Inspiration Series - Part I

At a recent plant managers meeting, our group of HR Geeks presented a short workshop on employee engagement.  Of course, no one contests the significance of engaged workers and higher performing task groups and teams.  It's how to get there that's a challenge.  It can be done, if we approach it incrementally.

As a result, I am leading an internal initiative called The Monday Inspiration Series.  Here's what I sent out recently:

I read an article entitled The Sharp Drop-Off In Worker Happiness--And What Your Company Can Do About It at

http://www.fastcompany.com/1835578/the-sharp-drop-in-worker-happiness-and-what-your-company-can-do-about-it?goback=%2Egde_1345567_member_111762812

Here’s an excerpt:

“According to a worldwide Towers Watson study, the single highest driver of employee engagement is whether or not workers feel their managers are genuinely interested in their well-being. Today, only 40% of workers believe that.”

And a summary:

1. What makes people happiest in their jobs is all profoundly personal.

2. People only thrive when they feel recognized and appreciated.

3. Your employees will stay if you tell them directly you need them, care about them, and sincerely plan to support them

YOU continue to be the most important promoter of employee engagement in your organization.  Have you used these words today?

Please

Thank you

Good job!

Good catch!

I like your idea.

I like your idea.  I want you to talk to the team about it at our next meeting.

I like your idea.  I want you to talk to management about it at our next meeting.

You saved the company money.

You saved the company money.  I will tell my boss about it.

We achieved community service success.  I’ll submit it to the newsletter.

I appreciate that you cooperated with the other department. I like that you build bridges with them.

Thank you for going the extra mile and achieving on-time delivery.

Thank you for reporting the near miss / first aid / medical.

I like your solution to avoiding future safety incidents.  I am going to share it with other plants.

What encourages you?  What can I do to encourage you today?

Have you encouraged your employees today?

Grand-papa Meno Goes Courting

I've only heard bits and pieces of my grandparents' courting days.  I'm not even sure exactly when they met or how long they courted.  I know they married on January 4th the year Grand-maman Rose was 21.

At 18 and 19 years old, Grand-papa Meno was a young buck about town. He would polish his shoes, complete his white shirt with starched collar, cuffs, cuff links and tie, don his best suit and newest fedora, and be off to the dance halls on Saturday nights.  The dance halls of the day were the best places to meet girls. And to have the privilege of escorting the nicest ones home, you really needed to know how to dance and how to hold your own in a conversation.  Many's the Saturday night that would turn into a Sunday morning when, with the last gallant escort of a young lady to her front step, would see Meno stumbling into church for 6 a.m. Mass before finding his own bed at home.

Summers offered a greater range of activities for young folk: a hop on the streetcar for a visit to a park or beach or to an amusement park was just the thing.  The island of Montréal wasn't so built up then, and there were lots of places that had a more relaxed, country feel.

Grand-maman Rose came to Montréal when she was a young girl.  This was somewhere between 1925 and 1928, I would think.  She was hired as a housemaid to work in large homes.  Her days were long and very busy, of course, but Saturday afternoons and Sundays were her own. 

Grand-papa Meno met Grand-maman Rose the year he was 20.  I'm not sure who introduced them.  I don't think their courtship involved a lot of dancing, but I know they met regularly that summer on Mount Royal, just the two of them.  Meno would bring her a box of chocolates and the comics from the newspaper, and they would sit together on a park bench on the Mountain to share them.  Meno could make Rose giggle, and she loved their rendez-vous.

One Saturday, Meno invited Rose to a picnic with several of his friends.  The day dawned promising and, as was the mannerly thing to do at the time, both Meno and Rose put on their best fashions, hoping to positively impress the other.  Meno collected Rose, admiring the smart summery linen suit she wore for the occasion.  They took the streetcar and joined his friends.  All was going well, the afternoon filled with the fun and laughter of young men and women out to enjoy each other's company.

But this was the middle of the summer in Montréal, known for its heat, humidity and sudden thunderstorms.  The skies opened and it just poured.  In no time, everyone was soaked through.  And horror of horrors, Rose's linen suit began to shrink!

With the suit tightening around her trim figure, gaping in the most inappropriate places, Rose was mortified.  How could she return to her employer's house in the soggy, too-small linen suit?  Meno, ever gallant and more than happy to rescue his Rose, brought her home so his mother could help.

A bedraggled Grand-maman Rose met her future mother-in-law that day.  She borrowed a suit to go back to the house in.  She laundered, pressed and returned it the following weekend.  The story goes that Grand-maman Rose never convinced her mother-in-law that she hadn't somehow orchestrated the events to produce a luring eyeful for Grand-papa Meno.

Personally, I think the comics, the chocolates and the giggles had already done the trick!

Grand-maman Rose and Grand-papa Meno, celebrating 50 years of wedded bliss!

Two Topics to Prepare for When Searching for New Employment

Several months ago, I was approached by a job-seeker for a little advice.  Spring-boarding from the specifics of this person's situation, let me share with you some of my thoughts:

On the topic of salary, a little research to establish a range that seems fair for the family of jobs you are suited for is necessary.  You may be asked for this information up front, and it pays to be prepared.  You could say something like, "I am worth (range).  However, I believe you will offer a competitive salary that will recognize my abilities." 


If you think that stating a range may disqualify you from employment, then be persistent and ask that the position be better qualified before you commit to a specific number.  A reminder that you are interested in working in this organization and that you believe you will be paid a fair salary is appropriate, as is a statement  that you would much rather concentrate on finding out if and how you can best contribute to his organization.


Remember that salary is not the only part of compensation that could be important to you.  Asking for improved vacation benefits, early access to pension, immediate access to benefits, profit sharing, and matching funds are things you would do once you have an offer.  Do not mention this at this time.  Your future employer's perception should always be about what you can do for him, not what he can do for you!


On the topic of creating your leaving story,  if you are feeling negative, if you feel you have been victimized, you urgently need to restate the personal reasons that motivate you to seek alternate employment that


a) does not display you as being the victim of your supervisor's machinations and 
b) does not in any way slag the company you are currently working for.


The best way to do this is to develop your own purpose.  Find what you are passionate about, then say what you are looking for, and use the vocabulary of persuasion to prove to any prospective employer or contact that you are the right person for that ideal job of yours.



The work that you do in these two areas will free you from doubts about your worth in dollars and in purpose.  Then you can focus on finding the job that will fit your aspirations.

The Motorcycle

My husband loves to motorcycle.  His first motorcyle and I collided in time and arrived at about the same moment in his life.  The marriage and the children and the house and the degrees and the jobs all came later.  The motorcycles and I have been pretty constant.  Luckily, although there have been several of them, there has been only one of me.

The neighbours tease him sometimes because he spends more time shining up that beast than he does shining up the Jeep and the car.  It just makes me smile.

It's good to have a man with a passion or two.  It makes life interesting.  Here's what he wrote about riding with our daughter.

* * * * *

The first time I saw a friend’s Honda 50 mini-bike back home on Cape Breton Island, I was hooked. I rode it on occasion, but Mom did not approve. How could I blame her? She worked in a hospital and dealt firsthand with many tragedies. Some particularly gruesome ones, unfortunately, involved motorcycles.

Later, I moved to Toronto and a friend told me about the Humber College weekend training course that resulted in a motorcycle license test at the end. That was all I needed to know. I signed up for the course and immediately went to McBride Cycle to buy my first motorcycle, a 1984 Suzuki GS 400, even before I had taken the course. I was doubly motivated because it meant I could drive to Montreal on weekends to visit the woman who was to become my wife. Over the years, I have enjoyed many solo rides, an experience best described as motorcycle Zen – a way of clearing one’s mind, enjoying the moment, and just being.

But I think motorcycling is best a shared experience.  I was fortunate to meet my friend and long-time riding companion, John, early on.  I saw him riding to work one day, struck up a conversation and discovered that we shared a passion for riding. By a strange coincidence, we had nearly identical license plate numbers indicating we had registered our first motorcycles within minutes of each other!

I remember one particularly beautiful ride through the Blue Ridge Parkway from Virginia and through the Carolinas. When I described this memorable ride to my mother, she said something that surprised me.  Despite her experiences at the hospital, time had given her fresh perspective. To live life fully, she said, one needs to take some risks and she was happy that I enjoyed life through my riding. I think this is something all motorcyclists understand intuitively.

Life moved on. I got married and had children. Fortunately motorcycles remained an important part of my life. When my daughter turned 14 or 15, I knew this was something I wanted to share with her. I had taken my son for rides and she wondered when it would be her turn. I bought a Ducati Multistrada 1100 with her in mind. 

We started by driving around the block. She got used to wearing the motorcycle clothing (although she never stopped complaining about being seen wearing it). Later we rectified this with a trip to GP Bikes for things better suited to her feminine tastes. We became more comfortable with the equipment, the bike and each other. We were ready for the next step, a full day adventure.

The perfect day finally arrived.  We woke up to a beautiful, crisp, clear spring morning, a sense of adventure and no destination in mind. It was our first long ride together and we were both a bit nervous. My wife cautioned me to be careful. She could veto the outing, but this would be a special time for my daughter and I, and she is thoughtful about things like this. I promised to take all of the back roads and avoid as many busy streets as possible.

We first cruised around Halton Hills west of Toronto and later around Hockley Valley. My daughter wrapped her arms around my waist and held on as I picked up speed. I knew she would be excited because whenever we rode roller-coasters, she loved the sensation. We leaned into the corners, the wind rushed by and she held on closer. We rode as one and life seemed so perfect. 

We stopped for a quiet breakfast. I watched her eat a mound of pancakes, and I patiently waited for her to tell me what’s on her mind.  She talked about her brother, her mother, about friends and school projects.  She talked about herself. As a parent, these are special moments indeed.

On that ride, we posed for a picture on the Multistrada. To get ready for it, she shed her riding gear as it conflicted with her fashion sense.  At 15, this is important.

My daughter has a talent: she draws beautifully.  In fact, her efforts were good enough to get her into a visual arts program.  I longed for her to give a rendering of us on the motorcycle.  I pestered her for a drawing. “Dad,” she said, “why such a big deal? Why don’t we just frame the picture?” I was persistent. I explained that her drawing would be a treasure, reminding me of her at this age and of our time together. What better way to capture it all than with her drawing of a time in our lives when my passion for motorcycles intersected so perfectly with time spent in companionship with her?

It took her the greater part of a year to complete.  The Multistrada with its trellis frame and exposed engine is challenging to draw, color and shade. I was ecstatic with her attention to detail and how she captured the raw, mechanical presence of the bike. My daughter gave it to me at Christmas 2010, and signed it, “I love you, Dad.”  It is framed and has pride of place in our home.

Since then, my daughter and I have stolen more rides together. I know there will be a time when our rides come to an end.  I'm just happy that time is not now.

New Year's Eve

Here it is: New Year's Eve.

I was listening to my husband, his friend and his brother this week, and in the middle of their conversation on the poor state of our economy and the possibility of a crash like we've never seen before, I reminded them of this:

It's important to be careful, and to take into consideration the possibility of negative outcomes when we make decisions about our futures.  But in the end, whether we have money or not, what will keep us happy is to be surrounded by the people we love, to display confidence and to be personally optimistic.  Those were the biggest lessons learned when I was out of work beginning in June 2008 to September 2009.

My wish to all of you for the New Year is that you be surrounded by people you love, that you continue to be confident and to inspire, and that you never lose your optimism.

Happy 2012!

The 10 Red Hot LinkedIn Tips for Job Seekers

Someone in one of my groups tipped us off to this excellent article.  To summarize:

1. Get connected to 250 people on LinkedIn - that's the gasoline in the tank
2. Join 50 LinkedIn groups - that's the engine oil
3. Post a daily status update - that will keep you top of mind with your connections
4. Participate in three group discussions a week - to be heard and recognized as a smart person
   
• HAPPENLink is a good place to be heard and recognized as a smart person, too
5. Search and save job searches - this is like having your own virtual assistant scouring for jobs 24/7
• It's a good idea to do the same in Indeed.ca and Eluta.ca
6. Download LinkedIn JobsInsider toolbar - this will tell you who you know who know people at the company you want to get a job at
7. Follow the companies you are interested in working for - you will get notified of new hires as well as people who move on, among other things
8. Search for people you know at the companies you apply to - it's a great way to find out if you have a first level connection who knows someone you can contact
9. Optimize your profile for your keywords in your headline, skills and job titles - use the keywords for skills, knowledge and abilities that your future employer is looking for
10. Spend at least one hour a day on LinkedIn - you have to put some time in if you want results

Job seeking is work.  And it involves taking some risks: reaching out to your connections, making statements and arguing your point in a group discussion, exposing yourself to potential employers.  It also can be a lot of fun.  Go for it!

Micheline and the Boarder

When I was 6 years old, my father left CFB Petawawa to spend a year in Egypt as a Blue Beret.  In those days, men in the armed forces spent a whole year away from their families on their tour of duty overseas.  My mother moved to Montréal to be close to her parents and siblings, and rented a duplex in proximity to an English-language school where I could complete Grade 1.  My mother, the oldest girl in the family, was godmother to her second youngest sister, Micheline, who must have been 20 years old at the time.  We called her Mimi.  She came to live with us. 

It was so exciting to have her with us.  In the eyes of a 6-year-old, she was sophisticated and worldly.  She was gorgeous and vivacious.  She had silky long hair that was curled and teased to the heights of fashion, and she wore black liquid eye-liner in a precise stroke across her eye-lid.  She seemed to never don the same dress twice.  She was so glamorous.

And she had boyfriends.  They took her out to dinner and she went to see movies late at night.  I loved getting up in the morning to hear all about them.  She had gone on a movie date with my father’s younger brother and I distinctly remember listening to her tell my mother all about Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music, the story of an aspiring nun who ended up happily married to a man with many children.  How risqué was that!

In addition to having Mimi with her, my mother kept a boarder.  I don’t remember very much about him.  He had a room in the basement, never shared our meals, and kept largely to himself. 

One evening, he came up to the kitchen where my mother and Mimi were chatting together after my sister and I had been put to bed.  Slurring and weaving a little, he demanded my mother’s car.  Surprised and afraid, she could only tell him the truth: it was out for maintenance.  The boarder became frantic and brandished a gun, raising his voice, insisting that my mother hand over the keys to her car.  My mother, normally a woman of action, was paralyzed with fear for her daughters tucked in bed. 

Mimi told the boarder he could have her car keys instead if he let her get them from her purse in her room.  My mother pleaded with Mimi not to, but Mimi insisted, telling my mother everything would be okay, that it was only a car.  The boarder squared off, the gun still in hand.  Once he had the keys, off he went through the door leading from the kitchen to the garage.  Mimi pounced on the door to lock it and dialed 0 to get the operator who would transfer her to the police. 

I remember this because the car alarm went off and made such a racket, it woke me up.  The boarder was stuck between a locked garage door and a locked kitchen door with nowhere to go.  My mother and Mimi crouched together with me and my sister in the room furthest from the kitchen until the police arrived.

As it turned out, the boarder had no priors.  His gun wasn’t even loaded.  He was just upset and confused, on drugs, and wanted to escape.

That night, my aunt Mimi became a heroine – a glamorous, sexy, brave, action heroine who bested the boarder – and the story has gone down into the family annals. 

Shortly thereafter, we gave up that duplex apartment and my mother moved us in with her sister Pierrette and her husband with their young baby, reassuringly across the street from Grand-maman Rose’s apartment.  She felt more secure there.  As a typical 7-year-old, I had forgotten all about the boarder - I was just happy to be closer to my cousins and my fun-loving grandmother.