Tag Archives: Office

Faith in Humanity

As much as possible, I try to focus on what is good in the world and to appreciate the generous and thoughtful actions of others. Sometimes, though, it’s hard to understand what motivates people to do the things they do.

For example, today the following happened:

  1. Someone decided to leave a disgusting mess all over the toilet seat in the washroom at work and didn’t even bother to flush. Surely the person must have known that wasn’t appropriate, so why do that in a place you work with others?
  2. A man ahead of me on the sidewalk deliberately tossed a food wrapper on the ground and kept walking without even looking to see if anyone was watching. He was metres away from a garbage container.
  3. I made the mistake of reading the comment sections on some online news sites. There are very few activities that can destroy one’s faith in humanity quicker than reading the online comments submitted by anonymous trolls.

On a positive note, two strangers running by on our street helped us to corner our puppy who had escaped from the house. They didn’t even bother to stop their watches first (that’s a big deal for runners).

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Names (and the Role of Memory)

My wife, R, can remember the names of the other children who were in her kindergarten class 35 years ago. She can do the same with most of her teachers and former classmates from Grades 1-12 and also from her undergraduate and graduate courses. However, sometimes she forgets the key details from books she read just a few weeks ago or movies that she’s already watched.

I can only remember the name of one teacher from public school (I’ll blog about why another time) and none from high school or university. I also can’t recall the names of my former classmates, even though I played with many of them on sports teams. I’m embarrassed to admit that sometimes I even forget (albeit temporarily) the names of the people I work with regularly in my office. However, when I was in school, I could easily memorize the information from my school text books, sometimes word for word. And while I struggle tremendously with names, I usually remember people’s faces and the conversations we’ve had, even if they happened many years earlier.

In social settings, the ability to remember names is viewed as a positive attribute. I don’t believe the same is true for memorizing conversations. Perhaps I’m easily forgettable, but sometimes I meet a person who doesn’t seem to recognize me but I can easily recall a conversation we had years earlier. It would likely just freak them out if I took a moment to outline the details of our previous discussion. Although, I suppose it’s quite possible that they’re just pretending not to remember me.

At work, I occasionally let people tell me the same news or information a second or third time, even though I know exactly what they’re going to say. I suppose that’s weird, but this lets me shift my attention away from their words and focus instead on their expressions and body language, which I’m not always good at interpreting.

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Strengths

Ever since K started kindergarten, R and I have attended annual spring meetings with the school leadership team to discuss K’s academic progress and to align on a plan for the coming year. In the past, we’ve generally received negative reports that focused on his social inhibition and his challenges keeping up with the curriculum. Tears have been shed at these meetings.

This year, however, is different. We’ve witnessed incredible academic and social development in K over the course of Grade 3, and today’s meeting with the school team was infused with hope and positive feedback. This is primarily due to K’s teacher, Ms R. Instead of focusing on K’s weaknesses, Ms R recognized early on in the school year that K possesses strong math and reading skills. Knowing that it’s tough for K to initiate conversations, she utilized his strengths by having him help others with math problems and partnering as a reading buddy. While K still needs help with abstract questions and concepts, and he’s not able to draw much of anything (much like his father), he’s progressing well with the key academic disciplines, his social skills are improving, and he even participated on the cross country team.

At this point, my biggest concern is that my son’s math skills are already more advanced than mine. I’m embarrassed to admit that I couldn’t understand some of his homework the other day. At least I won’t be one of those parents who always complete their children’s homework for them.

Today I’ve been challenged to think about how I can better utilize strengths and assets instead of focusing on needs and weaknesses. This is applicable to me as I engage with others at work as a supervisor and at home as a husband and father. It’s also an important lesson to employ internally as I reflect on how I view, value and speak to myself.

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Space Portals

At work today I was called down to our reception area to speak with a man who wanted to talk with our CEO. I’d already met with him last week, so he wasn’t pleased to see me again. He desperately wants to partner with our organization and invest $500 Trillion into the creation of a portal that will allow for space travel from one dimension to the next. He said that he’s already discussed this project with Trudeau, Putin and Trump (and apparently set in motion their elections 1,500 years ago) and feels passionately about including us in this opportunity. I had to firmly but politely let him know that while we appreciate the invitation, it is not possible for us to enter into this partnership with him. He seemed confused and disappointed by my unwillingness to discuss his proposal further.

The man appeared to be well-dressed and fed, so his basic needs are likely being met, but I felt sad that I couldn’t provide more support with his mental health challenges. He wasn’t aggressive or disruptive with me, but he is making some staff uncomfortable and nervous with his frequent visits to our office. Hopefully there is someone else in his life better equipped to offer assistance and a listening ear. Part of me wants to be more generous with my time, but I also know I can’t encourage him to keep coming to our office to speak with people about space portals and magical formulas to create currency.

It’s easy to say that I want to be a kind, compassionate and patient person, but some relationships and interactions with others are more complicated than following simple platitudes. Even though I’m well into my 40’s, it’s still challenging at times to know what is the right thing to say or do in certain situations. I guess I’m still a work in progress.

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One Box

Last week I packed up all of my personal belongings from my office and brought them home. After five years of working in the same large office space, I’d filled up the shelves with books, placed artwork on the walls, and arranged photo frames and trinkets on the desks (for some reason I have two desks and a meeting table, probably just to fill up the ridiculous amount of floor space). It felt so liberating to remove everything personal from my workplace.

When I first moved into this office I was embarrassed by its size; I often say to people that it’s larger than the first apartment I lived in when I got married. Now that I’ve removed the personal items I’d accumulated over the years, the office feels even larger, but it’s also become sterile and barren. This week I plan to replace the personal artwork with material from our recent advertising campaigns, so that should restore some vibrancy to the walls, but the art will now reflect the organization’s branding and not me personally. I think that’s a positive step for both me and my employer. I want to avoid any sense of entitlement or complacency at work. My office is not my home nor do I have any ownership over it. While I do want to feel valued and respected, I don’t want to be taken for granted—and I shouldn’t take the organization for granted either.

Today at home, I gathered a few books and put them in a small brown box along with a photo frame of my family and a personal item for my desk. These I will permit myself to bring back to the office. The personal item is a blown glass orca whale given to me by my mother after I completed my graduate studies and we travelled to Vancouver Island together for my convocation weekend. The orca reminds me of many things: the unfailing love of my parents; walking on Long Beach in Pacific Rim National Park where my brother’s ashes were scattered; and the accomplishment of receiving my master’s degree (the glass orca is much more beautiful to look at than a framed degree mounted on a wall). I’ve decided never to accumulate more personal items at work than I can quickly fit into one small box, which I plan to keep beneath my desk as a reminder.

I suppose if I was more courageous, I’d delete the previous two paragraphs and share the real reason why I packed up all of my personal belongings last week. Either way, I do feel more free.

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