A supervisor who had recently become the Office Manager of a very busy State bureau came to see me – supposedly – about a personal problem at home. Truth was, she was checking me out because she’d been “nudged,” and told I might be helpful with her true problem  – managing people at work.

 For many years, she’d been the “trusty right arm” to her boss, a remarkable woman who’d been in her job fourteen years, and then abruptly had to leave due to Breast Cancer.  My client was the obvious choice for the battlefield promotion, but the truth was she wasn’t prepared for what the job really was: lion tamer.

Replacing that boss would have been hard under any circumstances, but my client somehow hadn’t been paying attention – while still, actually helping her boss succeed.  She tended to react off the top of her head, had trouble owning mistakes and apologizing, and some of the people she was alienating were not just the obvious, “usual suspects,” but were some of her most ardent early supporters and natural allies.

It turned out there were some problems at home. Her essentially good marriage was being strained by disagreements with her husband about handling their youngest daughter, who’d just bombed out of her Freshman year at college (costing a lot of un-refundable money) was now unemployed, and sleeping-in most mornings.

From the EAP standpoint, taking up the “home front” part was fairly straightforward – a meeting with my client and her husband, focusing on the need for both of them to stay on the same page, be both understanding AND jointly focused with their daughter, stay concrete, create strategies with timelines, but – above all – to commit to consistent follow-through.

Meanwhile back at the workplace, as so often happens, events were racing ahead.  A mini-delegation had already gone over my client’s head, to her boss – essentially conveying unhappiness and anger at what it was like to deal with her.  To my client’s eternal credit, her reaction was more hurt than anger, defiance, or disdain – the far more common reactions I see from others in roughly similar situations.

With that as our point of departure she was able to fess up to how “anxious” she’s been - ”not just recently” - but nearly all of her life.  She realized that watching her boss had been like being front row center for a virtuoso performance she took for granted . She admired it, and was gratified to be associated with her boss’s “success,” but in hindsight now realized she had “no clue” how her boss had pulled it all off.  My client was wired differently, and just couldn’t “ever put up with so much nonsense” without getting judgmental, upset, and unable to hold it all “in my anxiety-laden head.”

To make a long story short, our coaching focused on listening skills – especially including listening to herself – managing feelings, learning to not be afraid to not know something, and developing a slightly more collaborative approach.Simply having someone – not her direct supervisor – with whom she could speak from the heart about situations she hadn’t prepared for, but were now “on top of me,” made a huge difference.

She became more relaxed, which was sensed in the workplace almost immediately. I actually got a grateful, handwritten note from one of my client’s co-workers saying that the atmosphere was 100% better since my client had come to see me, and that others in the office were also very appreciative of the changes, and wanted her to tell me so.

Post script:

It turns out that the person who wrote the note had also been an EAP client, and was the one who’d lobbied heavily that her colleague make an appointment to see me. Behind the scenes at work she’d also been a voice of moderation and patience, which had helped steer things away from a total wreck.

I wish I could say they all lived happily ever after, but it seldom quite works that way. Things were better, and the entire office undoubtedly benefited from the small but real changes my client achieved. But it wasn’t a total metamorphosis, and the truth was she never really got comfortable managing such a busy, relentlessly boisterous operation.  And by the way, her own direct supervisor watched it all happen without saying a thing, or being any help at all. 

She weathered the storm with dignity, picked her moment, and then slid sideways into a smaller, quieter department just shy of the second anniversary of her promotion. Of course, part of what makes it memorable was the “thank you” note – they obviously don’t come very often.

 But that case highlights how helping a supervisor has a direct impact on the people affected by that supervisor. Many good, competent people need a safe place where they can talk and think about their real problems supervising live people.

Coaching works.

When I read business articles, I often get the feeling that the work world I see isn‘t quite what those folks are thinking of when they write about the workplace.

The problems they focus on always somehow seem the same – either non-strategic thinking or poor communication, or both. As I read, in my minds eye I see focused people with careers they’re pursuing and mortgages they’re paying, and it’s just that, according to the article, somehow things aren‘t quite coming together. So there‘s all this potential lying there waiting to be unleashed – if only management would get it right.

Enter – stage left – the right person, or the right management idea, or both.

I suppose I might be exaggerating a tad, and maybe it‘s nothing more than the feeling that they’re writing about a parallel universe where virtually everyone’s a professional, or at least has work skills, and knows the basics of adult functioning like shaking hands, returning phone calls, making minimal eye contact, wearing clean clothes, and using deodorant.

At some of the workplaces I’ve been called to consult, nothing could be taken for granted. I remember sitting in a conference room with a freshly promoted young supervisor having a very animated discussion about basic things like the need to give regular feedback, respond early to identified problems, while also addressing her anxiety about doing performance reviews.

We could look out onto a floor full of cubicles, and as we talked, a small squad converged around a particular one. My new supervisor shook her head and said, “We found rotting food in her file drawers, and unopened mail from months ago. “

I’m not suggesting that happens every day, but there are many, many workplaces where the human condition runs rampant in all its multi-faceted richness. “The Office” and “Dilbert” cartoons capture a slice of it, but a lot of what I see isn’t that funny. Pecking order stuff, raw aggression, dysfunction, and pure venality occur with sad regularity across the fruited plain.

Paradoxically, for some people work actually is “home” – a sanctuary, a model of sanity and reliability contrasting with the train wreck back at their own residence.

This can’t simply be dismissed as the other world of low-enders, where most wouldn‘t be caught dead.

Many of us have been there, are there now, or have siblings, cousins, and even children who are in that world.

Helping line managers do their tough jobs has only partly – if ever – been about “thinking outside the box.“

In fact, It‘s mostly about keeping your own concentration, and behaving like the person you aspire to be, despite what‘s happening in front of you, all the while learning, improving, and planning your “strategic” exit when the time is right.

It may sound a bit schmaltzy, but it really has been an honor and a privelege to occasionally be able to help some of those folks.

Every once in awhile I dream of coming up with some phrase that’s so memorable and evocative, I can copywrite it. Then it would get picked up out there somehow, create some “buzz,”, generate a ton ideas and comments – as well as a bestselling book. So far, no luck.

But I was leafing through some notes having to do with employees describing what made a good boss, and I noticed how often what got said connected to feeling “encouraged” to stretch, take something new on, and so many times the boss had more confidence in the employees than they did in themselves.

I’ve also noticed that some managers are “naturals” – almost effortlessly good at explaining a goal or a project so that the employee “sees” what’s expected while also feeling assured it’s “do-able.”

It’s a real skill to combine describing the process, anticipating the trouble spots, assuring support and adequate resources, and accurately describing the good outcome long before it happens. When a supervisor handles it well, it results in less anxiety (which means better initial listening and comprehension), less outright resistance, and a much higher probability of overall success.

Some supervisors are just more comfortable dealing with human nature – in all its splendor – than some others. For some, displays of anxiety or self doubt are weaknesses not suitable to a workplace – and some barely hide their true feelings behind that manufactured smile.

Most supervisors have been around long enough to recognize that not all line employees share their commitment to the job– but the “naturals” are consistently slower to be irritated or get exasperated at employees for being so needy – a repeat of instructions, say, or yet another reassurance about real and imagined “problems.”

Relaxed supervisors smile through the initial static, then slowly, appreciatively – but relentlessly – expect people to perform and the job to get done.   Their message:

“We can do this.”

Dear Ray:

I remember our last chat in the lobby outside the auditorium waiting for the main speaker to close out the conference. You seemed a little wistful compared to our previous encounters, and I wondered whether being up to your Adams apple in clients now is more of a cold shower than you’d anticipated.

As I drove away, I knew I wanted to send you a short note of support, and, if it doesn’t bother you, pass along some tidbits from my experience that might apply to what you’re going through now. I’m sure you’ll ultimately be fine with the clients, but it is a bit of a jolt to see how unattentive, or unreliable, seemingly uninterested in their own problems, unappreciative, and how truly damaged so many are. Not all, as I know you know, and I also know you have plenty of clients you do, very much, look forward to seeing.

Still, there’s always some disillusionment that happens when you’re geared up to engage a client, and then receive very little real energy for that engagement coming toward you. We tend to imagine ourselves having these wonderful, dynamic sessions with our clients – validating their struggles, emphasizing strengths, and by the respect and attention we give to their life stories, affirm the existence of hope – for them, and yourself.

Sadly, it can start to feel less like active treatment, and more like custodial care – or even worse, a cynical, going-through-the-motions paperwork process. Some show up (maybe) and therefore continue to earn the DSM – IV diagnostic label you give them, which means that the government money is released and pays Medicaid, or SSI disability, etc. – as well as your salary, your boss’s salary, and the cost of the paperclips.

You’ll get past that, but first you have to go through it.

Respecting clients DOES matter, of course. Just like everyone else, they can sense your true state of mind, and how you really feel about being there with them for that session. I’m certain you’ll navigate all of this, sort out the real from the ideal, and reconcile yourself to it. Think of it as “tempered idealism.”

Your colleagues may be a different matter, however, and that’s where it can be especially hard. I’ve told you how fortunate I was that my first job was virtually a textbook model for “how it ought to be.” We were there for each other, we talked cases, we talked ideas, we fretted about the patients together, we went out for beers after the shift. It was great – and it’s been downhill ever since.

These days, it’s more like another workplace, not a sanctuary for healing, and maybe that’s simply unavoidable. Your colleagues, like you, make their own peace with the work, and then, often without realizing it, become disengaged from all the anger, sorrow, fear, and despair. It shows up in the lack of interest in talking about cases or engaging in professional collegiality, going home at the dot of 5:30, and a pervasive, but usually cheerful cynicism about virtually everything.

But you’ll notice right away, there will be some colleagues who stand out, and rise above. They fight the cynicism, they like the clients, they like the work. Respond to them, Ray. Support those people. Say thanks to those people. Cherish those people.

As I reflect on who “makes it,” it seems to boil down to a combination of temperament, curiosity, experiential reinforcement, and sometimes nothing more than pure dumb luck with some of the early cases. I remember an enthusiastic young colleague I was sure had the right stuff for the long haul, but she was unlucky, and got caught in a buzzsaw – a particularly sick client, poor supervision, paperwork that wasn’t bad (but could have been better), a family out for blood, and lawyers hovering. She crawled away.

You feel like someone wired to go the distance, Ray. Who knows. You’ll want to develop a style as freed-up as possible, while maintaining that reliable professionalism. As you know I began evolving my Coaching techniques in the late 80′s, and it kept me going in clinical work for years.

You do need to have that emotional energy to go in each day, sleeves rolled up, knowing what you do is important, and engage, listen and learn, teach, advocate for hope, really try to make a difference … and then you need to drop the ball, go home to your family, and make a good life for yourself there. You’ll pick up the ball the next day.

It’s meaningful, noble work, Ray. Truly. And, who knows – you may have the right kind of wiring, enough savvy, and the ambition to someday parlay your experiences and real, hard-won skills into a thriving private practice – writing, speaking, coaching, teaching, or consulting.

For now, it’s dues time. Case after case.

Learn. Be present. Give.

I’m betting you won’t regret it.

Warm regards,

Shaun