“Becoming is better than being.” – Carol Dweck
A proper power lunch requires a proper tie.
And a proper location.
A pink polka dot pattern backed with black for the former, and an afternoon reservation at 677 Prime for the latter.
After Marline sent out a feeler of whether or not I’d be interested in coming back to DEC, Sherri and I set up a meeting. Sherri was now the Associate Director, and we were going to talk about what a return might look like – hours and schedules and supervision – as well as catch up because I missed her and hadn’t seen her in a while.
At first I must admit I was not even remotely entertaining a return to DEC, even if it was at a higher grade than what I had left as. I’d made investments in OCFS, on a number of levels, and they had certainly invested in me. When I stepped into that position I did my best to put all my focus and energy on making it the place where I’d build the rest of my career. I took on new assignments without complaint and did whatever was asked, and I got on so well with everyone that it wasn’t a chore and never a bore to come to work. We got through the difficult situations together, usually with a laugh, and I didn’t want to lose that. I’d also seen firsthand the good work the agency did, something we tend to lose sight of when cloistered in our Human Resources tower.
As much as I was committed to OCFS at this point, an offer of earlier hours and a compressed work schedule where I would have every other Friday off, was ultimately a better fit for me and my situation. Sitting down beside Sherri in a booth in the back of 677, we discussed those terms, and when DEC proved amenable to them, I felt it was time to return, despite how difficult it was to come to that decision. In many respects this decision was tougher than leaving DEC, and I spent a few days agonizing over what to do, discussing it with Andy, and making another list of the benefits and drawbacks of all options.
Breaking it to the beloved people at OCFS was one of the sadder things I’ve had to do in my state career, because I wasn’t leaving for any negative reason. I arrived the next day with three bouquets for the inspirational women who had given me such a generous chance. Tonya saw me coming with flowers and knew what was happening; she had been my supervisor and was one of the main reasons I didn’t want to leave. We got along perfectly, and I’d like to think we each brought something new and valuable to each other’s life. (She was also married to a cop so we had a lot in common as well.) Before I left, we had a gathering where they presented me with a box of chocolates – I put on my best game face pretending to be grateful (whose idea was it to get me chocolate?), when they urged me to open it up. I broke through the plastic and lifted the lid to find a bottle of a Tom Ford Private Blend – ‘Oud Fleur’ – because Ginny had gone around and said that’s what I would like (I’d also told her everything that was on a Christmas gift wish list). I came very close to crying as I looked around the room at all the wonderful people I’d come to know and genuinely like. I thought back to one of my first days with Carol, who at the time was about to go out for several weeks and who had left me with this bit of advice: “Do good work.” It was such a simple statement, but what power and grace it held. It would be difficult saying goodbye to my friends at OCFS, but I’m happy to say that we have kept in touch since then.
Returning to DEC, where I had spent the bulk of my state career, felt less like a homecoming and more of a waking from a dream. A very good dream in most ways, and it would take some time to get my DEC legs back again. It was April 2015 and another spring was at hand. In downtown Albany, new restaurants and storefronts had opened up. After winter, everyone seemed to be outside enjoying the sun. The linden trees ripened to darker green and their tightly-bound buds swelled into bloom, trailing sweet perfume all around them. At home, our gardens were renewed as well – I’d discovered the power of judicious editing, and occasionally ruthless pruning, to bring out the importance of space and balance. In many ways, it mirrored the work/lifestyle balance I’d carved out for myself within my state career. The morning glories were back too, winding their way up and through a Korean lilac and some maiden grass. They promised more beauty for later in the summer.
I was now supervising a couple of people, but since I had been away for a year, the transition proved easier than it might have been should I had stayed. Everything works out for a reason. Gaining experience in another office was beneficial in honing my skills in Human Resources. Exposure to other procedural methods enabled me to see things on a grander scale, and it was easier to identify the big picture instead of getting lost in the minutiae of a situation. It was also good for me to see how other agencies operated. Even in the same title, the protocol and processes of what we did differed in many ways – seeing that gave me a greater understanding of the basic tenets of the duties, while also affording a glimpse into different methods of doing things. Being malleable and open to such change is an asset in the ever-evolving world of Human Resources. I must have done a few things well, because I was eventually promoted to an Associate Director Human Resources 1, something I could not have foreseen even if others claim they could.
Having a good friend as a supervisor doesn’t work for everyone, but it works especially well for me: Sherri is one the main reasons I wanted to return to DEC and she makes every day that much better. I thought back to our reunion lunch, and how I could just about begin to make out the vague outline of us ending out our careers together – and there’s something incredibly gratifying about that. The office is less lonely whenever I think of it. It’s also a place where new people have arrived and become part of our tapestry, adding their own shades and nuances, their own characters and natures, and we are lucky to be in a group where everyone gets along and likes one another. That’s not present in every office, and I consider us very fortunate in that respect.
While I don’t talk much about my state career here on this blog, it’s become something of which I’m proud and protective. Is this the dream job I would have envisioned for myself when I graduated from Brandeis and thought I wanted to be a writer for a living? No, it’s not that dream job – it’s a different dream job, made so by the good people who have populated my state journey over the years. And sometimes you have to make new dreams.
A little while after I started working for the state, someone described the ‘state slump’ – the way that after a certain number of years of working, people got this downtrodden slump in their walk and demeanor, a wearing down of enthusiasm and hope manifested in physical form. I’ve seen that in people. It’s not uncommon. But there are also those who never lose that sparkle, who keep a certain spring to their step, for whom every day is a new opportunity to do something worthwhile, to do something that might make the world, in however small a way, a bit better.
After almost two decades in the state work force, I’ve come to understand that this is a choice, and it’s a choice each of us makes every single day. The choice of whether to participate and be a part of life, to engage and make yourself part of the story, or the choice to go dark and apathetic, to distance and dismiss the opportunity to join in this strange, wonderful and surprisingly enriching journey. It is, and always has been, what we will make of it. The people who forget that they have that choice are the ones who seem the most miserable. I have days when I fail to see it, when I disappoint myself in getting bogged down with bureaucracy and red tape and rules that feel designed to impede progress. And at those times it’s best to slow down, take a moment to relax and recover, then go at it from a different angle and a new perspective. So much of an eventual good decision can be based on not deciding in that instant.
One of the best things I’ve learned over the years is that it is the process that is the most important part of the work, particularly in Human Resources, where we don’t always see the end results of our labors. We work our behind-the-scenes magic so that others may put on the show. For an introverted extrovert, that may be the ideal place for me, and after almost two decades of this journey, I’m finally beginning to see that.
“Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.” – Harriet Tubman
{See Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four and Part Five.}
