Granddads Sneakers (or Where are you hiding your true self?)

Being a Learning Rebel is a challenge.

boxing gloves

When we’re young and in prime career building years, we are focused on what we need to do to be successful, and as we become more career entrenched the focus turns to keeping that success.  Sadly, more times than not, it’s at the expense of our true selves.

As we become part of the corporate grind, slowly, as days pass to months, then years, our true selves are homogenized into what is the acceptable norm. We have allowed ourselves to become part of the status-quo that we bitch about when we come home.  We have allowed ourselves to become comfortable with the current state of L&D and fearful when discussions about change surround us. As a profession we have collectively lost, or are willfully ignoring, our voices.

laid off

Recently I was laid-off, made redundant, position eliminated – state it as you will, but in essence was told that based on a spreadsheet somewhere, I didn’t come out on the black side of the ledger. There are a couple of truths here: 1) this really wasn’t about my work ethic or performance but if I had been less of a Learning Rebel with a cause, I might still be employed. This leads to point number 2) this was a blessing in disguise.  Cliché, I know, but through multiple leadership changes, and intercompany divisional mergers the company I joined six years ago is not even a shadow of its former self – not even close. While the company slowly went back into time, I could not.  I tried, really I did – but my friends and family were the recipients of the slow burn of anger I felt daily.  Seeing the learning culture that was so carefully nurtured and fostered being systemically dismantled was painful.  Being a witness to learning in the organization going backwards, with slide decks (one was 178 slides, I kid you not) being sent out to the population that neither addressed a real business issue nor ensured the exchange of learning was like a stab in the heart. We were slowing turning into the dreaded “tic a box” department.  Therefore the company and I parting ways was really for the best.

Now, as I am struggling with the inevitable grieving process of losing a job, I remembered this nugget in my life.  A personal story that gives me perspective: “My Grandfathers Sneakers”.

Here we go.

granddad

I lost my grandfather over 30 years ago to cancer.  He was a hard working man all his life, a Union journeyman electrician who worked on the Queen Mary.  He was truly representative of his WW II generation – work until you’re exhausted and then work a little more, come home, have a drink, eat dinner, watch Cronkite and play with the kids.  He drove his giant, gas-guzzling, American-made car with pride.  He lived his life the way he thought he was supposed to.

Soon after he was diagnosed, he went shopping – alone.  This was news in itself, as my grandmother bought him every article of clothing he ever owned.  I can remember this event like it was yesterday…he entered the house with a “cat ate the canary” smile.  He went straight to the family room, sat in his old worn out recliner and pulled out a box of shoes.  We were transfixed.  He opened the box and pulled out a pair of brown sneakers.  I was speechless. I had never seen my grandfather with a pair of sneakers.  It was always steel-toed boots, dress shoes or slippers before bed.  I thought my grandmother was going to have a fit (imagine a proper southern woman complete with coming out parties and sweet tea and you have my grandmother).  “Jim! Are those sneakers? What in the world were you thinking?” she asked in that tone that could only indicate wifely disapproval.

Here was his answer, “I don’t have much longer in this world and I want to leave it wearing sneakers. No more work boots, no more dress shoes, just these nice comfortable sneakers.”  And you know what?  He wore those things everywhere with everything, it didn’t matter.  He even wore them with his good Sunday suit. 18 months later he lost his fight with cancer but won the sneaker battle. It was a small, powerful statement.  To a Rebel in the making, the sneakers were a representation of his true self. A lesson I had almost forgotten.

fancy sneakers

The moral? Wear the sneakers.  Be the true version of yourself.  I may be unemployed, but I’m happier.  I’ll find another gig where a Learning Rebel is embraced, where I can lead other rebels. Another gig that will allow for fresh eyes, fresh points-of-view and a willingness to accept (or at least listen to) different opinions.  Will it be hard? Yes. No harder than having a southern matriarch standing over you wondering if you have lost your mind.  Wear your sneakers and may they represent your true self.  Kaizen!

4 thoughts on “Granddads Sneakers (or Where are you hiding your true self?)”

  1. Shannon…what an amazing post. I LOVED it. And seeing your grandfather in that picture brought back memories of spending the summer at your grandma’s house in Long Beach. Those were some of my favorite times!

    I can totally relate to both the post and Laura’s reply. I’ve trained for some of the biggest corporations in the nation and am always surprised (though not as much anymore) at the lack of true learning, encouraged and administered by trainers who ‘get it.’ I’ve seen millions upon millions of dollars wasted as training demonstrated by poorly constructed PowerPoint presentations lead employees down a rabbit hole of boredom and lackluster performance. It’s from both sides that the enthusiasm for actual learning wanes…many of the trainers I’ve worked with are just as much to blame. I, too, look forward to working for a company that embraces training that results in knowledge and not just training for the sake of training.

    Like

    1. Thank you Pauline! Those were some great times, and some of my very favorite memories as well (fun in the sun, without a worry in the world!). Regarding the other part of your response: It can be very difficult to see an organization send money down the drain, good money after bad expecting “training” to “fix” their problems. I have found, as I’m sure you have experienced as well, that if only a proper (and honest) root cause analysis was conducted then an entirely different solution may have had a more positive impact on their business issue. I am always leery of organizations that tell me, “Don’t worry about the analysis, we’ve already done it and this is what we have found…” Hmmm – scary stuff. Our role as L&D professionals has grown to become more of performance consultants, and shame on us if we take that “analysis” at face value. I think we need to be stronger advocates for the business and end-users. But I know I’m preaching to the choir!

      Like

  2. Love this! Unfortunately, I’m on the road to slow demise in my current role, not because of my own doing but because things are no longer a good fit. The organization doesn’t truly value performance improvement (or even training, really), nor do our clients; they’re driven by $$ and either don’t see the connection or don’t want to see it. It’s very frustrating because I aspire to so much. I just want to work somewhere where I’m encouraged to push limits and make a difference, not tamp things down. I wish there were a straightforward way to find the “good” organizations to work for. I’ll remember on my journey to find them/get there, though, to wear my sneakers. 🙂

    Like

    1. Laura – Glad this post spoke to you. Breaking out and away takes a lot of courage but as I discovered, your thoughts will be clearer, your heart lighter, and you’ll be more sane! Being a rebel voice in an organization that has no interest in breaking away from status-quo is soul-sucking and I know you’ll find a place that appreciates you and your enthusiasm!

      Like

What say you?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s