Make More of Your Job

Communicating in the Same Language

This past week, I’ve been traveling internationally to several of my company's offices and, as usual with international travel, I’ve been reminded of the importance patience plays in good communication. When you’re in a country where you don’t speak the native language, your ability to communicate your exact intentions is sketchy at best.  Whether getting into a taxi or trying to arrange dinner reservations, your communication methods are shaky and require the grace and patience of those who you’re attempting to communicate with.

Throughout my international travels, I’ve found that nearly all human beings that I interact with are helpful and supportive when they realize that you’re trying to communicate without a language in common. However, there are those rare situations that illustrate what happens when patience is thrown out the window that truly illuminate how important patience is to communication.

In Stockholm, Sweden this week, I had just such an encounter.  Much of my family is from Sweden, and I’ve always found it to be a kind and accommodating country. It helps that a majority of the country speaks English to varying degrees. However, I got into a taxi the other night and suffered a major communication breakdown.

When traveling in countries where I don’t speak the language, I always take the time to write down the address of my destination before getting into a cab.  It keeps me from butchering pronunciations, which adds yet another barrier to communicating outside of my native tongue.  As I hopped into the taxi and showed the driver the address, he nodded and then rifled off a few phrases in Swedish.  I told him that I only spoke English. He clucked and threw his hands up in exasperation, but pulled away from the curb anyhow.

While his impatience with my language skills was discouraging, he seemed to know the address I was seeking, so I wasn’t too worried about it.  A few minutes later, however, my assumptions that the ride would be uneventful proved terribly wrong.

The cab pulled over on a residential street and the driver indicated that we had arrived.  Since I was looking for a restaurant, it was clear that we weren’t in the right place.  I tried, to no avail, to indicate this to the driver. To make matters worse, there was no street sign close, so I wasn’t even sure if we were on the right street.  I could see from the street numbers that we weren’t at the right address at all.  Several times, I tried pointing to the number on the closest house and pointing to the written address to indicate that it was wrong.  The cab driver quickly became irritated and kept pointing to the fare.  I stayed calm, but couldn’t find a way to get through to him.  After a few minutes his frustration escalated and finally got through to me with one of the few English phrases he seemed to know - "Get out."

On the street, I was dejected.  I didn’t see any other cabs coming by and wasn’t sure I was even in the right area.  I walked back towards where I'd come for a bit before I came upon a woman walking her dog.  I approached her and asked if she spoke English. No such luck. I’d managed to find one of the only other Swedes who spoke no English at all. 

This time, though, the situation was completely different. Right off the bat, she was kind and patient and seemed to be intrigued that I was American. After showing her the address, she motioned me to follow her.  She turned around in the opposite direction she was heading and walked several blocks to a main intersection.  She pantomimed “phone” handed me her dog’s leash and then popped into what must have been her home.  A few minutes passed and she was back out, cell phone in hand.  She mimed that she had called a cab, and touched her wrist (signaling "watch"), then held up five fingers.  The cab would be along in five minutes.

When the cab arrived, she leaned in the front window with my address and told the driver where to take me.  I thanked her and was off.  The driver, it turned out, spoke wonderful English, and told me that she had said that I was a visitor and he should take excellent care of me.

Finally I arrived at my location, a few minutes late, but much the better for the experience I’d had.  In just a few short minutes, I’d had two distinctly different interactions trying to communicate.  The first interaction was frustrating and made me feel powerless, the second was uplifting and reaffirmed my belief in the goodness of people.  I decided immediately to integrate those lessons into my life.

No matter how disparate the communication styles, it seemed there was no gap that patience couldn’t solve. As I’ve pointed out before on the pages of this blog, patience is not one of my strong points as an individual.  I’m constantly fighting the battle to balance my natural instinct for urgency with patience and not come off like a warlord. I committed to myself that I would try to never make someone feel the way that first cab driver had made me feel.

I thought about the times back home where I get short because I don’t understand someone’s point of view.  We may speak the same language, but that doesn't mean that we're communicating.  I thought about how much better I would be at my job if, instead of losing my temper, I tried to help the other person make their point, or even involved other parties (like my dog walker had the cab driver) to make sure the communication was complete. I never want someone to feel helpless, hopeless or useless when trying to communicate with me.  In the future, when communication issues arose, I would be more patient and more understanding of the way the other person must feel.

Ultimately, it took the kindness of a stranger in a foreign land to put the importance of patience in communication in such stark relief for me. For her, it may have just been an odd five minute engagement with a confused American.  For me, it was a lesson I will keep with me for a long, long time.

Patience is Virtue

I'll admit it, I'm not the most patient person in the world. But recently I've been getting a lot of opportunities to practice. About a week ago, I brought a new dog, Naya, home from a local animal shelter. And though every day has been wonderful, each one so far has been an ongoing exercise in patience.

The two most important things in my life are my career and my family, so I can't help but draw parallels between the patience required to integrate a new member into the family and the patience required to face the constant changes and developments of a great career. In both cases, you can plan for every contingency you can think up and you'll still inevitably be faced with challenges, frustrations, and puzzles that seem unsolvable. Though planning is important, it's really what you do when unexpected circumstances arise that really separates you from the pack. To have a great career, or a great home life, you need both preparation and improvisation. Only those of us that find a way to balance both sides of the equation will be able to maintain lasting results.

Here are a couple of lessons that I've learned since bringing Naya home that might help you stay balanced when trying to balance your life and career.

• Prepare for the worst-case scenario - I'm a complete optimist, but I always try to have a worst-case scenario in mind so I'm pleasantly surprised when things go better than planned. Naya is a rescue, which meant the shelter didn't even know her exact age (they think she's 10 months old) or whether or not she was housebroken. In order to prepare myself, I thought back to what our other dog, Narin, had been like as a pup. I remembered that a few "accidents" a day was the norm until he learned the rules. The good news is, it appears that did have some house training. but on the flip side, she's still a baby and we've had 1 or two slip ups a day. By being prepared for these, I don't lose my temper when the completely expected happens. When she has a good day, instead of assuming it's the norm, I'm thrilled.

Try the same tactic at the office. By preparing yourself for the worst-case scenario in any of your projects, you can really emotionally insulate yourself from overreacting when things go wrong.

• Stop living in the past - Things change every day, and focusing on how things used to be is totally unproductive. Narin, our first dog, who has always been quite calm, has grown more rambunctious and loves play-fighting and wrestling with his new sister since she came home. At first this was disconcerting, because it was behavior we were unfamiliar with, we worried that it might have been unhealthy or too aggressive, or one dog might get hurt. After a while I realized that were over-analyzing, they are dogs after all, and dogs like to play. It doesn't mean I'll stop watching to play it safe, but the equation has changed some, so the outcomes have changed as well.

This lesson is the same at the office when new people or responsibilities come into the picture. Be prepared that the introduction of something or someone new always has positive and negative on you and your coworkers. Don't spend your time trying to recapture what you had, because you can't. Start enjoying the good things and tackling the new challenges brought about from the new setup.

• Be understanding - Upon bringing Naya home, we had no idea what kind of life experiences have formed her thus far. Unfortunately, we suspect she was abused, but she's in decent health and mind. Over the first few days, she displayed some excessive shyness and aggressive protection of her food. Rather than push her to behave totally differently, we're adapting our game plan to bring her slowly around to our home's way of doing things. I'm well aware that the way we do it around here is probably strange to her, and quite frankly a result of the life experiences we have had.

I use this same strategy at work all the time. When I catch myself trying to make someone more like me, I take a step back and instead ask myself how and why they got to be like they are. You'll be amazed how much tolerance and patience you will gain from the process, you might even start to believe there are methods more productive than yours.

Perhaps the most interesting part of this process has been how much less daunting bringing a new dog home has been this time around. When Narin first came home, I had no idea what I was doing and everything seemed like a battle. This time, there are little hiccups, but most of the process has become old hat. With careful preparation, reasonable expectations, patience and adaptability, we'll manage to acclimatize to our new family dynamic pretty easily. That's another great benefit of staying patient and open to change - every time you work through a challenge, it's much easier to face, and conquer the next time around.

It's Your Company, Too.

I’ve talked on this blog before about how often I hear people complain about their jobs. While we all need to vent once in a while, what I’m constantly amazed by is how few of these complainers ever do anything about the problems they’re experiencing.

Much of my life is committed to trying to be the best at what I do everyday and making the most of my job. That doesn’t mean I don’t have complaints. But as someone who cares deeply about my job, my employees and my company, I am also committed to taking action when I think something is amiss. You see, I really do think of it as my company, and if I’m not willing to help things get better when they go awry, who will be?

Companies need employees who are beyond looking out for their own best interests. They should understand that their best interests will be served by watching out for the company. When I started at my current company years ago, we were small - fewer than 100 people. Today we’re more than 20 times as large, the leader of our industry, and expanding globally. Along with that growth come problems. But to me they aren’t the company’s problems, they’re my problems too.

As we grow, it’s natural that we run the risk of starting to act like a "big company." That may not sound like a problem, but in reality, it was acting like an underdog that got us where we are and it could spell disaster for us to lose that spirit. Now is no time to rest on our laurels. To stay number one it’s often important to act like you’re in dead last and are committed to moving up the ranks. So when I see “big company” behavior, I am the first to consider whether it’s smart, strategic or just the easy way out.

Occasionally we make mistakes, but when I notice that mistakes or being made or that we're heading in the wrong direction as a company, I don't have time to sit and gripe. I have to roll up my sleeves and help fix it. It’s always easier to point out, mock or complain about an issue than it is to try and solve one. But if a company has too many complainers and not enough doers, that company will be in real trouble in no time flat.

The closest comparison I can come up with is the person who complains endlessly about the effectiveness of an elected official, gripes about the corruption of government or moans about their taxes, and then doesn’t show up to the polls on voting day.

It doesn’t matter how you are informed you are about politics if you can’t be bothered to speak through your actions by stuffing your opinion into the ballot box. So vent your frustrations about your company, be critical about the actions you see developing around the office; but when something goes wrong, don’t stop at complaint. Do something about it.

After all, it’s your company too.

How Much Do Dreams Cost?

When I was a little kid, I wanted to grow up to be a superhero. I probably don’t need to tell you that that dream didn’t happen for me.  It’s true, the dreams we have as children are often unrealistic and unattainable.  As we grow up, we realize that things aren’t so easy and many of us even get to the point where we believe that dreams, as a category, are unattainable and not worth our time.  Nothing could be further from the truth.

In fact, I’ve always found that dreams are the biggest motivating factor in my professional life.   But unlike the pie-in-the-sky dreaming of our childhoods, being motivated by our dreams as adults takes deep understanding about what it will take to get us there.

I have a good friend (let’s call him "David") who often says that he dreams about being able to retire while his kids are still in high school. He remembers that, by the time he was that age, he rarely saw his father at all.  When he talks about this dream, it’s said wistfully, as if that dream is totally unrealistic. But the truth is, it’s not!

The last time he brought it up, I asked, “So what would it take to do that?”

“A lot," he said. "I’d have to be able to retire in 12 years.” I started peppering him with questions.  Here are some of the details I got as he answered my queries:

• He makes about 90K a year, and is unwilling to lower that number, even in retirement. It’s the lifestyle his family is accustomed to.
• In his late 30s, he has about 175K saved towards retirement.
• He puts 10% of his income away each year and his employer matches 3% of his income through his 401(k) plan.  That’s $11,700 a year he’s putting away.
• Over the past 5 years, his retirement accounts have averaged about 6.5% growth.

As we talked, I pulled out my laptop and plugged some numbers into a quick spreadsheet. With these numbers, he would end up with just under $600K as his first son entered high school.  At 6.5% returns, that would only generate about $39K in income a year, far less than his goal of $90K. 

“See,” David told me, “It’s just not going to happen.  Besides, I’d need way more than $90k, because if I was retired I’d have to pay for benefits out of pocket, not to mention college savings.  I’ll probably never get to retire.”

Not so fast, buddy. Click through to read how within reach his dreams really were.

Every Day is a Job Interview

Perhaps the best advice I received early on in my career was to think of every day at work like a job interview. I still run into instances today where I know this advice can be put to use in other people's careers.

A majority of the time, I take a suburban commuter train to my office in downtown Chicago.  Because these commuter trains run on a consistent schedule, you end up seeing the same group of people day in and day out on your train.  Over time, I’ve gotten to know a few of the passengers I ride with. One of the passengers on my train is a nice young guy, probably early 20s. Let’s call him "Joe." Occasionally, Joe and I end up on the same car and converse casually about current events and the like.  We don’t speak extensively about work, but we’ve talked enough for me to know that he’s an entry-level securities analyst for one of the larger firms here in Chicago.

He’s had the job for a little over a year, and in that time I’ve seen quite a change in Joe, and not for the better.  The funny thing is, his attitude hasn’t changed much at all. He still goes to work early, is always upbeat and generally energetic.  What has changed, and quite dramatically, is his appearance.

When I think back to the first few times I spoke with Joe, he was always well put together in a suit and tie.  This was around the time he started with his firm and it appeared he was doing his best to send a message to his employers that he was professional.  Over time, however, Joe lost the tie, then the suit altogether, and now it often looks like his shirts aren’t even ironed.

I don’t get the sense that he’s disillusioned with his job, but I definitely get the sense that he’s comfortable. That can be very dangerous.  One day last week, I ran into Joe on the train and he hadn’t even bothered to shave that day.  We have a lighthearted rapport, so I joked with him and asked if he had a rough night. 

To that, he said, “No, I never drink on a work night, but it’s not like I’m going on a date. Who do I have to impress?”

His nonchalant reply struck me. The truth is, if you’re trying to make the most of your job, you have everyone to impress. From the second you arrive at the office until the moment you leave at night, you are constantly being assessed by your peers and superiors. You never know who might notice your work ethic, behavior or even your appearance.  Despite seeming like a model employee, the fact that Joe implying that he doesn't need to appear professional for his role may end up hurting him in the long run. Especially in big firms where the higher-ups don’t even know everyone’s names, it can’t hurt to make the extra effort to be noticed and send the message that you are a consummate professional.

This was a golden opportunity for me to pass on the same advice I had been given at the same time in my career. I told him to think of his appearance as part of his everyday job interview and that he might want to consider picking the up the razor each morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m certainly no fashion plate myself, and I know that dress codes do vary widely depending on the office environment. But putting on a tie, a belt and a matching pair of socks, and shaving my face every day is the least I can do to show respect to the job and company that I love. Though I have my on days and off days like everyone else, I always try to treat my job like an ongoing interview and send the message every day that I am deeply committed to what I do.

I haven’t run into Joe again since our chat on the train, but I'm curious to see next time if he took any of my comments to heart.  If nothing else, it reminded me of how important the messages we send to others can be in our careers.  Just the simple process of thinking about these messages can help us to find ways to make the most of our jobs every day.

It’s not about being perfect. It’s about demonstrating your commitment through actions, appearance and attitude.  If you do that day after day, you will be noticed and rewarded.

Great Service Requires Passion

Last Sunday afternoon, I came across a particular example of how important it is to be passionate about the business you’re in.  I had some extra time before an appointment I'd scheduled, so I stopped by a local Corner Bakery, figuring I’d be in and out in no more than 15 minutes.

The first sign that this business wasn’t being run with passion was the way the line was moving -   not so much the speed of the line, but the enthusiasm level of the people behind the counter.  When a register opened up, each of the three cashiers would just stand there, staring at the line, waiting for the customers to realize that their register was open.  A simple friendly “Next in line!”  could have sped the process up by half alone.  As I often do in these situations, I started looking around to see how the rest of the business was functioning, and calculating the cost that lack of passion could be creating for the business owner.

When I made it to the front of the line, things got worse quickly.  The employee taking my order was mute throughout the process - no smile, no welcome, just a dour expression while punching in my order on his screen.  I took my order number and moved to a seat.

About 10 minutes later, an eternity in quick-serve restaurant time, I still hadn’t seen my food and had seen many people who ordered after me get their meals. I walked up to the counter and asked if my order would be up soon and was told it would take “less than a minute.”  I returned to my seat. Ten minutes later, I was back up at the counter asking for a manager.

The manager who came over was curt and clearly unhappy to be speaking with me.  When I asked if my salad was ready, she said, “Somebody already told you we were out of dressing and making more." I informed her that nobody had told me anything of the sort, at which point she said, “Well, we’re out of the ingredients we need so you’ll have to choose something else."

By this time I was late to the appointment I had scheduled, so I simply requested that they refund my money. The manager barked, “Fine, whatever.”  Throughout the entire process, the manager was extremely rude, so before I left I asked for the name of the franchise owner with the intention of writing them a letter about my experience. Only once I’d asked that question did the manager attempt to act pleasant, and all of the sudden insisted that I take $20 in gift certificates for my troubles. The end result for Corner Bakery: $10 in lost business for a refund, and an additional $20 out the door in an attempt to appease an unhappy customer.

Though the situation was handled poorly, it could have been completely corrected through simple, respectful communication. I didn’t want my money back, nor did I want $20 in gift cards. All I wanted was my salad.  If someone had merely been polite, or apologized, or offered to make a different one quickly, I would have happily left with a little bit of lunch and they would have kept my $10, and Corner Bakery would've kept their $20. For owners of small businesses, it doesn’t take a lot of $30 mistakes and irritated customers to create disastrous results.  Unfortunately, poor attitudes are just as contagious than great attitudes, and in business lack of passion is an epidemic that will doubtless leave your profit margins dead.

I'm not telling you this story simply to complain about not getting a salad I wanted. This instance, along with so many customer service nightmare experiences, demonstrate how easy it is for dispassionate employees to create total disaster in a business. Clearly this manager, who at one point had chosen to take on the responsibility of leading others, didn't love her job. That attitude, in turn, had trickled down to many of the employees beneath her.  I’m not placing all of the blame on this manager. Perhaps her boss enforces this same poor attitude. Perhaps she was having trouble outside of her job. However, if she were truly passionate about her job as a leader and manager, she would've used that passion to improve her attitude.

To me, my experience at Corner Bakery was an affirmation that good people with a lack of passion aren't helping anyone, including themselves.  Life is simply too short to spend time doing something that doesn’t stimulate you, and it has a ruinous effect on your peers, clients and business’ bottom line.  Everyone deserves the chance to work in a job that makes them happy, but to earn that chance sometimes takes the guts to admit that it's up to you to ignite your own passion. Allowing yourself or other dispassionate employees to remain in any position is a guaranteed losing proposition for all involved.

My experience reminded me that you can’t buy great service. That comes exclusively from people that are engaged in what they do for a living.  Finding a job you believe it is invaluable to your happiness and the success of the business you’re in, because no amount of gift certificates can make up for a lack of passion and pride in a job done well.