Do Your Metrics Manage Meaning?

Hello from Arizona! I’m here for two weeks, the guest of the marvelous Kathie Lingle, executive director of the Alliance for Work-Life Progress. It’s a sort of cowgirl’s holiday. While I’m thoroughly enjoying the change of scenery, I am here to work. My mission: to research a speech I’m giving to the Arizona SHRM state council's annual convention in September (you are coming, aren’t you?). My topic is one of my favorites -- Sustain Your Flame! Keep Alive the Mission and Meaning of Your HR Career. And I’m here to interview HR folks who love their work in Arizona. I hope to post their interviews and photos on a specially created website.

My plan has been to fill my days with interviews and between interviews take photos of typical Arizona scenes, like sunset vistas, dusty cowboy boots, bucking broncos and saguaro cacti. But you know what? At the risk of overstating the obvious, it’s just too darn hot to get out of the car. (At 111 degrees, it just stops being a novelty and starts getting really annoying, know what I mean?)

Okay, so this is the real reason why I’m writing today: On my cell phone’s call log this morning there are four entries of the same phone number that I tried calling just seconds apart from each other. No I’m not a stalker. This is the phone number to a way schmancy new cardiac hospital where one of my dearest friends had open-heart surgery late this past week. Why did I call this hospital four times this morning to find out how she’s doing? Well, actually, that’s exactly what I’d like to know. More specifically, what I’d like to know is why did I have to call this hospital four times?

Call #1: After dutifully pressing 3 for patient update, and then dutifully waiting for my call to be taken in the order in which it was received, I heard the receiver pick up on their end and then get hung up.

Call #2: I got through to an operator who heard that I wanted a patient update (that was Press 3 after all), transferred me with no fanfare to the cardiac unit, which rapidly launched an outgoing message saying that their office is closed for the weekend.

Call #3: See call Call #1.

Call #4: I got a different operator, explained to her that I wanted to get a patient update but when I was transferred to the cardiac unit, well, finish reading Call #2.

Operator: “Their office is closed on the weekends.” I could practically see her drowsily reaching for the transfer button so I responded quickly.

Me: “I just want to get a patient update. Isn’t this the right number for that information?”

Me in my head: “Oh, I’m sorry, am I keeping you awake?”

Operator (after hearing the patient’s name, my name, and my relationship with her): “She’s in ICU right now.”

Which is, actually, great news. That means things are going as they should be. (Whoever thought that hearing that a friend is in ICU would be good news? Well, it is.)

I thanked her for her information and she seemed oddly surprised and pleased that I would take that extra second to thank her. Which surprised but didn’t please me.

I get that working at anything based on repetition and anonymity can be a real drag. Throw in the fact that you’re timed for the average amount of time you take to push the customer along (which might account for the deliberate hang-ups), and the probability of joy in the workplace sinks even lower. And I suppose that it’s no picnic talking to callers who are on the verge of freaking out, worrying about their beloved. But I’m sure that holding in our hearts and minds the meaning behind the work we do has got to be inspiring at least a little bit.

You probably know the story of the bricklayer who knows the difference between building a wall and building a cathedral (if you don’t, Google it, it’s as common as the sand dollar story). So I won’t slow this blog down by retelling it.

But I would like to invite managers to take a fresh look at how they talk about the job expectations of their direct reports. If you’re measuring performance by accuracy, by speed, by completion of the encounter with the customer, you’re missing a huge piece of the story.

Are you also talking about the meaning behind every job that you’re in charge of? Do your people know how their job soothes the human condition? (Unless we’re talking paid assassins and drug dealers, there’s an essential human meaning behind every job – at least there can be.)

Do you even know what the meaning is behind the jobs that you’re responsible for?

This isn’t rocket science or calculus. There only three reasons why people enter into a transaction with each other:

• To relieve pain
• To restore hope
• To bring beauty into the world

In my particular case, my need to transact with the call center this morning was to relieve pain – to be reassured that my dear friend what resting comfortably right where she should be. The pain was minor, to be sure, especially when compared with the anxious needs of other people calling that number this morning. I can only imagine what it must have been like to call inquiring about a loved one who had suffered a coronary, for instance, and have to call back three more times just to get basic information. That would be enough to turn me into Shirley MacLaine in Terms of Endearment.

But these people treated my call as though I was asking for data about my Social Security account on a Sunday morning.

Every job has its tedium, to be sure. But it’s never tedious for the customer – no matter whether we’re talking ICU status of a dear friend or calling our credit card company about frequent flier miles. There’s meaning in every transaction that we do.

If you have a cadre of sleepy looking customer service folks, it’s time to revisit with them the meaning behind the work they do. The ones who wake up and take personal responsibility for their customers are the ones you want to hang on to.

The ones who don’t? Well. Maybe it’s naptime.

Confidential to Management-Level Job Seekers: How to Join the 60% Club

Unless you’re one of those people who enjoy beating their heads against a wall, it’s rarely any fun to be in the job market. But if you’re looking for a job in the leadership levels, it’s even worse. Reason: Chances are almost 50/50 that you’ll be looking for another job before the year is out. For some reason, new hires in leadership roles have an abysmal success record. And, even though the cost of recruiting, hiring, losing people of your level – and starting the cycle all over again – is the most expensive of all the open positions, employers seem to take this hard knock as a cost of doing business.

What a terrible waste of money, resources, precious time for all concerned. Especially you, if you’re the one out on the street in a few months’ time. The good news is that the power is in your hands. You can say, “This cycle of frustration stops with me.” But that means that you have to take control of the interview (hey! Your first leadership assignment in this organization) and be willing to be the one to decide whether you might not be the best culture match (hey! Your second leadership assignment in this organization).

Here’s the problem: Even though companies are becoming increasingly aware of the real importance and impact their culture and values have on engaging the discretionary effort of all their employees, for most companies that awareness isn’t showing up in the kind of leaders they hire from the outside. When it comes to hiring people leaders, employers can be like fish. They’ll leap out of the water for anything bright and shiny, without first taking into very serious consideration what lurks between the feathers and twirly, swirly, glittering things. For fish, of course, the bad news is that there’s usually a sharp hook buried inside all that attraction. But for employers, they don’t discover that buried inside that bright and shiny resume is a set of behaviors that could destroy their carefully cultivated culture.

I’m not implying, of course, that you’ve got a sharp hook imbedded in your resume or personality, but let’s face it, we’ve all got hooks – a branded story of who we are, what we can offer the employer, our set of leadership beliefs, the market performance of our previous employer while we were at the helm. The problem is that if you are luring the wrong employers, there’s going to be a lot of pain, and actually you’re going to be among the 40%+ of new management candidates who lose their jobs before they’ve really had the chance to prove themselves.

I’m torturing this metaphor; I guess it’s time to get on with my point.

The more successful you were at your previous company or the greater the cachet of your company (especially as regards its reputation for an engaged culture), the greater the likelihood that you’re going to land in a new job that could make you miserable. Like it or not, your new employer isn’t just hiring you, they’re hiring where you’ve been. If you’ve been with a successful company that performed supremely in your marketplace and enjoyed a cadre of over-the-top dedicated employees, your new employer is going to want to have some of that mojo. And, because you’ve seen it first-hand and from within, they reason, you’re just the one to give it to them. They’re so invested in asking the questions that will result in a job offer and acceptance that they tend to avoid those questions that could reveal you to be a bad culture fit.

You’ve got to do that piece of the dirty work. Sorry to have to break it to you, but that’s just the way it is. The truth will come out eventually, and believe me, you’re being back out on the street is going to be a lot more painful for you than it will be for them.

During the job interview itself, go deep into questions about the company culture. This is the first place where a big mismatch can be revealed. For instance, it’s not enough to simply know what the company’s values are. (You can find them on their website and after a while they all look the same…integrity; service; servant leadership, performance; collegial; collaborative; people-first…they very quickly appear to be the workplace versions of personal ads. Replace them with “candlelight dinners,” “puppies,” “walks on the beach,” and you’ll see what I mean.)

The trick is to ask your interviews how those values have been demonstrated by decisions and choices in recent years. If the company really takes its values seriously, your interviewers will have plenty of stories at their fingertips. A few good questions to ask, for instance, are:

1.Can you tell me of a time when you hired a star candidate who turned out to be a culture mismatch (if you’re really brave, say, “toxic manager”)? How did you handle that situation?

2.Can you think of a time when you were able to save a new hire who got off on the wrong foot culturally? What happened with that person? Can I talk with him or her?

3. Do you have any mentorship or culturalization onboarding programs in place, so I can be sure to hit the ground running?

4. What exactly does servant leadership look like here in terms of behaviors and expectations? Could you introduce me to someone who is known to represent the best leadership qualities that work in this culture?

Sure. You’ll take your interviewers by surprise with these questions (unless they’ve read this blog as well…in which case they’ll recognize immediately how brilliant you are!). Most interviewers are accustomed to asking behavioral interview questions, not having to answer them. If they draw a blank on these questions, and can’t tell you stories to support their cultural ideals, that’s your first big sign that there could be a culture mismatch here. And that you would get zero support while trying to integrate yourself into your new team.

But others will be so relieved to discover that you recognize the importance of a culture fit for managers, that – assuming everything else is in place – they’ll be falling all over themselves to hand you the keys to the 60% Club. That’s the club you’ll want to join. There’s staying power there.

Tim Russert: A Blueprint for Boss Behavior

If you’ve been following the news over the weekend, you probably fall into one of two camps: Those who think the sad passing of Tim Russert was perhaps a wee bit over-covered (“Oh, you mean the pope?” asked a newspaper editor I had lunch with on Saturday, who clearly had had more than enough of the same looped footage broadcast from the newsroom televisions) and those who think the world can’t get enough exposure to the examples of what seems to have been a genuinely nice guy who was great at his work and who really shouldn’t have died at age 58. While I totally get my editor friend’s point, I would have to raise my hand and join the latter group.

For a while there I thought I knew the reason why I am riveted to this wall-to-wall eulogy of Russert. I sprang from the Washington world affairs scene, on both the journalism and the government side of things. However, my own foray into Washington journalism was destined to be short. Like another daughter of an undercover CIA operative whom I know – who also happened to get into journalism – we were raised to accept the first answer to our questions as the official response and to probe no further. Fora few years there, I thought my father was a television repairman. "What do you do for work Daddy?" "I work for Zenith." "Oh. Okay."

Had I been old enough to have covered Watergate, a certain press conference would have gone thusly:

“I am not a crook.”

“Oh. Okay.”

So when I graduated from J school (that’s, ahem, journalism), I already pretty much knew my limitations. And so I became a receptionist instead. Good career move, that.

But I still watch the goings on in Washington, especially Washington journalism, to run a gut check now and then to see if there is any lingering regret or homesickness, now that I’m exiled west of the Pecos in the land of coyotes, quail and Kokopelli. Happily, latest returns say no. Still good.

And I’m not alone among the Washington expats. Even Valerie Plame has chosen Santa Fe. I keep hoping to run into her at Whole Foods, catch her eye, and whisper some carefully chosen word that would tell her in an instant, “you and me, we have a lot in common. How’s about a cup of coffee?” But, in fact, we don’t have a lot in common, and if I were ever to run into her, I’d probably say, “Oh Mrs. Plame, I mean Miss Wilson, I mean Valerie, I mean, …you’re my biggest fan!”

So I’m living out my destiny as an employee engagement consultant, spending the weekend watching the Tim Russert coverage, flopped on my bed in the desert in mid-June, cooling off by eating Dreyer’s frozen fruit bars, with exactly 1,864.65 miles between my current life and my past more humid, but better air-conditioned life in the DC area, where Dreyer’s is sold as Edie’s.

I’ve already dismissed any romantic notion that maybe I should have been more energetic as a go-get-em cub reporter. So what’s this continuing fascination with the Tim Russert story? Eventually the truth makes its way to the front of my sugar-soaked brain: Yes we’re hearing all about what a great journalist he was. And most certainly we’re hearing all about what a wonderful son he was and, of course, what an inspiring father he was.

But we’re also hearing about what an amazing coworker and boss he was. Oh….now we’re talking my language! Without even having to sit up, I stretch my fingertips toward the legal pad on the bed next to me, draw it nigh, find a pen in the folds of the cotton sheets, pull the cap off with my teeth and start taking notes based on what I’m hearing.

And what I’m hearing is a blueprint for the kind of leadership attributes that will inspire people to follow your example long after you have moved on.

Cheerleader: Russert called his staff his “dream team.” He made his team “all proud” to be who they are, in the business that they are in, working hard for the cause of information and understanding.

Infectious enthusiasm for his work: In this case, one would say that Russert was enthusiastic about the nation, its political process, and the Fourth Estate, if treated respectfully and respectably, could continue to inform its citizens to make the best decisions for the country’s future. Russert got the calling of his profession.

Authentic: I’m a little worried that authenticity might be used so much now that the word itself might be losing its edge of authenticity. But in Russert’s case, everyone agrees that “what you saw was what you got.” He didn’t bother to hide his boyish enthusiasm for his work and his interviewees. He didn’t try to pretty up a face that was made for radio. I would bet he didn’t even bother reading books on how to have difficult conversations with his subordinates. He might never have given a coffee mug or a mylar balloon in his life as a thank you gift to a staffer. Maybe as a joke (he had been known to give a bobble-head or two) but certainly not because he read in a book somewhere that coffee mugs are a great way to retain talent.

Ambitious for his friends (including the people who worked for him; even his competition): He took the time to teach the people around him, celebrated their opportunities to grow, suggested questions for other reporters to use and claim credit for. His friends, colleagues and competitors universally reminisced this weekend that his generosity of time, insight, information and guidance made them all better and smarter.

Aggressive but civil: Every business is, in some way, a competitive one. And you must be willing to invest some spit and spine in your work to be your most effective. But Russert demonstrated that even in the most bull-dog of all businesses, most of the time you could leave your opponent exposed, but still standing and unbloodied.

Enduring faith in humanity: On Meet the Press this morning, Russert’s executive producer, who had been with him 17 years, since she was an intern, stoically remembered him as saying, “The best exercise for the human heart is to bend down and pick someone up.” Only an enduring faith in humanity would inspire someone to hold in his heart the belief that helping someone in need, in pain, or even in ambition would be worth the effort time and time again.

These are attributes that every people leader should hold in his or her own heart every day as they work with their team and their customers. To be a leader is to require that you must be a genuinely decent human being. Share the glory. Take time to teach. Take time to remind your team that they are players on your dream team – and if they truly aren’t, build a team that does represent your dreams for excellence. You would be making their dreams come true as well.

You may not be a reporter or a television personality. You may or may not be a parent. But if you’re a leader, you can draw from Tim Russert’s examples and enduring reputation to inspire a new level of performance in the way you treat your people, ignite their own passion for their work, and inspire generations to come.

And that would be very boss indeed.

Truth 50: How to Engage Hearts and Minds

So I’m meeting my good friend, Colleen Cayes, for breakfast this morning. She has to be one of the smartest people I know (she believes that my new book, The Truth About Getting the Best From People, should be in the hands of every people leader in the corporate world, so she has to be smart, right?). And our plan for breakfast today was to brainstorm ways that we can get the word out about the book and the one-day training program that goes along with it.

True to form, she’s there before me. And as I cross the parking lot, I see she’s already deep in conversation with the restaurant owner, standing in front patio. And I hear Colleen telling “Susan” all about the book. This is what “Susan” says in response:

“Oh! I could use that book! I need everything I can get to get the best from my people. See…I am really disappointed in the quality of my employees. It used to be that whenever I put up a help wanted sign, I’d have the most wonderful people lined up down the block applying for the job. Now, I can’t get anybody good. Now I consider myself lucky that I get people to even show up for work. Forget getting the best from them….” She went on for quite a while about how she’s constantly frustrated by the poor quality of her employees.

Okay, if that’s the way it is, fair enough. But can you guess what was wrong with this picture? Here it is: Standing right next to her was a member of her kitchen staff, standing silently watering her pots of geraniums under the morning sun. And taking in every single word. I wanted to catch his eye and smile, but he didn’t look up. Not once.

Colleen and I walked into the restaurant, exchanging mutterings about “can you believe what just happened?”, sat down and ordered a fabulous breakfast served by attentive and cheerful bus and waitstaff. Except for the interaction with the owner herself, it was a flawless dining experience.

So, of course, I’m thinking, what’s the lesson here? This is it: If you want to be an engaging people leader, respect your people’s feelings. What does that mean in terms of specific behaviors and interactions? I could go on for days, but here are a few ideas:

· Be careful of what you say about your people – especially when they’re standing right next to you.

· Never bad-mouth your people to the outside world – especially to your customers.

· Double-check your own beliefs about your people. Is it really true that you’re the captain of the Ship of Fools? Or is that just some belief that you picked up somewhere like stink on your shoe? Could one or two losers or weirdos on your staff have colored your perceptions of everyone? Could it be that what you think isn’t really what you think, when you think about it?

· Notice passion; notice brilliance; notice dedication. And then let your people know you notice. When I deliver my speech, “Sustain Your Flame!”, to groups of organizational leaders, I always open with this request: “If you love your work, raise your hand.” Hands shoot up wall to wall. Then I say, “If you can think of anyone at your workplace who loves their work, raise your hand” hardly any hands appear. If you’re a people leader and you can’t think of anyone who works for you and loves their work, that says more about you than your people.

· Get in the habit of noticing. We all know about that principle that just as you’re contemplating buying a certain make of car, you see that car everywhere you go on the road. When you get in the habit of noticing employees showing their passion for their work by the way to do their work, you’re going to see little sparkles of engagement everywhere in your company. Notice, celebrate, then repeat!

And then, maybe the next time you ‘re chatting with a customer you’ll have way more positive things to say about the people who work for you! And, believe me, the favor will be returned, and a whole new caliber of excellent candidates will start appearing with your next job openings. (You may not have noticed, but your people are talking too.)

Confidential to Hiring Managers: Spank Alert!

Believe me, I totally get it. Being in the job market can be really unpleasant – especially for hiring managers. As much as job seekers are wondering if there is a place for them in the world, it’s no picnic being a hiring manager either. You have to interview a long line of candidates, most of whom fall on some point on the loser continuum. Perhaps you’ve heard your company’s leadership crow about “hiring for passion, training for skill” one too many times. You know the truth: If the candidate’s resume doesn’t connect the dots just so, you’ve got to spit that contender back out into the universe of yearning wannabes. It’s hard on them, it’s hard on you. It’s a big, fat drag.

Sorry, but that’s no excuse for some truly heartless behavior I’ve witnessed lately. Are we depressed? Too funky to function? Or have we just lost our Manual to Just Plain Common Decency?

The stories of rudeness – even downright cruelty – abound. For this particular posting, however, I want to focus on one specific behavior from hiring managers I’ve been seeing repeatedly: Insensitive lack of follow-up. To wit: The words, “I’ll call you.” Even worse, the words, “I’ll call you by the end of the week.” And then they don’t. Don’t they know how mean that is?

If you’re a regular Oprah (or Sex in the City) watcher like I am, you may remember the whole concept of “He’s Just Not That Into You.” Hearing the words “I’ll call you” at the end of a date may or may not mean that you’ll actually get called for a second date. So you shrug, think to yourself, “whatever,” and just get on with your life.

It’s an annoying, infantile behavior on the dating scene, but it’s positively unacceptable in the job market.

At the moment I have two friends in the job market, both talented, smart, passionate people knocking themselves out to find a great job that can make the best of their considerable skills. I’m proud to know them both, and any company who hires them will do themselves a big favor. But both have heard, “I’ll call you by….” And then…wait for it…nothing.

One friend never heard from that hiring manager at all, ever – even though the interviewer told her she was on the short list of candidates, and would call her “by Friday.”

The other friend, on an extremely short list for a high-level executive position, invested three solid days of her extremely valuable time in the interview process (not to mention a total of over 300 miles of driving distance – and we all know what that means in terms of a gas bill). She was told by her prospective boss, “I’ll call you Thursday or Friday with an answer.” Thursday and Friday came and went. So did the weekend. So did the following Monday – well most of it. At 4:20, the phone rang. It was the prospective boss saying, “Sorry I forgot to call you on Friday. We’ve decided to continue our search.”

The boss forgot?? How do you forget about a promise you made on something so important as a job the candidate is totally passionate about? You don’t forget. You keep your promise.

Just when I thought I’d heard it all, I heard a new riff on the similar theme. Yet another friend (I seem to have a lot of friends in the job market right now) was flown by the hiring company cross-country for a series of panel interviews. It was a lively, exhausting day. She left feeling cautiously optimistic (one of the panel members actually wanted the job in question…don’t get me started on panel interviews).

Weeks came and went. She heard nothing. Phone calls and emails went unreturned. And so she did what any sensible person would do: She shrugged, thought “whatever,” and went on with her life. Then one day, out of the blue, the hiring manager’s assistant called to request a phone appointment a few days hence. Hmm…maybe they’re interested after all.

So my friend waits with rising optimism. And then the conversation begins thusly:
“We have decided to continue our search. But I thought you would like to hear feedback from your interview.”

This is what I would call a one-two punch. To my friend’s credit, she heroically endured a half-hour’s worth of negative feedback. Thanked the hiring manager very much for her time and then called me. True…sensible job candidates are open to feedback on interviews but not like that. Don’t put candidates on a yo-yo of hope and despair and then wait until they’ve released all hope to then call them for one last parting roundhouse across the jaw.

Again, let me repeat: I know it’s hard to be you, if you’re a hiring manager. You have to interview a whole bunch of people – every single one of them – except one – will receive disappointing news. And that has to be hard on your own spirit.
But so is treating candidates callously. It’s tempting to put off making those difficult phone calls. But that helps no one. You’re prolonging your own agony as much as you’re prolonging theirs.

And you’re wrecking your company’s reputation when you behave that way. Remember my first friend in this article? As coincidence would have it, she’s been invited to apply for a job in the last company I mentioned. You can be very sure that I told her all about the third friend’s experience with them.

Is she going to go ahead with the interview? Sure. Will she go into the process whole-heartedly, passionately, and hopefully? Nope. She’ll be holding back – which is completely against her nature.

All over this country, we have a cadre of fabulously talented, but dispirited, candidates who have given up bit by bit. I gotta tell you: In a very large part, hiring managers have themselves to blame.

Be a mensch! Keep your promises! Make those calls!

Confidential to Job Seekers: Talk to Strangers!

Okay, I’ve got a very cool story to tell, but forewarning: It’s going to sound like I’m bragging. I swear I’m not. It’s just this is an amazing story and I just happen to be a player in it. Okay? Okay, here goes:

About a month ago, a brand new client of mine was flying me to their Connecticut HQ from Albuquerque. This part is noteworthy only in the sense that it was a rare opportunity for me to fly First Class (I didn’t ask for it, they just gave it to me). Only problem: It was stand-by First Class. So you can imagine what happened next: On the ABQ to DFW leg, I’m trudging down the aisle along with everyone else, trying to not shoot envious big-eyed orphan glances at those comfortably settled in the big leather seats up front, already happily grasping their drinks on their broad armrests.

As I’m consoling myself down the aisle, the little voice inside my head says, “Something really good is going to come out of this.” (I may be codependent but that’s nothing compared to the codependency of the little voice inside my head.)

I sit next a guy who is flipping through the pictures in his digital camera, and being a chatty kinda gal who also happens to live in one of the nation’s top vacation destinations, I ask him, “Going home after a vacation to Santa Fe?” Nope. Wrongo. Come to find out his wife and children live in Albuquerque but he works in Tennessee. “Oh? Doing what?” He gives me one of those highly technical, exotic foreign answers that would make anyone say blankly, “ohhhhh, how nice for you…say where is that beverage cart anyway?”

Turns out, it wasn’t so nice for him. Every time he went home for a visit, it meant that he would have to wrench himself away from his family, and his heart would be going crack, crack, crack, all the way back to his dismal bachelor life back in Tennessee. He was leaving Albuquerque this time freshly determined to find a job within a pillow’s throw of his cherished wife and two adoring sons. And so he told me all about it.

Now remember: His expertise is highly specialized, highly technical, and to make matters worse, highly manufacturing. The kind of job that would make elicit the response, “Well, good luck with that.” But not me. Oh no. I said, “Send me your resume and I’ll see what I can do.” Not like I know anything or anyone in manufacturing. But, hey, you never know, right?

Long to short: He starts his new job in Albuquerque tomorrow. And now his two sons quite rightly think: “Dad has the coolest job in town.” And he really does. And it’s in town!

Here’s a quick summary of what happened between then and tomorrow: That night I got to my hotel room in Stamford. And there was his resume emailed to me. I was a) tired; b) on major chocolate withdrawal and c) thinking, “what are the chances of anything coming this? What’s on tv?” But that darn inner voice chimed in, “Larry King can wait. You promised, now get cracking.”
Yeah, but I promised then. This is now. I’m tired. And besides what are the odds that anything could come of this?

Now there were only two companies that came to mind as possible employers for this guy. But really, what could possibly be the chances that they would have an opening that would exactly fit his skills? I looked up the first company, and discovered that they are hiring out of San Carlos, CA, and looking for a svp/hr. So I figured they probably wouldn’t be hiring someone like this guy right now. I totally didn’t even bother with them.

Then I looked at the other company, found the svp/hr, figured out what her email address would probably be, and sent her an email saying, “You don’t know me but there’s this guy I met on the plane today who….” I attached his resume, detaching myself from any residual interest in the outcome. And then went about scaring up some chocolate and finding CNN on the tube. I spent the next several days working with this new client and thinking about myself.

Back in New Mexico, this lovely svp/hr took the time to open an email from a stranger, opened the attachment, and discovered a possible match for a position long open and needing attention pretty darn quick. (I just love email, don’t you?)

Next thing I hear: The guy comes back to Albuquerque upon their invitation, surprises his sons by picking them up unexpectedly at school, goes to a series of interviews at this company the next day, is offered the job of his dreams before he even gets home. (I just love cell phones, don’t you?)

From my perspective – and from the perspective of anyone even remotely involved in HR – life is full of happenstance matches that make for happy career stories. So for me, it’s a nifty story that makes me smile.

But can you imagine what it must have been like for this guy? Of all the flights between ABQ and DFW, and of all the seats on the plane, he has to sit next to this chatty woman. And then guess what? She’s the opening conduit to a dream come true.

It is actually his doing that makes this a story with a happy ending. He was willing to talk to a stranger. So there’s a tip for you: Talk to strangers; tell anyone who will listen who you are and what you want.

It will improve the odds.

A special note from Martha: If you’re a manager, your company is counting on you to be an engaging leader. But what exactly does that mean? And how do you do engagement? Just because you’re brilliant at your technical skills, that doesn’t mean that you’re a natural at people skills. New managers need a book that can help them figure it out in simple, straightforward ideas.

What do you speak? Boo Hooo? or Woo HOOO!

I’ve been playing with the title of this posting over recent days. And to be honest with you, a couple of titles I have been especially fond of are as follows: “What Am I, Your Mommy?” And “No One Wants A Whiner.” But that would be mean-spirited, wouldn’t it? But I’ve got to tell you, based on, like, 85% of the emails I’ve been getting from job-seeking readers recently, I wouldn’t be hiring those people either! In fact, based on the boo hoo factor, I don’t even bother to respond to most of them (and you know who you are…that response email that you didn’t get? That’s me.).

Believe me, I’m not pointing the finger at anyone without pointing three back at myself. I know what it means to be completely at sea, not knowing where my place is in the world. I’ve even been accused of self-pity, but that was just because the accuser just like the rest of the world didn’t understand me – or appreciate me or hire me or get me or….. Get the idea?

You know those wonderful moments when the right words at the right time hit you right between the eyes? A subtle suggestion that you consider the same things but through a different light changes your perspective forever. That happened to me about 10 years ago when I was holed up in a borrowed house on Cape Cod in the depths of one of the snowiest, coldest winters on record. I was flat broke. The few people I knew in this small town shunned me like existential life confusion might be contagious. (One of the shunners is a writer too. And I found myself as an unpleasant character in one of her published short stories a few years later. She didn’t even bother changing my name. Now that was a bummer. I have the last laugh, though. My Amazon sales rankings are always much better than hers. Not that I’m holding a grudge or anything.)

The previous summer wasn’t much better either. I spent it on the basement sofa of a generous and way patient friend who took me in after I was stranded in Columbus, OH, after a client refused to pay me a desperately needed (and much earned fee) because I turned him down in regarding, shall we say, another matter. See? I can go there with the best of you!

Anyway, back to the Cape Cod house and those right words. It was definitely one of those times that Judy Collins calls the “fallow time.” But one weekend a friend of mine came up from New Haven to spend a few days on the blustery beaches. And in the evenings we’d sit wrapped in afghans, talking about life, and basically why I thought it, well, sucked. (Normally, I don’t like to use that expression, but in this case, it’s the only one that works.)

I whined (I mean, said): “I know I need a job, but I can’t bring myself to go around the Cape pleading with people to give me a chance to show what I can do.”

To which my friend, Patricia, said, “It’s not about what you need, it’s about what you can give.”

Thwack! Did you hear that? It’s the sound of an arrow of break-through brilliance leaving its bow and aiming straight between my eyes, which slowly crossed as I said, “ooooohhhhhh.” And suddenly, indulging in my mopes seemed actually selfish.

Did I happen to mention that Patricia is a coach? I think she’s one of the few true coaches who are actually born to the work. Just being around her makes you inspired to lose weight, do a The Firm dvd all the way through, and add another six digits to your annual salary.

Her right time/right words words changed my life (well at least my perspective – my The Firm dvds only get my attention when it’s time to dust. And often not even then).

And I suddenly started thinking of my search for meaningful (i.g., paying) work as being an intersection where I can introduce my passion and abilities with real market need out there. How selfish of me to keep holed up and scared in my (well, someone else’s) house when there are people out there who actually need what I can do. And what I can do would actually make them happy.

All of which is to say: It’s completely understandable how in your pain it’s easy to lose sight of who you really are, what gives you true joy and how you can benefit the planet. And suddenly you start talking about yourself in high, squeaky, whiney tones in terms of what you need and your long litany of frustrations. And my all-time favorite expression starts to surface in your mind and escape your lips: “Yeah but.”

Another arrow between the eyes happened last fall. I was Randy Pausch came on to deliver his now-famous Last Lecture on Oprah. If you haven’t seen it, where have you been? Do it now. No, really, stop reading and do it right this very minute. We'll wait for you.

You’ll see that among the many brilliant things he says, he says that we each have the choice to be Eyore or Tigger. TIgger spends his life bouncing for joy (a friend of mine has a Tigger cartoon on her fridge that says “no bouncing before breakfast.” Cracks me up every time). Eyore looks at life through one big self-pitying monocle of mope.

Now I ask you, which one would you like to hang out with? Which one would you prefer to hire? I’m guessing Tigger. Tigger speaks in Woo Hoo! And, not to rhyme or anything, but if it rhymes, you know it’s gotta be true: Tigger speaks in Woo Hoo, and so you should too!

Even if things are way crappy, there is always something to bounce about. Even that little smidgeon of joy is something you can give. And eventually you’ll be able to figure out a way to sell it, because people will want to have a piece of you and your passion.

(Here’s another link to lift your spirits…it comes from The Secret, and it’s a minute of amazing images to make you really glad to get up in the morning and be standing on this particular planet. )

And so in closing, allow me to just say: Woo HOOOOO! That is, as they say in the Hoky Pokey, "what it's all about."

A special note from Martha: If you’re a manager, your company is counting on you to be an engaging leader. But what exactly does that mean? And how do you do engagement? Just because you’re brilliant at your technical skills, that doesn’t mean that you’re a natural at people skills. New managers need a book that can help them figure it out in simple, straightforward ideas.

That’s why I wrote The Truth About Getting the Best From People. It’s a book made up of 49 short, simple truths designed to help new managers understand how their beliefs and behaviors directly impact their employees’ passion factor on the job.

Click on the title and check it out! I hope you’ll enjoy it!