Tripod Columns: Harry Goldstein

WORK & MONEY
the working life by Harry Goldstein

PROMOTION EMOTION

Published December 19, 1996
Previous columns
by Harry Goldstein

It happened when I was least expecting it. Grasping for the next rung on the job ladder landed me in the dumps, but only a few weeks after my failed bid to get a better job title (and improve my chances at getting another job someplace else), opportunity knocked. Our new managing editor quit after only six weeks -- and I was picked to fill his spot. In the instant it took for me to say, "Uh, sure, I guess I'll do it," I went from one of Us to one of Them. The challenge for me, of course, is to make this transition as inconspicuous as possible, remaining true to my rank-and-file roots while discharging my new duties as efficiently as possible.
I accepted the job with a mix of surprise, elation and dread. I'd been passed over the last time the managing editor slot had come open, mostly because, from the looks of my desk (which seems to have been hit with a fusillade of paper grenades), I'm not the most organized person in the world. But these are desperate times (ACME is relocating in 8 months and hardly anyone here is going along), so the powers-that-be decided that I had experience enough to carry the load to the end -- or close to it. I was plenty happy to be getting more money, but I am still uncomfortable with the idea of rising from the ranks to a position of authority. My boss wants me to move down to the office next to hers, the one the managing editor has traditionally occupied. I try to insist on staying in the cubicle I've been hunkered down in for the past two years, but she's relentless. I think it's a matter of hierarchy. She doesn't cotton to the idea of a regular old assistant editor occupying the office next to hers. And she probably wants to keep an eye on me.

The key is to organize so that people are responsible for themselves. But that's a minor issue that points to some much deeper anxieties I have about moving into a management position. I have a real problem with other people telling me how to do my job, and I know I can't possibly crack the whip or otherwise attempt to motivate my colleagues without appearing grossly hypocritical. Basically, I think the key to managing during a major transition period, whether a company is moving or going through some painful downsizing, is to organize the work load so that people are responsible for themselves.
Of course, this only works if everybody meets their deadlines and does their work. I do not anticipate that this will always be the case. In fact, I expect one editor in particular to be troublesome. And with this, another issue comes to the fore: I can't stand the guy personally, but I know that I have to be fair. It's a real test of will, mostly because I've never been able to conceal my contempt for people who have done nothing to earn my respect. However, if this certain editor manages to do his work on time and not slack off (and he is a legendary slacker), everything will go smoothly. If he screws up, I know that I'm going to have to temper my response to fit the situation.

Now I can put my pet theories to the test. There are also a number of organizational snafus that I have become painfully aware of over the course of my tenure here, and I now have the opportunity to solve them. This is one of the advantages of rising from the ranks -- I know how the organization works and where it needs some fine-tuning. Now I can put my little theories to the test.
I plan on keeping meetings to a minimum and keeping them as short as possible. After every meeting, I'm going to send an e-mail enumerating the major points brought up and the attendant solutions, if any, just to make sure we're all on the same page. I've set up a flow-chart that lets me know where everyone is in the process -- and forces people to take responsibility for keeping up with the progress of their own work.

The ship is doomed and it's my job to make our last months here as easy as possible. All of these are minor details which, if handled well, could make for a more pleasant working environment. But this will be a difficult task -- coming as it does at a time when the turnover is ever-increasing as we get closer to the big move. And that means I'm going to be hiring personnel, as well as evaluating the performance of my colleagues, for the first time in my working life.
I'm first mate on Das Boot; the ship is doomed and it's my job to make our last months here as easy as possible -- all the while keeping morale from sinking below sea level. This is also a crash course in responsibility during which I hope to learn something about managing people, time, and myself.

Harry Goldstein is a writer and editor living in Manhattan. His work has appeared in Utne Reader, American Book Review, Promethean, AltX, word.com, and other periodicals.
© 1996 Harry Goldstein, All Rights Reserved

Map | Search | Help | Send Us Comments

WORK & MONEY PROMOTION EMOTION Published December 19, 1996 Previous columns by Harry Goldstein	It happened when I was least expecting it. Grasping for the next rung on the job ladder landed me in the dumps, but only a few weeks after my failed bid to get a better job title (and improve my chances at getting another job someplace else), opportunity knocked. Our new managing editor quit after only six weeks -- and I was picked to fill his spot. In the instant it took for me to say, "Uh, sure, I guess I'll do it," I went from one of Us to one of Them. The challenge for me, of course, is to make this transition as inconspicuous as possible, remaining true to my rank-and-file roots while discharging my new duties as efficiently as possible. I accepted the job with a mix of surprise, elation and dread. I'd been passed over the last time the managing editor slot had come open, mostly because, from the looks of my desk (which seems to have been hit with a fusillade of paper grenades), I'm not the most organized person in the world. But these are desperate times (ACME is relocating in 8 months and hardly anyone here is going along), so the powers-that-be decided that I had experience enough to carry the load to the end -- or close to it. I was plenty happy to be getting more money, but I am still uncomfortable with the idea of rising from the ranks to a position of authority. My boss wants me to move down to the office next to hers, the one the managing editor has traditionally occupied. I try to insist on staying in the cubicle I've been hunkered down in for the past two years, but she's relentless. I think it's a matter of hierarchy. She doesn't cotton to the idea of a regular old assistant editor occupying the office next to hers. And she probably wants to keep an eye on me.
The key is to organize so that people are responsible for themselves.	But that's a minor issue that points to some much deeper anxieties I have about moving into a management position. I have a real problem with other people telling me how to do my job, and I know I can't possibly crack the whip or otherwise attempt to motivate my colleagues without appearing grossly hypocritical. Basically, I think the key to managing during a major transition period, whether a company is moving or going through some painful downsizing, is to organize the work load so that people are responsible for themselves. Of course, this only works if everybody meets their deadlines and does their work. I do not anticipate that this will always be the case. In fact, I expect one editor in particular to be troublesome. And with this, another issue comes to the fore: I can't stand the guy personally, but I know that I have to be fair. It's a real test of will, mostly because I've never been able to conceal my contempt for people who have done nothing to earn my respect. However, if this certain editor manages to do his work on time and not slack off (and he is a legendary slacker), everything will go smoothly. If he screws up, I know that I'm going to have to temper my response to fit the situation.
Now I can put my pet theories to the test.	There are also a number of organizational snafus that I have become painfully aware of over the course of my tenure here, and I now have the opportunity to solve them. This is one of the advantages of rising from the ranks -- I know how the organization works and where it needs some fine-tuning. Now I can put my little theories to the test. I plan on keeping meetings to a minimum and keeping them as short as possible. After every meeting, I'm going to send an e-mail enumerating the major points brought up and the attendant solutions, if any, just to make sure we're all on the same page. I've set up a flow-chart that lets me know where everyone is in the process -- and forces people to take responsibility for keeping up with the progress of their own work.
The ship is doomed and it's my job to make our last months here as easy as possible.	All of these are minor details which, if handled well, could make for a more pleasant working environment. But this will be a difficult task -- coming as it does at a time when the turnover is ever-increasing as we get closer to the big move. And that means I'm going to be hiring personnel, as well as evaluating the performance of my colleagues, for the first time in my working life. I'm first mate on Das Boot; the ship is doomed and it's my job to make our last months here as easy as possible -- all the while keeping morale from sinking below sea level. This is also a crash course in responsibility during which I hope to learn something about managing people, time, and myself. Harry Goldstein is a writer and editor living in Manhattan. His work has appeared in Utne Reader, American Book Review, Promethean, AltX, word.com, and other periodicals. © 1996 Harry Goldstein, All Rights Reserved