Living a life with “shine” as the mantra didn’t mean we were covered in diamonds and dripping with pearls. It didn’t mean we didn’t have some bumps in the roads or hard times. It didn’t mean there weren’t days when a long walk off a short pier seemed like a more comfortable solution than digging in deep and doing the work...Read More
For nearly twenty-four years I've worked in offices of some kind or another. As a teenager, I worked in various doctors' offices. As a college student, I was an assistant in my school's law department. During grad school, I was a research assistant to several professors. After grad school, I settled into corporate life as I worked my way through three different organizations over the course of seventeen years.
Each place had different height cubicle walls, different ergonomic swivel chairs, different acronyms for team meetings, but by and large, all came with same basic nonsense. Yes, each came with a their own cocktail mixture of office politics, territory wars, egos, incompetent leaders, competent employees, pointless meetings, stacks of paperwork, bottomless inboxes, and constant change. The one thing you could get used to in all work places was that nothing stayed the same.
Just get used to a software? Guess what, we're upgrading this year! Like your new boss? She's so good, she's being promoted! Like your office? Super. But, we're gonna need that one for someone else. Yeah, about that job of yours...it no longer exists. Ba-bye.
Change is something we can all count on in. Being able to roll with it, makes for a good employee. Most of us get that. We know if we smile enough, nod politely, do a great job, and feign excitement every now and then, we're sure to get that gold star. Maybe a raise. (Who we kidding?) Okay, maybe we won't get fired or asked to "step down."
But, sometimes, yes sometimes, smiling, nodding, doing a good job, and feigning excitement become impossible. Sometimes it's all too much. Sometimes, people can be real jerks. They're human after all. And humans can lie. Humans can steal. Humans can deliberately harm other human beings, and it's time to say: Enough is enough. It's time to call in the top brass and get some help.
But what if they fail you too? What if they too know that the rules to stay ahead of the game are to smile, nod, feign excitement, and pretend everything is OK? Maintain the status quo at all possible costs, please. What if their job is on the line? Their reputation? Why would they put their neck out to help you?
It takes courage. It takes integrity. It takes a person who knows the right thing to do. It takes a supreme sense of justice, and a willingness to stand up and say: The buck stops with me. It takes a leader.
It takes someone like my dad.
Throughout those twenty-four years of work in an office, another thing besides change stayed the same: It was a picture I hung up next to me in every office that I've worked. It's the picture I have posted here of my dad, who was then a father of six (he eventually had eight). I am the one looking at him in awe.
And I still look at him in awe every day.
The reason I kept that picture by my side is this: Shortly after this picture was taken, two of his best friends died in a fire. That is what defined (for me) what a bad day at work was and always would be. It gave me perspective. It served as a reminder--that whatever I am experiencing at work or in life--it will never ever be as difficult or as intense as my father experienced it.
My dad had monumental bills to pay supporting eight kids--most of whom went not just to college but graduate schools and medical school as well. On top of that, he had days where he was unable to save a toddler from a swimming pool, or several children from a burning house, or a teenager from an engulfed car fire. He had days when he had to call home and tell my mom, my brothers, or my sisters that one of the people he saw die or seriously injured while he was on duty, was one of their friends.
Nevertheless, my dad went to work every day with a smile. He loved what he did. He always said, "I never went to work a day in my life, when I was a firefighter. It's not work when you love it."
My dad worked extra shifts. He worked long nights. He fought hard for his union and his men. He was no wilting flower. He earned his nicknames "The Pitbull" and the "Toxic Avenger" honestly. You didn't want to be on the wrong side of the argument that Phil Curran was fighting. He knew what was right, what was just, and he sure as hell wasn't going to back down. (Though as a teenager, I sure as hell gave it a try!)
Every time I thought I was having a bad day at work, I looked at my dad's picture. I looked at him balancing a baby on his lap, smiling, and not knowing that when he walked out of the door that day if it wouldn't be his last time. I thought of the lives he saved and touched. I thought about the battles he was willing to fight to make sure his men had access to health care and pensions. I thought of his inexhaustible sense of duty, his commitment to his family, his belief that work was one of the noblest ways to serve his Creator. And those thoughts centered me. They made me realize there are really no bad days at the office. Though when I saw injustices and things worth fighting for, that picture gave me courage. Granted I didn't need the kind of courage it requires to walk into burning buildings, but we all know that just living life requires courage all the same.
When I left my office job for the last time on Monday, the last thing I took was the picture of my dad that I had taped to my shelf. I looked at him and smiled. He got me through another day at the office. I thanked him for it. I thanked him for his smile. His compassion. His courage. I thanked him for the work ethic he instilled in me and in everyone of my siblings. I thanked him for giving me the ability to roll with the punches. To hold my head up high. I thanked him for showing me that when you do what you love, it's never work. It's a gift. It's an honor. It's just a another day at the office. Just a day. And the beauty of that is tomorrow is another one too. And if you're one of the lucky ones you get to wake up, and live it.
So I am happy to announce today, I am moving my Dad's picture to my own office. From now on, I too will never be going to work--because I'll be doing what I love--day and night: Writing and reading, reading and writing.
Thanks, Dad, for your courage, your bravery, your strength, your leadership, your willingness to fight the good fight, your hard work, but most of all, thank you for showing me how to live a life I can be proud of and spend every day doing what I love. Slainte.