Performance Reviews

We're in the middle of our annual performance review period at work. Once a year we formally review every employee's performance, putting down on paper all the coaching and conversations we've had over the year. This has a couple of purposes: First, it's just a part of good people management, I guess, to review how the year went and to look toward the next year. And, in our company at least, one's "rating" relates to the pay increase percentage that will be recommended for the coming year.

So, let's review (a little performance appraisal humor here). Talk about the year, what went right, what could have gone better, where we're going next year. Make sure everyone's on track. Whether this is a joyful or a tearful exercise depends on a lot of things, including the employee's self-esteem, the manager's skill and empathy, and how well you managed the things under your control and not.

Yesterday I gave two reviews (one still left to give today) and got mine. Two of the exercises didn't go as planned. Interesting.

First, my review. I had a pretty good year - very stressful, very full, mostly successful. I figured I would be rated "meets expectations," a solid C. (I would have rated myself higher, but my boss is a very tough grader.) Anyway, the ratings at The Big Corporation are (1) Exceeds all expectations - walks on water, cures cancer, makes the dead walk; (2) Exceeds most expectations - we hired her to cure cancer and she cured muscular dystrophy too; (3) Meets expectations - she said she could cure cancer and she did; (4) Meets most expectations - she said she could cure cancer, she was only able to cure acne, but she did it; and (5) Needs improvement - she's outta here as soon as we can figure out how to document it properly and find a box for all her stuff.

My manager started the meeting by re-visiting 2003, when I was doing a new job for which I was mostly unqualified and it wasn't going well. The lowest point in my time at TBC. His point yesterday was to demonstrate to me how far I'd come since then. That year was a tough one, but I've been pretty successful since then - big promotion to director, all that. But when he started to talk about that period yesterday, I was not a happy bear. It was like reliving that day in junior high when the big boys pushed you up against the lockers and pulled down your boxers in front of the cheerleaders. (Well, that never happened, but you know what I mean - I just didn't need to go there again!)

Then he went on to say, "well, golleeeee (southern for "who knew she wouldn't laugh?"), I thought you'd enjoy that walk down memory lane." Uh, no. And, no. Then he went on to give me my review - a solid "meets expectations." Exceeded some expectations, no big problems, missed one objective, but accomplished two or three that weren't planned. So, about what I expected.

Okay, on to the ones I delivered. First, new guy, just started. "Meets expectations" - you've been here 90 days, you've done some good things, you've still got a lot to learn about the company culture, you're on track to have a great year. No problem.

Then, somewhat newer guy - here about 13 months. I had to fight like a mother tiger to get my manager to approve "exceeds most expectations" for this guy. He had a hell of a year - not completely perfect, but he brought a lot to the company. One little hiccup that I pointed out, but no big deal. My manager is kind of old school and he thinks that there's no way you can exceed expectations in your first year on a new job, but this guy did - he really did. And I battled like a Viking for this guy and was SOOOO excited to give him his review. And ... he cried. Copiously. Because I had said he wasn't perfect, that he had an opportunity to improve. And how could that be - he had to be perfect. We were together until 7:30 in my office, and I still don't think he got it, but at least he left, clutching his tissues.

And it got me reflecting about what our expectations for ourselves are. Today (completely coincidentally) marks the 21st anniversary of my sobriety. On January 10, 1986, I had my last drink (I hope) and on January 11 I joined AA. So, a big day in a lot of ways, and yet, I've had 20 of them that were more significant just because it's such a fricking miracle to make that first one, and then after 21, it's easy to forget how tough the first year was. So, from one point of view in my life, today I'm a success.

But the real fact is that we grade ourselves so hard in this life. Performance at work is certainly important, especially when it relates to dollars in your pocket, but it's only a piece of the big picture. The employee who took my review so hard is a genuinely good person, a great father, a loving husband, son and sibling. Why should my review ding his self-esteem? It's only one piece of the puzzle.

But we allow how others see us to affect our own views of ourselves. And, for all I know, I might be crazy, and my view of that employee totally off the wall, bullshit, crapola. I'm trying not to let my view of myself be impacted by my boss' view. I'd rather see my "solid C" performance, which I still think should have been a B at least, as just one piece of my total being. Far more important is how am I viewed by my daughters, my granddaughters, the semi-spouse, the pugs, my friends, the knitting guild members I serve. (And I keep bribing the pugs with treats, because I can.)

Trying to keep it all in perspective, one day at a time.

A Sad Day (and not so much)

This was a very sad day at The Big Corporation where I work. Our CEO, who had taken a leave of absence in November because of cancer, passed away last night. Suffering from what was only described to employees as "a virulent form of cancer," he had recently undergone radical surgery and was in the chemotherapy process. He was well enough in early December to attend the holiday party, and we got a report yesterday that he was working out three times a week and walking two miles a day -- pretty typical behavior for this Type A guy. A week ago, he started a foundation to raise money to research ways to cure cancer.

Then today, we learned that he had died of something called Sudden Death Syndrome, which apparently occurs when the body is so stressed by the chemo process that it just quits. Amazing! He was only 49, and led an extremely active life up to this point. He was also a genuinely good person, an innovator in the industry, and committed to helping other people.

Goodbye, Garry. You will be sorely missed.

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In other news in the Pug household, the CEO of The Even Larger Corporation that employs the semi-spouse, was dramatically fired today -- if you can call it being fired when you leave with a $210 million severance package. After gutting everything good about TELC for several years, he has now spoiled their hopes of making a profit for several years, while his buyout continues. In my opinion, the payoff should have been made with their Kidnap and Ransom policy.

In stark contrast to the somber mode at TBC today, where grief counselors stalked the halls comforting tear-streaked employees mourning the passing of a truly good person, the employees at TELC were said to be dancing the proverbial jig, and singing choruses of "Ding Dong, The Witch Is Dead." I'm sure he was oblivious on his way to the bank with his bags of ill-gotten gain. (I have a mental picture of Scrooge McDuck sitting in his vault among his bags of loot. Where are the Beagle Boys, lurking around to rob him when you need them?)

Goodbye, Bob, and good riddance.

Resolutions, I've Had a Few ...

I'm really in the Frank Sinatra mode, here aren't I? He's probably spinning in his grave. Oh, well.

I hate New Year's resolutions. When I make them, I break them within days, sometimes even within hours. I make them because it's traditional to make them, and I break them because, well, because I'm me. I have almost no resolve (pun intended). And when I do make them, they're always the same: save money, lose weight, be a better person, lose weight, change everything about my life that makes me miserable, the usual.

So, that's out for this year. I'm over that. But I did think of a few things that might be do-able and that I might even enjoy:

(1) Make at least one knitted thing for charity per month, or 12 a year. (This is a holdover from last year, and, while I didn't keep track, I think I was pretty close or exceeded, what with helmet liners, CIC vests, CIC socks, preemie hats.)

(2) Find a way not to be totally pissed off when the Christmas season comes around. Every year it hits me as a complete surprise and I'm never prepared, financially or emotionally, and I always end up pissed off. This year, I'd like to do a few things all year to keep myself in the spirit--maybe plan for an all-knitting tree and maybe an all-old-Santa tree, maybe even try that outrageous Aran tree skirt I keep seeing on blogs.

(3) Try to be sane about my weight. Eat when I'm hungry, and try not to eat out of emotion or boredom. Try to cut out the fast food. Try to move a little. Cut myself some slack when I fail.

(4) Look for some other income sources. I'd still like to get into indexing but I'm not sure how to do it. Really take the time to explore that and some other options. EBay?

(5) Write.

(6) Develop the Mystery Traveler website. I've been paying for the domain name. Set it up and do it.

(7) Try to handle crap situations with dignity and grace. We've got a lot of finance/housing issues coming our way, and possibly some job issues. And maybe health issues--2006 was certainly an eye-opener for me of all the things that can happen, but happily haven't yet. Try not to be an ass when handling those situations. (Whining belongs in a blog because none of your family and friends want to hear it. The blog readers, if any, can always hit the escape key.

(8) Enjoy the moment.