Redefining Corporate Politics and Career Growth – shifting the route

As nightfall does not come all at once, neither does oppression. In both instances, there is a twilight when everything remains seemingly unchanged. And it is in such twilight that we all must be aware of change in the air however slight, lest we become unwitting victims of the darkness.

Redefining Corporate Politics and Career Growth – shifting the route

I hate Mondays. This Monday was shaping up to be even worse than normal. I had no idea, but it would be even worse before it ended.

I like to get to work early on Mondays. Not because I love my job, but because it's when the project status reports come out. I like to get in early and find out how my projects are doing. I wish I could say it's because they are full of great news. They aren't. For the last 2 months, they've been full of the worst possible news. My sick obsession has been to get in early and be the first one to hear the bad news.

This week, however I had to fight through a nasty accident on the freeway. If I wanted, I probably could have checked the news on my phone. Cell coverage on the freeway is pretty good. But I just knew that checking my e-mail on the way in would only result in me becoming part of the accident that was turning the high speed lane into a parking lot.

So I resisted the lure of the phone in the seat next to me and focused on driving. But it meant that I didn't walk into the office until almost 8:30. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as I walked down the hallway to my office. Maybe they weren't looking, but I was self conscious enough to imagine that they were. I nodded to Janice who supports the Software Development Department. She nodded back, face neutral.

I'll bet Janice has read the summary already, and knows what's in store for me.

You probably think I'm making too much out of this. I don't think so. I'm a manager in the Software Development department as a mid sized firm. We live and die by our numbers here. Metrics mean life. As a manager, I'm responsible for 3 medium-to-large projects. It's my job to ensure that they come in on time. As I've suggested already, my track record this year isn't very good. All three projects have had a "red" status for the last 8 weeks. As a manager, I don't like what that says about me.

A few minutes later I was reading the grim news. Three projects still in the red. The project dashboard was a mountain of red. Schedule, Cost, resourcing... all in a Red status. I put my head in my hands in despair. But only for a minute. I'm a fighter, and quickly the moment passed.

With a sigh of resignation I returned my attention to the e-mail. Once again, it was time to turn my attention toward fixing the situation.

A couple years ago, I had been the super-star project manager. I was the one who ran the most important and risky projects. I knew how to run projects and how to work with the reporting software to make sure that every week they showed up green. Increasingly, I thought about those days as my "golden days" of career development. Today, it seemed that I couldn't do enough to keep my projects green.

Regardless of past success, I jumped into the project documentation to try and diagnose the root cause for the current red report. It was becoming a weekly ritual. I knew that the project teams dreaded my inevitable e-mails. A couple weeks ago while in the bathroom, I heard a developer talking to his project manager calling it "that dreadful note from management."

All the same, I spent the next 2 hours working on an investigation of the data and the project documentation. It was rewarding in as much as I found a number of risks that lacked adequate mitigation, and a couple badly executed tasks that combined to cause poor schedule performance.

I was in the middle of my "dreaded" e-mail when the phone rang.

"Hi Janice, what can I do for you?"

"Good morning Pat. Carol would like to see you. Your schedule shows open. Is this a good time?"

My stomach began to churn in a very uncomfortable way. I wanted to complete the e-mail and explain the things that I had discovered. I really wanted to jump into the project management functions and use the skills I knew would create results. But I put all these on hold.

"Certainly Janice," I said aloud. "I'll be right there."

Grudgingly, I saved off my work and tidied my desk a bit. Jancie was my boss, the Director of Software Development. We generally got along fine, but I always felt that I was not living up to her expectations. I couldn't place my finger on the reason, I guess she just wasn't as warm with me as I saw here with my peers.

Her office was just down the hall a bit. A minute later I knocked at her door, and she beckoned me in.

"Pat, thanks for coming by on short notice. I apologize for interrupting your day, but I promise I'll be brief."

"No problem," I said, not wanting to be rude. "Janice checked my schedule, and I'm free. What can I do for you?"

"Pat, I don't know any easy way to say this, so I'll just come out and say it plain. Your teams are really struggling."

I gulped. Deep down, this was a conversation I had suspected was coming. That didn't make it any easier to hear, however.

"I've been monitoring your project reports. They have been bad, and not improving." I nodded. I hated to hear the words spoken aloud. But they were true. I knew it. "I've also done some skip level reviews, and the morale on your teams is bad. They think you are too disconnected and removed from the project. That you aren't providing the support and help they need.'

I opened my mouth to object. I spent a lot of time working on the project team problems. But she beat me to the punch. She held up her hand.

"I'm not here to get an explanation. It's been so long since I ran a project, I wouldn't understand half of what you are actually doing. But it's clear that we can't continue this way. Your teams need to improve both their morale and their performance."

I could just nod. My stomach was tied in knots so tight it felt like I couldn't even breathe. Failure was an experience so far removed from my personal past that I didn't even know how to respond to the statement. I just sat there looking at her, searching for the appropriate words to say.

"Don't worry, Pat, I'm not firing you." I glanced around and noticed that no one from human resources was in the room with us. I let out my breath with a sudden burst. I had no idea I had been holding my breath.

"I do need to get your teams up to par, so I've enrolled you in a seminar on career development and managing people. It's called "Realizing your Career Potential." Here is some info about it." She handed me a manila folder filled with papers. "It starts next week. Every Monday for a month. I suspect you'll do well to miss a few Mondays."

She smiled at me. I did not feel happy and did not smile back. In fact, my stomach had moved beyond churning and was squarely in the middle of hurt. My mind couldn't help but think about the antacid in my desk. I tried to smile, but could tell that while my lips moved, there was no humor in the rest of my face.

"Thanks. I'll check it out." I had nothing else to say, so I just sat there, wishing desperately to be somewhere else at that moment.

"That's it. You're up next week, so we'll touch base at the end of the month when you have completed the seminar." She turned back to the papers on her desk and I knew the interview was over. Numbly I stood up and walked out of the office.

So begins Pat's journey to understand what to do to get better results from the team. Can you identify with this? Have you ever been in Pat's situation?