It’s a matter of perspective

It’s June 2021 – roughly 13 months since life in the US pretty much stopped and we all wondered what the hell was next. Surely lockdowns wouldn’t last more than a couple of weeks. Surely people would recognize the public health was more important than politics. Surely we’d all be okay.

Well, some of those things are true. Lockdowns lasted a hell of a lot longer than two weeks (and many people around the world are still experiencing them). Many people recognized that wearing masks, social distancing, and getting vaccinated were an important part of helping society get past this…but certainly not all people felt that way, even those we assumed would be first in line. And while most people who got sick recovered, not everyone was okay.

While we were all in the middle of this, it was really hard to have perspective on what was going on. I know we took it a day, a week, a month at a time. As more people get vaccinated and society starts to open up, we’re stepping back into our routines – some with no hesitation at all, others with more caution. We’re sort of in the middle – we got vaccinated as soon as we could, we wore masks for a week or two after the CDC said we didn’t have to, and now we’ve pretty much gone back to our old lives. Admittedly, we have done so with increased social distancing and a permanent supply of hand sanitizer.

I don’t think, though, we have taken a moment to collectively look back at what we’ve been through – at the complete and utter stoppage of life as we knew it, and at the emergence of cautious optimism for the future. This hit home when I was finishing up transferring some newsletter posts to a website refresh at work. Nothing terribly profound in the activity – but as I moved from the most recent newsletter to those written back in January 2020, the change was striking.

Posts from January 2020 were so optimistic and forward-looking – new year, new focus, LET’S DO THIS. Then we started seeing the reality of what was going on, and posts were more about staying safe, providing resources, and simply surviving – both personally and professionally. The middle of the year was a complete 180-degree turn from where we had started the year, like we fell off a cliff. Recently, the focus is back to business, back to looking forward, back to the wider world.

As someone who majored in history (true story!), I am so curious as to how future generations will look back on this period of time. What records will survive? How will they judge the way things were handled? In 100 years, what will society even look like? Were we irretrievably traumatized by the harsh relief of many of our fellow citizens exposing their true selves? Were we inspired by the utter selflessness of so many of our fellow citizens continuing to fight for the truth and decency? What perspective will distance lend?

I hope we – and I mean the global ‘we’ – don’t move on too quickly from what has happened. I hope we take some time to look back and marvel at the highs and mourn the lows. I hope we see this for what it is – a real-world scenario of what might (and did) happen if the world population is threatened. And I hope we recognize we could have done better.

We need to do better.

We need perspective.

Too much crazy

Today, another person I respect and adore decided to take a hiatus from social media. This is something like the third or fourth person (that I know of) in the last 6 months.

There are a lot of reasons people take time off from social media. Some want to spend more time with family. Others realize it’s keeping them from doing what they love (reading books, painting, overthrowing governments, etc.). And one very special person claims quitting Facebook it has helped him learn to move 10 lbs objects with his mind. (He’s totally lying – he’s only managed 4 lbs, and that’s being generous.)

The most common reason I’ve heard lately, however, is that there is just too much crazy.

People can’t seem to be civil anymore. The 24/7 news cycle has turned every little thing into an “event.” And many wake up in dread over what may or may not have been tweeted overnight.

They might have a point. There are numerous studies suggesting that quitting Facebook – even for just one week – has benefits. Middle school students may be particularly susceptible to issues with social media, with online bullying becoming a real danger for kids as young as 10. They’ve even come up with a new term – bullycide – for when a child takes his/her own life because of bullying. It’s heartbreaking.

I’ve contemplated taking a break. I haven’t because most of the people I know I communicate with online (#introvert). But I have cut back. And I find myself avoiding crazy as much as possible – it’s too exhausting. Not everything needs to be an argument, and not every post needs a dissenting opinion.

I think the way people are interacting online right now is a mix of opportunity and motive. Online comments lend anonymity and distance and accountability is almost nonexistent. And as for motive? There are a lot of people out there who have either felt they never had a voice and then found it, or have always had a voice and think everyone needs to hear it.

It’s unfortunate – we’re like kids who broke the expensive toy because we couldn’t respect it. Or because we played with it too much and it fell apart. I worry because I see how we interact online bleeding over into our real world interactions, and it’s getting ugly. I also worry because all the noise can block out all the good that the internet can enable.

I hope the crazy calms down. I hope those who are struggling with memories and feelings that the relentless news cycle brings are able to find peace. I hope we find a way to talk instead of yell.

I hope we keep finding funny cat videos to share online. (Thug Cat is THE BEST.)

I hope we find ways to remind each other that the world is a beautiful place and that people are worth saving.

If you need a break, take it. But please come back.

We need you.

 

I hate your sunshine.

During a recent #Nextchat, the conversation turned to making sure current employees were honest about what life was like at the company when talking to candidates. I think I said something clever like, “Life isn’t always sunshine and rainbows at any org, no matter how great it is.” Then Anne Tomkinson (a co-host of the chat) said something even MORE clever, “And you also never know what is positive or negative to someone. They might hate your sunshine.”

And while my life goal is to now have a situation in which I can turn to someone and yell, “I HATE YOUR SUNSHINE!”, I also love what Anne said. Because she’s right. Something you find fantastic at work, another person may hate.

Let’s take open floor plans.

Some people love them – they think they foster creativity, collaboration, and create a bright, open atmosphere that makes the office great to be in. And then there are normal people who just want to be able to close a door and get some damn work done every once in awhile.

See? Someone hated your sunshine.

Leadership styles aren’t immune from this, either. You may think a hands-off approach is the best way to work. All employees want a manager who stays away until needed, right? Believe it or not, there ARE employees out there who want a little more direction and guidance on their day-to-day work and wouldn’t see it as micromanaging. They’d see that as support.

Sunshine hated once again.

As leaders, we have to be careful that we aren’t forcefeeding sunshine to our employees. We have to be aware of the different preferences in our workforce. We can’t always accommodate them (sorry, you can’t really wear pajamas all day…), but we can at least stop trying to get them to love the same things we do. Be realistic, for goodness’ sake.

That whole credibility issue leadership seems to have in so many organizations can be tied to our inability to recognize how our people actually feel about things that are going on at work. It’s OKAY for you to think it’s awesome that the cafeteria is moving to healthy food only. You can even tell people that you think it’s awesome. But don’t try to persuade people who hate the idea. Just say, “I get it. It’s not for everyone.” And move on.

Sunshine is subjective. As soon as leadership recognizes that, we’ll be in a better position to build trust and credibility with our teams.

And that should bring a little sunshine to all of us.


Author’s Note: If, like me, you immediately started singing Len’s Don’t You Steal My Sunshine upon reading this article’s headline, I truly apologize. It will take you roughly 72 hours to remove it from your brain.