Although I’ve been saying for a while that I’d really like to know what is happening with my job (is it definitely coming to an end and, if so, when? The “when” component has been tormenting me for about three months now), when I did finally find out – on Friday, three days ago – I greeted the news with very mixed feelings.
Firstly, after over eight years with one employer, which is also the longest that I have ever stayed with one company, I suppose it’s natural to feel some sense of sadness at the end of an era. I have had a really wonderful time for the majority of my years here and have made some great friends. Over the last three years, I’ve crossed the globe, talking and learning about women in the workplace and the business imperatives associated with their contributions to the global economy. I have been a very proud global ambassador of the organisation and have spoken, with passion, about our diversity work and our people at events in the UK, the USA, South Africa, India, Spain, France, Belgium, Sweden and probably a few other places. In April and May this year, we won two very prestigious global diversity awards for our work; and I spearheaded the award entering process, from identifying that the awards existed, establishing that we were eligible to enter, completing our entry documentation and presenting to a judging panel.
So to have it confirmed that, in spite of all of this, in spite of being the driving force behind the creation and production of both a major report on women in business and a 30 minute film on closing the gender gap, in spite of getting great appraisals, fabulous feedback and a couple of decent bonuses, the rule which says that my global diversity role is a secondment and therefore must come to an end as scheduled has been applied to me. And, as I really want to stay in global diversity, and it appears that there are no other such roles for me within the company – then I have to leave.
Cue: reasonable sized cheque and looming unemployment.
Friday saw the confirmation, in writing, of all of this – made real, after months of phone calls, meetings, fraught discussions, multiple email exchanges. And then, in a perfect storm like way, I also discovered who is to be my replacement: because it’s not as if the job/role/function/whatever is being discontinued – like Arlene, the only woman on the “Strictly Come Dancing” panel, I am being replaced.
Also like Arlene, I am being replaced by someone younger than me, someone who I have coached and mentored through to greater career success (she was promoted earlier this year and I’m not taking the credit for that, but …), someone who didn’t actually know that much about the subject matter when we first met.
Two points here, before this starts to sound like the ravings of a disgruntled and embittered old hag (or perhaps it’s too late on that score): firstly, I do genuinely like the person who is taking over from me. She is a great colleague, a dear friend and a really sweet and lovely person. She will also do a great job in what was “my” job. One day, she may even read this blog outburst and I would never wish to hurt her with my outpourings. When she called me on Friday night to tell me that she had got the job (for which, in the interests of full disclosure, I have to say that I had encouraged her to apply) I was genuinely pleased for her and said, spontaneously: “Thank goodness! If anyone but me had to have it, I’m so glad that it’s you!” – and I do mean that. It will be far easier for me to hand over to someone I know and like, someone who is a decent co-worker, someone who I know will only go on to great things with the role and who will carry on the good work.
(But the irony of it is a bit of a choker, yes?)
My second point is that I know that, in my case it’s not about age, even though my successor is about 15 years younger than me. I’m not accusing my about-to-be-ex former employer of ageism, although I do feel that a spot of lateral thinking mixed in with some appreciation for my achievements might have baked a tastier pie from my point of view.
Anyway, like Arlene, I want to use this as an opportunity to move onto bigger and better things, and as a springboard to a different future. She’s going to be appearing on “The One Show”, apparently.
And me? I need to find my own version of that … watch this space.
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On having a difficult week: Hillary & me
14 AugWe all have them, don’t we?
Difficult weeks.
Weeks in which nothing seems to go right … weeks in which one small thing blows up into something massive, weeks in which one small thing then turns into several huge things, weeks in which you end up feeling that you were solely put on this planet in order to deal with people who are depriving villages the world over of their idiot.
I’ve had one of those weeks, pretty much solely to do with all the admin associated with leaving my employer in a couple of weeks’ time. Firstly, I discovered that a colleague who has also left the organisation, but a couple of weeks ahead of me, was participating in what he described as “some really useful [employer funded] outplacement sessions”, where he received help with his CV plus tips on job hunting and interview techniques. Hurrah, I thought, that will be useful. But, when I enquired, I was told that said service was not available to me, due to being in a different division of the organisation. Given that said organisation is currently promoting a “One Firm” campaign wherein services and employee benefits are indeed available to all, irrespective of business unit, this didn’t sit well with me, so I challenged the “Not Available To You” feedback and a full and frank exchange of views ensued.
Days passed, the world turned, willows wept … and I received an attachment outlining the details of the three months (hurrah!) of outplacement support to which I am now, apparently, entitled.
Just as my blood pressure had returned to an acceptable level from this particular episode, I received a phone call from the data monkeys who monitor holiday take up and deployment. Now, I normally receive 25 days leave per year; but said monkeys claimed that, in 2008, my holiday usage had run as follows:
Allowance: 25 days
Taken: 25 days
Also taken: 17 days
Totalling: 42 days
(I wish! When would I have had the time, or even the inclination, to take 42 days of holiday, given that I was also away from home on business for just over 100 nights in 2008?).
We then commenced 2009, with a new allocation of 25 days, except that my tally looked like this:
Allowance: 25 days
Less: 17 days from 2008
Totalling: 8 days apparently “available”
Oblivious to any of this, I had proceeded to have the audacity to take 13 days of holiday so far this year, meaning that I now apparently “owe” the company 5 days, for which they were proposing to charge me, i.e. deduct the cost of said days from my final leaving salary.
Further full and frank exchanges ensued, which resulted in them “writing off” what was unhelpfully dubbed, in Monkey Speak, the “2008 data anomaly” and us then (more Monkey Speak) “re-balancing” the 2009 schedule. Just as I was thinking that I had escaped without quite losing the will to live, it transpired that they had somehow managed to merge my holiday record with that of someone with a completely different name – hence the cock-ups (or whatever phrase of a similar meaning is used in Monkey Speak: “Irretrievable Data Error” or some such, I expect).
Perhaps all of this is a Higher Power’s way of assisting me to separate from the company and forcing me to not mourn the organisation following our abrupt divorce?
But we continue. And mentioning people who’ve had a bad week, what are our thoughts on this Hillary Clinton “Don’t Mention My Husband!!!” debacle? Here’s a link to the YouTube footage, from which I both conclude and observe that:
- Mrs Clinton is a charm-free individual when caught off-guard and not in receipt of a script;
- She has obviously been asked to be a mouthpiece for Bill’s views a few too many times in the past and this was the one question which tipped her over and into the abyss;
- Surely the US’s Secretary of State ought to be able to cope with unexpected questions with a little more grace? She is meant to be the face of the USA overseas and, as such, a little more gifted in the diplomatic arts.
- That is one horrible outfit – so HRC was obviously lacking the stylist as well as the speechwriter on the day in question.
Like I said: a bad week.
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