I Spoke With Management. This Is How It Went.

Two weeks ago I wrote about the abuse of power and the decisions we face when confronted with the consequences of that abuse. The piece was inspired by the stories of three cleaning people at my co-working space who had been unjustly fired for “not working hard enough.” I was angered by the situation, angry about my helplessness, and angry when I wrote that essay. And while nothing in the piece is incorrect, in that anger I let some of my own biases color the intentions of the man who did the firing. 

I waited a little while to have the conversation with management, because I knew that I didn’t want to let my personal emotions cloud or distort my message. As I have said before, I am blessed with wonderful teachers, and a tool one of my teachers gave me for reframing my mindset and managing my emotions is to start from the perspective that everyone I’m blaming for the bad situation is doing their best, has the best interests of the organization at heart, is genuinely trying to do the right thing, and is not trying to harm anyone. And then, once I have that down, I role play the various directions the conversation could go, and I prepare my responses. 

By the time I sat down with management, I felt much less accusatory and righteous. I no longer wanted to metaphorically stab my finger into their chests and insist that they fire the contractor and rehire the cleaners. Instead, wanted to be collaborative. I decided to approach them in a way that respected both of our positions and restrictions: theirs as managers and mine as a paying member. My intention was: I, too, want to help make this space welcoming. And in that shared goal, I want to tell you about something I experienced that I found distressing.  

Much to my surprise, they already knew about the firings! Another set of people who had been abruptly let go, told management directly.  Despite it happening every single time, I’m always surprised to relearn the lesson: Even when you think you know something, you probably don’t know that much!

Management gave me some additional context. Over the summer, in order to complete construction and open on time, they had to very quickly, and on short notice, ramp up the number of laborers on site. They asked the contractor to help. I don’t know how he did it or what promises he made, but he got it done. Now that they’re open, they don’t need as much staff and management has tasked the same contractor with reducing the headcount– which he is doing. 

I’m not using this to excuse the contractor’s behavior, but it does help me to understand his constraints a little better; and in hearing the fuller story I have a clearer sense of where the underlying failures might lie. (Management says they will address these situations with the contractor, and find ways to help him better achieve their goals.) 

These two stories in many ways embody some of the struggles we have as thoughtful people: How to reconcile the fact that multiple conflicting realities can exist simultaneously, and also all be equally valid. None of the decision makers in these stories are bad people trying to do bad things, and yet innocent people were still hurt. 

It’s a tough dilemma. But to work through the imperfections embedded into life, it seems to me that I should lean on the same guiding principles I posed last week: Who am I serving? And why?

October 2019
Los Angeles, CA, USA

(P.S. It’s Friday night, I’m proofreading this piece at the co-working space, and guess who I just met…the contractor!)