The United Nations Secretary-General, Ban Ki-Moon, gives more speeches per year than I do, and I'm counting the ones I give to my daughter.
Four writers help with his speeches. They all sit a one row of cubicles, with two assistants right around the corner. I spent time with them last week before my talk. A more congenial crew I have never met. Three men and three women, all sophisticated, thoughtful, hard-working, funny, candid—and, apparently, happy.
Actually, more than apparently. I actually asked a couple of them them. Yes. They are happy. They each can rattle off the particular strengths of the others, and though I'm sure they're aware of one anothers' weaknesses too, they don't seem at all inclined to dwell on them. The work itself means too much to them to waste time infighting. And the work—which occasionally involves all-night writing sessions on trips around the world with the Secretary General—is demanding and usually stimulating too.
"Everybody," said David Simpson, whose (wonderful) title is First Officer of the Speechwriting Unit of the Executive Office of the Secretary-General, "is on top of their game."
The whole thing almost—almost—made me want to work in an office again.
More importantly, it got me thinking about times in my career when work has been play.
But there were a few stretches at Ragan: When I took over as editor of the weekly Ragan Report, after years as an understudy. And then I became a managing editor there, thrilled to teach the young kids all the skills that I'd learned only a few years before. I was happy when I went off on my own and found myself writing communication commentaries one day, reporting magazine stories the next. And these days, come to think of it, as I write and speak about communication, saying and writing things that could only have come from a son of my writer mother and adman father, I'm pretty happy too.
There have also been down years in there, of course. Times at Ragan when I wanted to leave but couldn't figure out where else in the world that eccentric place had prepared me to work. (Happily, the answer was, "anyplace.") Times later in my freelance career when I realized with great anxiety and sadness that some of the journalism that I once felt privileged to do, didn't even stimulate me anymore. And times all along the way when I allowed myself to think: Goddamn, this world demands a lot of energy from its workers. And wonder, about that energy: Do I have enough?
This is all a way of asking you to tell me: What was the best stretch of your career? And remembering how good you felt then—how might you go about feeling that way again?
Kristen Ridley says
Murray, do you have a hidden camera in my apartment or something?? How is it you so frequently touch on a topic I’ve just been dwelling on?!
My best time at work was a couple jobs ago, when I had the opportunity to work directly with my boss [a V.P.] to build the organization’s very first communications strategic plan from scratch, but also to regularly interact directly with, write for, and advise our entire senior executive team on communications internally and externally. That was the first time I’d felt TRULY valued and valuable to the business, largely because I had the best boss EVER, who simply assumed I’d always deliver what was needed, and who constantly put me in front of the business’s leaders to work with, and for them. She was, and remains, my model for a great boss, a great executive, and a true leader: collaborative, supportive, challenging and encouraging. I hope to some day grow up to be just like her!
As to your second question, that’s what I’m struggling with right now. As I job hunt, the challenge is to balance out the: “Crap, I really need a job!” with: “I really, REALLY want to find the RIGHT job this time around, where I can settle, and grow, and be happy and challenged for the long term!”
I’m trying to ask a lot more questions when speaking with recruiters, to get as much of a sense of what the job, the environment and the leaders of the organization are like, and most importantly, how they view and support communications. It’s tough though.
David Murray says
I hear you, Kristen (because I have a microphone in your apartment too).
The thing is, I think most people will say–and I hope we’ll see–that those great stretches are rare, and we’re lucky if we can get a few of them in our careers.
The advantage you have is that you’ve had one, and you do know what it looks, smells, tastes, sounds and feels like and you’ll damn sure recognize it if you ever get near it again.
Many people can’t say that, and they’re the ones in trouble.
Allison Wood says
Agree wholeheartedly with your comments to Kristen, David.
At first I thought this post would be another of your puzzlements about how those folks at the UN could in fact be so happy working in a big group in that row of cubicles. But you hit on the key ingredient for job joy – as did Kristen in her comments, and as I did just this morning in my blog post – it’s “working with people at the top of their game.” If your team is great, you’ll be great.
I fervently believe that we rise to the expectations others have of us, and that we all thrive in a garden of vibrant ideas and fertile minds. Without that kind of environment, no job will make anybody’s top list. With it, a lot more (low salary, long hours) can be forgiven and forgotten.
Good luck finding such a garden, Kristen! And remember that it might be hidden under some thatch and weedy overgrowth. Go with your gut and trust all those keen senses David mentions.
Allison Wood says
Agree wholeheartedly with your comments to Kristen, David.
At first I thought this post would be another of your puzzlements about how those folks at the UN could in fact be so happy working in a big group in that row of cubicles. But you hit on the key ingredient for job joy – as did Kristen in her comments, and as I did just this morning in my blog post – it’s “working with people at the top of their game.” If your team is great, you’ll be great.
I fervently believe that we rise to the expectations others have of us, and that we all thrive in a garden of vibrant ideas and fertile minds. Without that kind of environment, no job will make anybody’s top list. With it, a lot more (low salary, long hours) can be forgiven and forgotten.
Good luck finding such a garden, Kristen! And remember that it might be hidden under some thatch and weedy overgrowth. Go with your gut and trust all those keen senses David mentions.
Gerry says
I actually wrote a blog post about this last year but never posted it. I was still too close to what I had described as “the best gig I ever had,” and hadn’t had time to decide whether I liked the one I had moved onto (I’ve since decided I do).
I was working as part of a four-person communications team (three worker bees and a very supportive, equally hard-working director), providing comms support to an organizational change initiative. We had a direct line to our most senior executive, who had a direct line to the CEO.
We worked side-by-side with other members of the change-management team, many of whom were police officers with direct front-line experience that helped us to understand the challenges and the solutions. We worked incredibly hard, but we found time every day to laugh and to talk about our non-work lives. Most important, we felt like what we were doing mattered. We were helping people who already do a very difficult job (policing) by trying to improve their workplace, and also inspiring them by helping them realize that they could have a role in improving the organization.
We were on the front lines of this effort in its initial stages. I left after two years when the organization began moving into the next phase of this multi-year project. It will be several more years before anyone knows if our efforts ultimately make any difference, but it was a great feeling to walk into work every day knowing that my job had a purpose, and that someone might actually benefit directly from my efforts.
David Murray says
Gerry, thanks for that. A higher purpose: WE’RE ALL LOOKING FOR IT!