get the lead out - part III

So what changed? Well, the answer to that is a bit complicated. I’ll hit the highlights.
First, I got involved in a great development team at work. I can honestly say it was one of the best run projects in the company and the best things I’ve ever done with the company. Heck, it changed the way we do business. And I was thoroughly invested in it, not just because I loved doing the work, not just because I was good at it, but because naturally I believed that when I was spotted as a standout performer, I’d be elevated to a position more in keeping with my skills. I was good at the job. The programmers working on the project told me I was so good at narrowing down the problem behaviors in their work that I saved them countless hours. I was even flown into headquarters a few times just so I could sit with them and do some concentrated and intensive de-bugging. I was the flavor at the month from Baskin Robbins.
This, if you’ll pardon my French, didn’t count for shit once the project wrapped up. This taught me something important. It taught me that I didn’t matter. I suppose that sounds depressing, but let me elaborate a little. I had the misguided belief that it was just a matter of getting recognized by the right people, and I’d get ahead in the company. When this project concluded, a month went by. Then another. Then another. And another. The knock never came. The spotlight never came on. I was patient. And then, just when I despaired that they had forgotten me completely, I got a letter.
It was a $10 Gift Card from Best Buy. Thanks so much for all you did. I never used it. Somehow, using it would mean I believed it was an appropriate response for my effort.
Next, I got published in a local magazine. Through some contacts I had, I met a local artist and did an interview that was published in a small glossy, complete with a picture of a rock star on the cover. They didn’t last a year, but they paid me more than I made for a year of work at my company, so I felt pretty good about it. After that, I connected with a local organization that did a yearly festival. During the year, they published a quarterly newsletter to keep in touch with their audience and needed an editor. It was such easy work and they were so appreciative that I found it really satisfying. I did the graphics for ads, I did articles about local bars and music venues, and helped distribute the newsletter.
And I’ll tell you what I found most interesting. Everyone at work was so surprised that I possessed the talent to do any of it. In four years, that is just how little they knew me. I even remember the day that one of my co-workers said, “Wow, Laura, you’re a good writer.” I will remember the tone of voice she had when she said it. It was laced with astonishment.
Now it’s not their responsibility to know my business. I keep my private life out of work, because I think it’s important to have some boundaries. It pointed out something significant to me, however. I realized that in this environment, being part of a team doesn’t mean using your strengths or talents to benefit the company. It means that there’s a hole in the wheel that needs a cog. You’re the cog. Fill it.
Finally, while I was piecing those things together, I was introduced to people who reminded me that I was intelligent, creative and intuitive. The people at work had no use for those qualities, but others did. I was respected for my qualities, and I was listened to. My dissatisfaction was understood. And as I spoke of it, I finally began to wake from crisis mode. I realized that my dissatisfaction was something more than being picky or spoiled. I began to understand that it was actually changing who I was.
So now what? More on this soon.
--Laura