Photo by Stephan Seeber.
OK 2019, Let’s Do This
By the time you read this, it’ll be the first working day of 2019 for most folks. It’ll also be the first day back in the office after some time away. Time away can cut a couple of ways.
Some of us are excited and can’t wait to get back to it. Some of us are dreading work and regretting that one quick peek we took at our inbox. Others are picking up the job search they put on pause over the holidays.
Last year, our little kid was learning about emotions at preschool. They had a chart of emotions (happy, sad, excited, sleepy, etc) and they’d have the kids put their name on whatever emotion they were feeling. It was a cute and effective way to get young kids to talk about their feelings.
At home, it meant that when our little was having a tantrum, she’d look up from the floor, clear-eyed, and say “Put me on sad.”
Apparently, you’re not supposed to laugh.
And then one day, our little figured out you could be on more than one emotion at a time. She would be moments before sleep and let out a big yawn. She’d look up and say “Put me on happy. Put me on sleepy.”
This is how our house feels heading into 2019. One emotion doesn’t cover it. Excited to get back to the best work we’ve ever done in our lives. Exhausted from a week of family visits, potty training, and the tail end of kid germs carried home just in time for winter break. Grateful for all that was in the year that past. And hopeful for all that may be in the new year.
Whatever emotions you’re on today, welcome back.
— Melissa & Johnathan
What Melissa’s Reading
It’s Time to Rethink How You Find a Mentor at Work
I accidented into my first mentors. I was interning at a big, global PR agency and they hosted these “brainstorm sessions” on Friday afternoons. I don’t remember much brainstorming but I do remember my male colleagues bringing in huge boxes full of beer bottles.
I was 18. I couldn’t legally buy beer for several more years. I was terrified that someone would ask me why I wasn’t drinking and that I’d get teased mercilessly about my age. Worse – I thought – if my colleagues found out I was only 18, they’d take me off the interesting accounts and cool projects.
So I hung out in the corner, as far away from the alcohol as I could in hopes that no one would notice me. I would grab a glass of water and try to be invisible. In that far corner of the room, there was also a group of very senior men. They all had white hair. And they were all drinking water, too.
And while it wasn’t clear to me then, these men had been standing in the corner drinking water together for many years. They were each other’s supports in DC’s heavy-drinking agency culture. I broke a social norm – not on purpose, mostly out of desperation. And I was probably the youngest person ever to venture over to that side of the room.
But conversation comes easily, especially to PR folks. So we talked about work and agency life and which accounts I was on and what I was learning in school. Two of these men turned out to be in my reporting chain but way, way up. They put my name forward for key projects. They let me shadow cool client meetings. They sent me to California on my very first business trip to staff a press conference for Vint Cerf.
They changed the course of my career.
There’s an unending stream of Medium think pieces on the importance of finding good mentors. And it’s become very trendy to talk about the merits of sponsorship over mentorship. But most of these pieces lack concrete advice on how to secure a mentor and what to do if the person actually agrees to meet with you.
I liked this piece because it has eminently practical career advice for any phase of your career – from first job on up to first executive role.
What Johnathan’s Reading
360 Degree Feedback is Idiotic
I am glad this article exists in the world, even if I don’t agree with it fully. What she gets right is that 360 feedback is usually an awful experience. This is especially true when it’s inflicted on you as part of a process, but it’s often true when you ask for it, too.
If you’ve never had the pleasure, a 360 is a process to gather up feedback from your peers, direct reports, and management. Sometimes this is private for you, often your boss and HR get a peek. As Liz points out in the article, the odds of this producing good results are low. Good feedback is specific, and timely, and gives you an opportunity to ask questions and understand. 360s optimize for none of these things. They are anonymous and unaccountable.
In a high-functioning organization I’m sure your colleagues will try to be helpful despite the constraints. But those are also the places where you’d just get the feedback directly. You’d have built the psychological safety in your teams to be able to deliver it. And you’d have built the personal trust needed to seek it.
Most organizations that deploy 360s use them because they have none of that other stuff. Because this is the only way to gather honest feedback. What do you imagine the feedback sounds like when people have had no other outlet for months? For years? When they haven’t felt safe to just bring these things to people directly? It’s even more abusive than you would imagine. I’ve seen many people in tears after a 360, clearly written for their bosses’ eyes, rips them to shreds.
So I agree with Liz. Any organization thinking about a 360 process should ask themselves some hard questions. What gap is this process supposed to fill? And why does that gap exist?
There are only two reasons I can’t endorse the post, despite that broad agreement. The first is that I’ve seen leaders transform when a hard 360 broke through their denial and self-perception. Leaders who weren’t hearing what they needed to until it piled up in front of them. And I’m not sure how else to have gotten that breakthrough to happen. In the cases where I saw it happen, though, we had trained coaches and an entire support program built around it. So at best I can say they are a dangerous tool only to be wielded by experts.
And as for the second reason…
“Idiotic” is ableist and a Forbes writer (or her headline writer) should know better. I get that it can be hard to keep up with how much of our language is based on awfulness. But that’s the gig.
Whenever I catch myself using ableist language in my writing, it’s a direct improvement to delete it and write what I actually mean. Ableism, on top of being crappy to your fellow humans, is clichéd, sloppy writing. I’m trying to cut it out and I hope Liz is, too.
