It’s as if you don’t want to be here

It was 2009, and I was about 9 months into my first real job. For those first months I had an easy job. Each week I would design and slice up marketing emails that would get sent out to our customers.

These were the days (as if it was so long ago) where heavy graphic promo emails were all the rage.

Still, this is what I did. I had a template, would throw in product shots and sliced up the various images to placed in a table-based email.

In no way was I encouraged to improve my coding skills. I did not have opportunities to work on a small project here or there for the website itself. I did emails. Very static emails at that. About as straightforward and monotonous as you could get.

A lot of changes were happening at my company at the time. This was the height of the recession. People were being let go. Positions were being shuffled around. And I found myself in a new department where they tasked me with coding out a complete site.

I had never done this before and felt like they ripped from the kiddie pool and thrown into the deep end. No swimming lessons or floatation devices provided.

I longed for the opportunity but was completely frightened at the same time. I did my best but was a complete failure. Worst, I kept completely quiet about it as I went about my work.

Rather than raise my hand and cry out for help, I kept my head down and tried to get by. It wasn’t long before they found out and the work was nowhere near where it needed to be.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the time and place for an inexperienced employee to learn the ropes. Layoffs were happening around me as the economy continued to falter.

Rather than a support system that recognized I needed help, they admonished me for derailing the team. For requiring that they pull others off their work to help me with mine.

I felt demoralized. I thought very little of myself for not doing better. For keeping quiet about not doing better.

I shut down. I stopped going to lunch with the rest of the team because I couldn’t bear facing them. I didn’t know what else to do.

A senior team member pulled me aside to ask what was going on. He said, “it’s as if you don’t want to be here.”

What a terrible thing to say to someone struggling. As if it was my attitude that was the problem instead of the situation I now found myself in.

I didn’t feel this way at all. This was my first job. I was getting married in only a few short months. I needed the money as much as I needed the validation.

Moreover, I loved web design and coding. At the same time, I didn’t have enough experience in it and didn’t have much support.

I blamed myself because I knew I could do better. I expected that I should have been better and punished myself.

I didn’t blame my company or my management because I didn’t know better. I figured they must know exactly what they’re doing.

But they in no way prepared me for the position they put me in to expect different results. They didn’t know how to, or even if they should, help me.

They put me on a personal improvement plan. It was a giant shape-up-or-ship-out message. Improve or we “could” let you go.

This was a wake up call for me. I was young and inexperienced. I could have shut down completely and never recover. Instead, I poured myself into learning and getting better.

I spent a lot of hours at work to get my work done. I then spent a lot of hours going through books and online resources to improve my skills.

I wish the circumstances were different. If this happened to an employee of mine, I’d approach it in another way.

It was a tough love approach to getting me where I needed to be. I don’t think my management team knew any differently.

Regardless, I learned a lot in a very short time and proved myself.

I came off the personal improvement plan and found myself enjoying my work. I was making a lot of strides and providing value. People seemed pleased with my progress.

I was still eventually laid off. A casualty of the economy. So they said. What I learned was that I could make it.

I could take an uncomfortable situation, either of my own making or not, and work my way out of it.

It was an invaluable lesson that I don’t regret for a second. While not exactly pleasant at the time, I determined to not be my own worst enemy.

To speak up when I didn’t know what I was doing. To call attention to problems as I saw them. To work hard at improving my skills (while not killing myself in the process).

I learned lessons that would cause me to act otherwise as a manager.

I don’t know if I would be where I am today had I not experienced it.