And The World Kept Spinning

Thursday was by far the worst day I've experienced in my phenomenally lucky and blessedly happy life.

Wanna know what happened? I got promoted to run a department of approx. 10 people, and NYAB was reassigned to a more editing-intensive job.

Counterintuitive, right?

I also saw 30 good friends and colleagues laid off. People I've known for 10 years, people I trusted to babysit the Young Prince when he couldn't even sit up, people I hired, people I mentored, people I am deeply invested in and loved seeing every day. I felt horribly, awfully responsible. It was hard to make eye contact.

I'm not a Kennedy, it seems. It felt like I spent a lot of time crying and trying not to cry and hiding so I could get it together and stop crying. And feeling like an ass for doing it, because there I was, with a shiny new set of keys to the kingdom sitting wrapped in a big red bow on my desk. What right had I to be upset? Such gall. Such unprofessional behavior.

As more details emerged, I was further disappointed. Thursday was the first day I've ever been anything less than proud to say I work where I work.  I trust and believe that the people in charge set up the day's operations in the way they felt was best and caused the least pain. I am sure they chose what they felt was the best of a series of terrible options. And absolutely, there ain't no good layoff and there ain't no good chain gang. But it makes me sad, because I don't think any of the announcements, for those staying or leaving, were made in a particularly humane fashion.  It was swift, it was brutal, and it was over, that is true. Not a single minute of anxiety more than necessary.  But it was also incredibly public, almost ruthlessly impersonal and devastating for a group of people who hail from an extinct company that prided itself on its heart and soul. 

There were strange outbursts. There were lingerers. There was a wake afterward.

And now, those of us left move forward in a new culture, with a new structure and new teams of co-workers, but with the same directive to produce more and better. I'm good with directives. I'm good with teamwork. I'm good when I'm too busy doing to leave time for thinking.

So next week will be different. Next week will be busy.

In the meantime, my kid politely waited until the dust had settled and held off on coming down with a vomitous stomach bug until this morning, so I'll be busy with that til Monday.  And on Monday he will be better, just in time for Grandma and Grandpa to roll into town and serve up free babysitting while I spend almost every waking minute of the next two weeks hacking out underbrush for a new path to success.  

The good news is, I have a great team. The people I kept, the people who folded in under me, they are all star players and proved their worth on Thursday, when all hell was raining down around them and yet one sacrificed her first day of vacation to cover the shift of the person we lost, another signed on early and stayed late, and the rest acquitted themselves with grace and style and zero errors. I'm incredibly excited about the people on the team I'm going to be lucky enough to lead, and where I think we are going to be able to go.

But it's still a hard, hard thing to do -- letting go, moving on, figuring it out. I have a feeling it's going to stay with everyone in that building for a long time to come. And that's going to be the hardest part. Dealing with a group of people whose reactions include survivors' guilt, outrage at betrayal, relief, etc., is going to make it very hard to keep a forward focus. I don't know how we're gonna do it, but I do know that we can if we so choose. Here's hoping everyone does... 

Comments

[GSP]

If you have to choose between being unprofessional yet human and professional can cold, human is still better, even if it is unprofessional. You are too good a person not to be affected by all this.
(Oh God. Are you Affected or Effected? Or both?? Forgive me O Grammar Gods....)

[Mary]

I really feel you on this. Hang in there, AB.

[Amanda]

Sorry to hear that something that should be so exciting for you comes at such a heavy price to so many good people. Don't let survivor guilt weigh you down too much. This may be just as much an opportunity for growth, for them to explore other options and examine where they are and where they want to go as a hard hit. It's up to them to decide how they react.

[average blogger]

:) Thanks, you guys. It is nice to get validation from people who count. :D