saw me for the first time since the holidays — one was curious and surprised, the other complimentary.  But neither my boss, nor an HR director I met with one-on-one, nor any of my immediate peers, nor my direct reports, have said a thing.

What does this mean?  I’m really not sure.  I can tell most people notice it, but their faces don’t change, nor do they seem uncomfortable.  Maybe they’re really not seeing it.  Maybe they think (as somone at the piercing studio suggested) I always had it.

I think what is more likely is they don’t know what to say, they are afraid to say anything (?), or they have more important things to worry about.  Regardless of the reason, I feel a mix of relief and disappointment.  I’m not disappointed because I’m sad to have missed a chance to make a point or take some big, loud stance.  I’m disappointed because I expected more.  I expected accountability — at least a question — especially from my boss.  That’s what I would have done if someone who reported to me showed up with a nose piercing: “Hey, I see you got some new jewelry there.  Tell me about that?”   Then I would have said something about taking it out at work or (now that I have one) saying it’s against policy but I’m not going to make it an issue.  If the person were a colleague, I would have said something appreciative or at least acknowledging, depending on the person.  Then I might have asked my boss about what I’d seen (“so, did the policy change?”), or gone out and gotten one myself.  🙂

Right now, I interpret the silence as another symptom of dysfunction in the organization.  If we are unable, unwilling, or too stressed out to notice the little things that aren’t right — much less hold each other accountable — then it’s no wonder we have a general lack of consistent accountability and a culture that has streaks of anger, injustice, and righteous entitlement.

It’s odd — even though I didn’t get the piercing to make a point or be a rebel (nor is being a rebel my M.O.), I have found myself oddly emboldened by the lack of reaction.  It almost makes me want to push envelopes I had no intention of signing, sealing and delivering in the first place.  It gives me insight into why (and how) other folks might make such envelope pushing their way of work life, or feel it’s their right to do so.  There are fundamental problems in any system when the line of accountability is blurry, moves around or appears so far down the field that once someone finally calls foul, the foul lacks credibility and evokes indignance or disrespect from the violator.  When certain policies aren’t taken seriously, how do people know which ones are?  I’m not advocating for rigid, consistent application of the letter of all laws, but at least a noticing and dialoguing when people violate  agreements that we implicity or explicitly make with each other.

So today I did Rule Breaking Part II, but not because of the lack of reaction, mind you, this was already part of the plan.  Today, 2-4-12 at age 42 I got my 4th tattoo at 4:00 by a woman with a four-letter name (!).  She did a beautiful job and it didn’t hurt nearly as much as the other three.  I was nervous about this one, but I love it.

And I am not going to cover it up at work when summer comes.

Today is Imbolc — the first day of spring.  It is a day of new life, of new green tendrils poking up through the hard, frozen, sleeping earth.  And as of today I wear another external symbol of my commitment to what is real, what is authentic, and what is important.

In lack ech,

Jaxsine

Breaking the rules

Five days ago I broke the rules.  I got my nose pierced.  Aside from the fact that I am over 40 — and although this is not my first non-ear piercing — this is a bold and daring move.  You see, my workplace has a policy against facial piercings.

Employees who already have piercings are supposed to cover them or wear transparent spacers.  But you can’t do this when you just got pierced.  Besides, most of the folks who have nose piercings in my organization don’t cover them or wear spacers.

But none of them are management.

So why would I do such a rash thing?  Am I, as one of my friends asked, trying to get fired?

No, I’m not, and I did not act impulsively.   It’s just that the policy is a rule–with a lowercase “r”.   Strangely, in three days back at work, only ONE person has said anything about my new facial jewelry or even seemed to notice — my assistant.  To me, this speaks volumes about our organizational culture.

So if I am ever asked by my boss, HR, or anyone who really wants to know, here are my reasons, in loose order of priority:

  1. I really wanted to do it (it’s very cute, sexy, and feels good to me!).
  2. I couldn’t think of a good reason not to do it that wasn’t fear-based, and I am resolved to not make fear-based decisions.
  3. I can’t agree to follow a rule that is exclusive, prejudicial, does not harm people, and in fact creates a false separation between me and the people we serve by implying some kind of superiority based on appearance.  This separation actually impedes my ability to do my job well.
  4. It’s up to us in power to push the envelope — to use our power to set new examples and effect change.  New behaviors come before new rules, and setting new, evolved standards is one obligation of leadership.  (Did policies and expectations about women not wearing pants to work change first, or did women just start wearing pants and the rules changed?  How about the laws against interracial marriage? Those rules changed because interracial couples took tremendous risks and went to court to challenge them.)
  5. I don’t agree to follow a rule that implies I am not OK, or should be ashamed of myself or how I look.
  6. Hyperfocusing on these sorts of superficial rules distracts us from the real problems in our organization/world — like how we treat each other and how happy and fulfilled we are.  Just because a person fits some sort of corporate mold of appearance does not necessarily mean she is kind, hard working, or customer-oriented.  The latter is what we should be more concerned with.
  7. I believe in following Rules about being my authentic Self, with integrity.  My piercing is one way I am true to this Rule, and it serves as a visible reminder for me of this commitment.
  8. My workplace and I are in a dysfunctional relationship in which I (mostly) give and it (mostly) takes.  This is one way to take some more (instead of waiting to be given to) or to give less.  It is one way to create more joy where it is lacking and to be more myself where I haven’t been.
  9. As long as all are not held to this rule equally, and not held accountable for much worse, I cannot agree to comply.
  10. Being a good girl and a chronic rule follower hasn’t gotten me what I want and need–at work, or anywhere else for that matter! (Have you seen the bumper sticker “well-behaved women rarely make history”…?)
  11. Doing this allows me to be more in touch with my Shadow Self, which is good for me and the world.  (Also see #10. 🙂 )
  12. I am willing to accept the consequences of my decision.

I can’t always change injustice, but I can choose whether or not to participate in an unjust system.

I can’t always change the rules, but I can choose not to comply with them.  This also embues any choice I make to comply with more integrity and power.

I can’t always inject reason into insanity, but I can choose to be sane.

I can’t always make people like, know, or respect me — but I can always know, like, and respect myself.

What rules are you willing to break to create change in your life and the world? What Rules are you truly committed to?

Ometeotl … In Lak Ech…

Jaxsine