We were honoured at Workplace Trends this year when US author Cara Long (@Very_very_red) kindly wrote some short stories to act as introductions to Workstock's Pecha Kucha session (20 slides, 20 seconds each).
Cara has recently published her first published short story collection, Partly Gone. It touches on the impact of grief, love, sorrow, and hatred experienced in the everyday lives of characters who may or may not be prepared to handle the outcomes of their choices.
Our thanks also to Helen Berresford of ID:SR for reading the stories so eloquently, and to our morning chair, Neil Usher, aka Workessence, for introducing us to Cara.
Here are the stories from the day in full...
[John Husband] How We're Bound
I came unglued some time ago. I can’t be precise with the details of how it happened, but one day I looked up from my desk and had trouble recognizing things, familiar things. Sure, I knew what the stapler was, I knew what paper was, but I didn’t know how it was, and I certainly didn’t recognize the point of any of these things. I stood up from my chair, did a quick scan of the office, and found your eyes watching me. I recognized you. You gestured with your eyes toward the break room. I walked in after you. You poured me a mug of fresh coffee and said, “We get rusty sometimes. It’s okay. Just pick up the things you don’t understand, take them apart, and put them back together again.” I asked you how you knew, and you said that after we fall apart we become linked to all the others who have just fallen apart. “We’re the glue,” you say.
[Lloyd Davis] Against Confinement
The interview didn’t start out good, but I’ve reached the point in my career where I care far less about questions concerning what kind of fit I think I am for a company. Two people greeted me, a man and a woman, and they escorted me into an interview room. The company must have been on a beige kick because their suits matched both the carpet and the table. I had to keep blinking so they didn’t morph into one giant ball of beige. The third question they asked me is in what kind of environment I felt I worked best. I said in one where there’s just enough structure to encourage something to happen. And no more. They looked at me for a moment, and I finally stopped blinking. Interesting, the woman said, then excused herself for a moment. She returned wearing a bright blue scarf and coral colored belt.
[Perry Timms] More Yellow
My boss hands me a sheet of ideas – I work as a graphic designer for a window treatment manufacturer – and says, “Make it what you feel is right.” Normally, I would embrace this as it is the type of freedom designer’s lust after. But this is a new boss, and even though he’s in charge, this position, we’ve been made to understand, is a step down for him. He had been the president of his own firm, but he sold it when he developed stress-related health problems. He took a job he didn’t care about because “everyone should be productive.” He’s the type to tell you to make something more yellow without using yellow. I look at the ideas he’s written down, complete with abstract doodles, and then I put my head in my hands. I take a minute to feel bad for myself before I look up and say, “Challenge accepted, asshole.”
[Gareth Jones] No More Than You
The power of you – it’s the theme of this year’s executive training sessions, which start tomorrow. Yes, I’m dreading it. My husband asks why, and I explain that I don’t fit in with the others. You’re a senior vice president, he says. Yes, I say, but I don’t wear shoulder pads. Everyone else is wearing shoulder pads. He gives me a disbelieving look. I shrug. It’s true, I say, Whether or not you believe it. The next day I have my first one-on-one training with the Chief Financial Officer. She’s always been rather chilly toward me, but today she’s warm and praises my reporting. You know what I like about you, she says to me as I’m leaving her office, you don’t blend in with all the others. Thank you, I say, and stand up a bit straighter, shoulders squared.
[Janet Parkinson] In the Midst
We are not prepared, she says, leading the team meeting, and if we are not prepared then we are not effective. Some of the attendees shift uncomfortably in their chairs. She relaxes her posture a bit. I’m not holding any one of you personally responsible, she says, But we are in the midst of a new era, and while we’ve been saying that for years, we’ve done very little to actually live in it, to inhabit it. She sees confusion on their faces. This is what I mean, she says, suddenly twirling in her chair (she does this to lighten the mood.) Lighten up, people, she says. Come on! We’re living in a social world, a networked world, and we, the very people charged with making business decisions, are too nervous to make those decisions. Their faces are largely unchanged, on some she can see actual dread. I’m cutting this meeting short, she says, and stands up. I want each of you to take today and go out and live. Let’s talk about that experience tomorrow.
[Andy Swann] You're Not as Boring as You Think
Production manager. How on earth did he ever grow up to become a production manager? It’s not even a career one conceives of. No one ever comes into school for Career Day and talks about how awesome it is to be a production manager. He reviews some paperwork on his desk. Day after day he worries after the efficiency of this company, a company, which, by the way, has given him a job that makes him sound like some shoddy office wimp to his children. They didn’t want him to come to Career Day. He could tell. They came home with the forms and went straight to their mother. Why? Because Firefighter sounds cooler than production manager. Everyone knows what his wife does as soon as she says it. Oh firefighter, yes. Automatic hero cred. Production manager? Eyes glaze over.
He receives a text from his daughter. It says, “Dad, you never filled out the Career Day form. I told all my friends you would come. Please call the school and say you’ll come.” He calls the school, tells the secretary he wants to speak at Career Day. And your job, the secretary asks. Production manager, he says, somewhat proudly.
[Richard Martin] Nothing in Isolation
Mr. Boyle says, We have a mixture of goals at this company and we stress partnership, collaboration, and cooperation to achieve these goals. Phil shifts in his chair, says, I understand. But he doesn’t, not quite. Mr. Boyle continues, Should you be offered a position here, we would expect you to be as comfortable leading a team as you would be working as a member of that team. Roles change, projects change, but purpose unites us. Mr. Boyle uncrosses his legs. And we prefer not to assign roles, but for employees to assume roles based on their own strengths and weaknesses. Phil asks if Mr. Boyle would like him to talk about his strengths and weaknesses. No, Mr. Boyle says, I want you to talk about how your strengths and weaknesses connect. Phil draws in a breath. That’s a somewhat new question, he says. Indeed, Mr. Boyle says, but they have always connected – nothing can be treated in isolation. Phil’s mind flashes back to his last cycling race – he remembers the rush he felt at the start, seeing the other riders, the spectators, the vendors. He remembers feeling both his strengths and his weaknesses well up inside him. He decides to talk about that.
[Euan Semple] Please Don't Be Quiet
I'm working out loud, Sharon declares from her desk. I’m using my thoughts and my words to create meaning! She pumps her fist in the air. Evan, who is standing at the copier, asks her if she’s okay. Never better, she says, How about you? He looks at her for a few seconds without blinking. I’m just trying to be more productive, she says. I’m trying, you know, to connect the dots. Evan says, We work in a basement. He finishes his copying and walks away. Sharon imitates him at her desk. Does she sometimes feel confined by her workspace? Yes. Does she believe that that should prevent her from trying to get more out of her work? No. What did you make the copies for, Evan, she calls out over her desk. Evan answers back, They’re for the meeting tomorrow. May I take a look, she asks. He walks over with a copy. Sure, whatever, he says, handing it to her. She first reads it silently, then out loud. She jots down a few ideas, then talks them out. She calls Evan over, and says, I had some thoughts. Tell me what you think. At first, Evan listens, unimpressed, but then he pulls up a chair. I like this, he says after a while. It’s actually helping me connect the dots.
[Anne Marie McEwan] Beyond the Bollocks
Never mind the bollocks, she says, snickering to herself. It’s how she usually calls a room to order, but in a room full of Americans, only a handful get the reference. The rest snap to attention like they’ve just gotten into to trouble with the teacher. Right, she says, let’s dive right in then, shall we? What consequences has the global workplace created for us? She scans the room. Silence. Anyone, she asks. Okay, she says, let me put it to you differently: how have your skills changed over the last ten years? One woman raises her hand. Yes, she says to her. I’m more connected now, the woman says, I know more about social media and social technologies. Yes, she says, And how has that helped us – all of us – move our work and our workplaces forward? Silence again. I see we have our work cut out for us, she says, then repeats: Never mind the bollocks. Empty stares. We’re going to talk about what that means and move forward from there. She stands up from her chair and moves forward, into their space, breaking the invisible line.
[Brian Condon] Breaking Down Barriers
If I’m sitting here, he says, and you’re sitting there, and a thick, concrete wall separates us, how do we communicate? We shout to each other, she says, only half-jokingly. He frowns. Alright, alright, she says, We get up and move around the wall or, barring that, we dismantle the wall. Right, he says. Let’s think about dismantling the wall. How might we do that? We’d need the proper tools, she says, And a knowledge of the properties of concrete wouldn’t hurt. Okay, he says, let’s say we have that, we have the tools, we know how concrete behaves and we’re able to take down the wall. What next? Well, I suppose we’d introduce ourselves, she says. But haven’t we already, he asks. Didn’t we just work collaboratively to take down a wall? She sighs and asks him what he’s trying to get at. My point is: you must always recognize creativity, your own and that of others. It is the only way we move forward, particularly in challenging times.
[Doug Shaw] A Conversation
Can we lament the good old days for a minute, she says, When people were more than just their sound bytes. He looks at her. We do this too often, he says, And frankly, we’re too young to do this. When is the last time you had an actual, real conversation at work that was about work, she asks. Not complaining, not giving or being given a set of tasks, but a conversation about what you’re doing, why you’re doing it, and how to best go about doing it? He bites his lip, thinking. I honestly don’t know, he says. Right, she says, And you don’t think that’s a problem? She continues without waiting for a response from him. I stopped a meeting the other day – actually interrupted the project manager – and asked her to remind us of why we were taking the steps we were taking. And do you know what? She had to think about it. She sits back in her seat, satisfied with herself. Thinking is always good, he says. No, she says, Being reminded of what you’re doing, and refreshing yourself as to the reasons, that’s always good. And it’s the only reason why we’re here.