You’re an asset until you’re not …
The hardest lesson learned in my professional career
WE INTERRUPT YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED UTILITY BLOG POST READING TO DISCUSS THAT WHICH ISN’T BEING DISCUSSED MORE …
Hola friends,
I was originally going to dedicate this time to write about AI and the conversation I just had with an entrepreneur looking to get a sense of how machine learning can be used in testing. Then I read a couple of articles on FLIPBOARD that got me riled up. I couldn’t contain myself.
I want to forewarn you, this is going to be a bit of a spicy 🌶 hot-take. Not quite Carolina Reaper-level, but definitely not for the gentle palate. If you wish to stop reading now, god speed .. be on your merry way. If you’re still here … let’s go!
And just like that … it happened!
Picture it: You wake up as usual and workout, eat your breakfast, and shuttle off to work at your job like you have done everyday prior for the last week/month/year(s). You love your job and are excited for your yearly performance review. Hopefully, a bump in title and pay.
You log in like you usually do and find a calendar invite from your manager at the start of the morning, no agenda or description. You think to yourself, “Nothing to worry about, it’s probably a question from yesterday’s work or a new assignment.” You get called in for that 1:1 still not suspecting anything because why would you. You’ve hit all your metrics and you’ve been a top performer. Everyone loves working with you, and your 360 peer reviews were glowing. All is well so far, right?
Then, to your surprise, your meeting is not just with your manager but also with a member from HR whom you’ve never met. You look on the desk and see there is a vanilla-colored folder with your name on it. The words that come from your manager’s mouth are pleasant and somewhat carefully measured to lessen their impact. They are the last words you ever expected to hear. Time stops, your heart starts racing, and nothing makes sense anymore. A box with all your belongings is the only thing you have with you, and the last thing you remember seeing is your employee badge you were asked to leave as you are escorted out of the building.
If you’re remote, this is a cold zoom call followed by instructions on where to send your company-issued laptop.
RIF, layoff, right-size, downsize, role elimination, sh***-canned, they are all padded synonyms for the same thing: you just lost your job. It doesn’t matter how your manager or HR lays it on you. You are no longer employed. You are ex comunicato!
Let’s let that marinate for a minute.
You can be fired for any reason, or no reason
If you are not from the US, here in the United States, there are some companies that abide by “at will” employment which means (the short version) you are free to leave with reason (or none), or your employer can terminate you for any reason (or none). Some states, like California, do require advanced notice (see WARN Act). But as has happened lately, through some really nasty public displays of bruised egos, anyone can be fired for whatever.
This first story was the driving factor for my writing this blog in the first place. OP was struggling in her job as a bank teller. Part of that job was to cash out the till at the end of the shift. If it came up short, there would be consequences.
As months went passed, OP repeatedly came up short on her till. The amounts were never stated, but the point is she never received proper training on how to improve. Instead, she was the recipient of implicit threats by her manager that she could be fired at any time, or that she could leave at any time. It was a toxic relationship and emblematic of weak leadership. I won’t spoil the story, but it has a great ending.
You can be too good at your job and still get fired!
In this second story, the employee states (in a video) she was fired for being “too efficient” at her job. On the one hand, an argument can be made that she should have communicated her plan with her manager before taking action. On the other hand, by being “too efficient” she showed up her manager and bruised his ego, robbing him of any authority in the matter.
I’ll let you form your own opinion.
In any case, there was no need to terminate a good employee when a discussion could / should have been had to discuss the misunderstanding, establish a better process, repair any damage, and preserve the relationship.
Folks, I have zero tolerance for fragile egos, weak leaders, and petulant narcissistic managers. When I was a Personnel Manager, I hired hundreds of people and supervised just as many. I have never ever fired someone for doing a good job or feeling like they one-upped me. Madness!!
And getting fired for doing a good job is the most traumatic event you can ever experience. In essence, you have been punished for no good reason. You are made to feel like your impact and contribution no longer matter. That your value is nil. You were discarded like a used battery.
Dealing with the trauma of job loss
Many of my friends are thriving in their stations. Some have advanced in their careers to hold management titles. Others have pivoted all together into different roles. I am actively in the latter category, working to move on towards my passion (will discuss in a future post). I love them all and so happy for their success. I’m walking on a different path.
I want to dedicate this time to the traumatic effect of job loss and what that does to your self-esteem. In our line of work, we are already regarded in some places as the lowest spot on the totem pole.
Joke is on those people. It’s the base of the totem pole that is the strongest. Without that, the whole thing topples over. Without quality, no product is worth buying, nor a service worth using if the output is crap. Don’t believe me? Ask Marvel movie execs how they’re doing.
But I digress. Everyone remembers their first job loss. I know I do. I still have scars. For a long while, I had a chip on my shoulder. It made me good at what I did, but it won me no favors when it came to building relationships.
The Lesson — please DO NOT take the sudden job loss to heart. It can be a traumatic life-changing event. But it’s not about you. Don’t move on to the next gig and NOT deal with the hurt like I did or it will catch up to you when you least expect it.
The Blessing — to borrow a quote from a popular minister, sometimes a setback is just a setup for something better. Like an arrow, it takes the draw — pulling the bowstring back — before letting it fly forward and farther.
PIPs are poop!
You haven’t fully experienced life until you’ve been put on a PIP — a performance improvement plan. On the surface, this is a 30 / 60 day plan your manager sets up with you to iron out some “performance issues” you are having and get you squared away. Sounds warm and fuzzy, right?
PIPs are the cudgel of toxic managers needing reasons to reduce headcount, replace you with their friend/cousin/roommate, or simply find a cheaper employee. And performance can mean anything at anytime so long as it fits a desired narrative.
Let me explain why I loathe PIPs with every fibre of my being:
- Issues Raised, Zero Context! If this is the first time you’ve heard of the issues your manager has raised as “concerns” that need to be dealt with, or the issues are easily remedied, this PIP has no reason to exist. They want you out. The raised issues should have been dealt with as a first-step check-in conversation. A weakness in management if there ever was one.
- Unclear Expectations! If you are on a PIP and the goals put forth by your manager have no metrics (actionable, realistic goals) assigned to them you aren’t going to win. You can hit all the marks, but those marks are moving targets.
- They’re Useless! I’ve experienced PIPs and they are not fun. They are a nerve-wracking, stress-inducing exercise in weak leadership. You are now measuring every word, email, and conversation you have to ensure you are not risking further harm to your reputation. The relationship between you and your manager is fractured. Even if you do win the PIP, the trust is gone. There’s no going back to how it was. There will always be the stain on your otherwise impeccable job performance. It’s over.
The Lesson — You can beat PIPs and still lose your job. Been there. The lesson is to know your worth and recognize you belong in a place that values you. There’s a thousand reasons why the PIP is not your fault, but take ownership of what you can control. You see them for who they are and recognize you belong elsewhere. You can choose the anchor or the sail, but not both.
The Blessing — If you legitimately messed up (repeatedly) and are on a PIP with reason, definitely make sure you’ve outlined the goals the right way and get on the path. Even if you don’t remain employed, the blessing is that you improve, learn, and crush it in your next gig. Be humble or get humbled!
You are not your job
The first time I was ever fired, it was at a non-tech job. It was a place where I had spent my formative years working from the bottom all the way up to management. I gave my everything to this place. Literal blood, sweat, and the occasional tear. I had many laughs, loves, and lessons. I became a supervisor, then a Personnel Manager. I had the opportunity to train people the right way and do things the right way. I got to fix their issues, and I handled all manner of recruitment and retention. I looooved that job and was going to make it a career.
Then one day, through an unfortunate series of events leading up to this particular moment, I was held responsible for the disaster that unfolded as a consequence of a communication break-down.
The circumstances were beyond my control and outside of the responsibilities of my station. Didn’t matter. It was on me to fix, and I did (with the help of another supervisor), but the damage was done and someone needed to go.
All the loyalty and good will I built up throughout the years didn’t matter. All the problems they caused that I fixed, forgotten. All the fourteen hour days, six days a week that I worked didn’t mean anything. I had no friends or allies supporting me. No one came to my defense. It was over.
I spent several years in a state of hire/quit, hire/fire. I never processed the trauma or the hurt. I simply let the animus of mistrusting authority carry me into the next role. To no avail.
Fast-forward years later, when I made my career choice into technology, I was confronted with the same scenario. The president and upper-management of the company failed to provide us with new business. Their ego got comfortable (and lazy) with their current portfolio, but we were losing more than winning. Eventually, we lost a big fish. They got to keep their jobs, but good hardworking folks, including yours truly, won the layoff lotto.
The Lesson — You are not your job. I had made that first job my identity. I loved the responsibility of leading others. I took the loss to heart. It shaped my personality. I still have the scars, but I’m in a different headspace. I have healed. With every job that I’ve landed (and lost) there has been this sense of appreciation of the good that I brought, and what I’ve learned.
Also, there’s no such thing as loyalty! You are an asset until you’re not, and then you’re a liability.
The Blessing — Looking back, they did me the greatest solid. The job was an absolute mess. I was barely making any money. Despite the foundation I established, no one replaced me. I would not be where I am if they had kept me employed.
The value you bring
The madness of this so called work life is you spend twelve years at a desk, then you graduate and spend four to six years at a desk, hoping to land a job, so you can spend the rest of your existence at a desk. Wiiild!!
If you have made it to the end of this post feeling somewhat joyful — good!
If you’ve made it this far and still feel like you want to heal from the hurt — good! Drop me a comment, or find me on linked in. My line is always open
Conclusion
The trauma of job loss is seldom talked about. It’s worse in our community, where quality assurance analysts and engineers have become commoditized.
We are not disposable.
We are talented individuals with career aspirations to realized.
We are qualified, well-able people with families to support.
We are not average, nor mediocre.
We are valuable and we will get past this trauma.
ciao for now
