The Head Of A Gypsy
I have the head of a gypsy, both literally and metaphorically.
My boss called a two-month performance review to tell me (A) they need me to take initiative and ownership, and (B) stop working on Penguicon at the office.
On the latter point: I have been busted fair and square. I will comply and try not to fall off the wagon. My boss still likes me a great deal, and has high hopes for me. Enough said about that.
The high hopes part is what worries me. Taking initiative and ownership is a challenge I have not yet ever surmounted in the workplace. I know what the obstacle is, and what causes it. I thought of a plan to remedy it, and in case that fails, a contingency plan to circumvent it.
1. The problem
What they don't tell you in art school is that graphic design-- whether for print or the web-- is 1% creative and 99% office politics. Sure, you've got basic usability as you would see on Jacob Neilsen's Alertbox. You can fight for that stuff objectively, it's not just a judgement call. But beyond that, what "looks good" creatively? You're supposed to communicate the company's identity. Who can identify the company's identity? Not somebody who never heard of the company before last month. The executives can. Or the customers. Or the other executive. Or the members. You're a political football. This is why every graphic design job I had until this one was just a different type of secretary. They're the brain of the body, you are the set of hands that implements somebody's creative decisions because they don't know how to use publishing software.
Using software is fun, politics is not. I was comfortable with that for eight years. Too comfortable. I can just do what I'm told, get paid, clock out. If anything, this system makes it easier to focus on what I'm really living for.
But suddenly I'm in a job where that's not expected of me. For the level of money I'm getting now, it's no longer acceptable to wait for everybody else in the company to tell me to put their stuff on the site. I have to retrain my mindset to where if they don't do that, it's my problem.
The problem is that I'm doing my job in order to get paid, not because the problems I'm solving are intrinsically interesting. If I actually were interested in an ownership way in saying "hey our site should have this on it", I would be paying them to let me make it that way. I never thought of this as a bad attitude, it's just elementary economics, right? I am quite satisfied with my job-- in the sense that I look at the exchange of income for tasks and I'm pleased. But if I walked away from the site tomorrow, I would never think "oh no, somebody's going to do it wrong" the way I do with Penguicon. Indeed, I would never think about it again.
In your job, would you?
2. The remedy
I am two or three steps removed from the person whose life is better because of my work. The only reward I directly see is the paycheck. How to overcome this? The only solution I see, short of rewiring my motivational system, will be to cultivate empathy and caring, which translates into taking initiative and ownership. I have to investigate and find out how my work makes a difference, so that there will be something in which to take professional pride.
In a marketing job, taking ownership of the message would mean it is my message, the way it is for Penguicon. Penguicon taps into everything that I find worth living for in this world. Industrial cutting tools never will. This is why getting paid to do marketing is problematic for me.
So if I can't get to know those who benefit from my work, and therefore cannot cultivate caring about the quality of the website, I will circumvent the problem. I'll make my calendar care on my behalf, with a carefully planned set of automatically-repeating alerts to go ask people if they have something that needs putting on the site.
Comments
users on Oct. 30, 2007 11:40 PM
In your job, would you?
Actually, yes. At almost every job I've had. Any job I haven't felt that way about, I've quickly left for a new place of employment, because I become miserably quickly.
But that doesn't mean that I care about the mission of my employer, or their product, or any other facet of the job. I find enthusiasm for my actual job. When I'm writing software, my goal is to create software that make me proud to put my name on it. That helps me care.
Ultimately, I had to find a job that I love enough to stand on its own... where the "product" is something I'm enthused about as much as my role in the company.
blue-duck on Oct. 31, 2007 4:39 AM
I'll make my calendar care on my behalf Hah, now *that* sounds like the right track. And I applaud Jer for beign able to always go to a job he cares about - I have found in the past that it's not a luxury most people have. Though I'll keep seeking it for myself, certainly.
elizilla on Oct. 31, 2007 1:22 PM
In my job, I don't care at all about some things the managers care deeply about. Like billable hours. But I care deeply about the customers, I really want to help them. And that's enough. It's why I'll never be a manager, even if they were to offer it to me. I'd view a promotion as the Peter Principle in action, so even though I recognize "work from home" as an advancement-killer, I am still thrilled to be allowed to do it.
atropis on Oct. 31, 2007 9:50 PM
the making the message your own sounds like a good idea.
via caring about the specific people who are getting paid may be fruaght with pitfalls, depending on how you feel about that person or those people that day.
how to say something positive about the company you work for? the statement can then really be your own, if it's more or less exactly you that's making it up. and something positive should be workable enough since, after all, they do pay you. which may have less to do with compassion than gratitude.
it looks as if the problem itself is about how to really *want* to say something earth-movingly good about a range of jobs and services and humans.
could also consider looking at it as a reflection on your personal skill and good taste, like choosing the absolute right birthday present for the kind of person that says they don't know what they want for their birthday. an act of pulling inspiration out of an overview of relevant data. can tell it's complete when it sounds and feels good in thought context of all those affected.
or something.
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