Recently in office politics Category

This originally appears as a guest post at the Home Office Warrior.

In walking to the parking garage with a co-worker recently, the conversation turned to telecommuters. At some point, the mention of the “office camaraderie” and friends at the office was mentioned, and how those working from home were missing out. In my usual fashion, I made a sarcastic comment, “I’d like to think that I am more qualified and better at choosing my friends than HR. Furthermore, I’d hope that HR has the job description in mind more than my preferences on music and cigars.” We got to our respective vehicles, and went about our lives. But the conversation still stuck in my head. Where did the idea of the “office friend” come from? Why do people think it is so important?

I recently did a guest post on the Home Office Warrior about the idea of the "work friend" and what it means now. Go ahead...read it...then come back. I'll wait.

Ok. Now that we've taken care of that, it's time for some good ol' fashion annual review time! Since I am taking the first week of June off to move the family into our new, non-sinking house, I have to complete it early. Now mind you, I never really know what to put on there. I know I do a good job, and I bring a lot to the team. But self-promotion? Not my strong point. There is a reason I do math for a living, and not sales. But I digress, being that (a) it's a job requirement, and (b) it's part of the process that determines me getting a raise.

So I fill it out. Twice.

After dealing with the wife's family (in two separate parts, divorce is fun!) I realized that somewhere along the way I learned a very important skill: co-mingling with people you dislike. Actually, we all know how to that. But some of these people I absolutely loathe. And yet I somehow managed not to (a) make a scene, (b) sever the relationship, or (c) commit a felony. So how do you deal with these people? To be fair, I've had a lot of practice with this. Besides having a large family (and this was BEFORE marriage), my father is an ordained American Baptist minister. As such, I was raised with a very large 'extended' family (imagine having 25 sets of grandparents) from a young age. This is part of the reason why I've always seemed to get along much better with people older than me than I do with my own age group, since the congregation was almost all above the age of 50. And we all know some people (age irrelevant) that just say or do something completely stupid. But those people are at least tolerable.

This goes beyond that. There are a few people in my wife's family who, in my personal view, are completely ignorant, self-righteous, and have beliefs that I find unacceptable. But they're family. While I go to great lengths to not be around these people or discuss anything that would bring up a topic that would cause an inevidable altercation (GREAT lengths), I can't get around seeing them a few times a year. And I always feel sick afterwards.

But back to the office. These people exist in the workplace as much as they do in my family. And, unfortunately, there's not much that can be done about it. After all, while you may find their views completely reprehensible, there isn't anything "wrong" with them. They aren't harassing anyone. They're not soapboxing, or making it obvious that they feel this way. But you still know that they DO feel this way about something, and you can't get over it. But what do you do about it?

Well, for starters, don't quit. At least, not because of that. Because as I've found out in corporate America, most of the people I come across are white, middle aged men who all tend to think somewhat the same. At least in my profession. And while I'd love to have a good ol fashioned debate (Florida state champion 1999!) about it, I know that they don't care, and they make enough money to insulate themselves from people like me. So I keep conversations focused on a shallow office-banter level (sports, famous people, etc) and don't deviate from that. Second, I don't look to these people for anything other than what's absolutely necessary. They aren't mentors, nor are they anyone I look to for a good example. And while they may be good at what they do job-wise, they're just not people I ever want to be associated with. And lastly, I make it as clear as possible that I don't find those views acceptable, and if I'm in a situation where that ugly part of them comes to the surface, I leave. Period. There is a place for compromise in life. I do it in my marriage, with my friends, and in the office. But for me, certain things just aren't up for debate. Never compromise your beliefs.

Recently, I had a conversation with a good friend of mine who recently got an entry-level position with the company I work for (my old department, specifically). He's a few years younger than I am, but we have a lot in common. We both grew up in the same suburban wasteland. Both our parents are well educated and somewhat eccentric. We like a lot of the same music, etc. We've had a lot of conversations recently, and my wife made the comment that I was acting as a mentor to him. Me? A mentor? Are you kidding me? But she's right. I've been mentoring him. And it's something that has come naturally for me, which is somewhat odd. But after thinking about it, I realized why it was working:

• We have common experience

Since we already have a lot in common, my advice and experience is relevant. Some of the mentor experiences I've heard others having seemed to lack that. While experiencing new cultures and backgrounds is obviously important, in the world of mentoring it seems like a common ground is more beneficial. Since our backgrounds are so similar, there's a good chance that our reactions and interpretations to situations will be the same as well. And they have been.

• I have credibility

Since I've done the job that he's currently doing, I have first-hand knowledge and the technical background involved in the position. I also know the people involved. So when he talks about something going on within the department or in his personal life, there's a good chance I've already gone through it. When I am hearing advice from people (usually unrequested, but that's another issue), I see what experience they have. Would you take marriage advice from someone who's single? How guitar lessons from someone who's never played? Doubtful. Hypothetical experience or advice is a waste of everyone's time.

• I'm willing to listen

Mentoring, like any other relationship, needs to be a two-way street. Just like no one likes to be the friend that everyone dumps their problems on, no one wants to be told what to do and have it wrapped up in the idea of 'mentoring'. When we talk about things, whether it be business or personal, I stop and put my ego aside and listen to what he has to say.

• I'm not a guru

I don't have all the answers. I don't even pretend to. I'm lucky that I'll admit when I don't know what I am doing, or if I have no experience. I've been blessed to have a lot of different life experience so far (more than most my age), but I know that it's still limited. And that's OK. So, at the end of the day, we're friends first and foremost. And we're just as likely to talk about the latest Bad Religion re-issues and whatever garage band he's playing in as we are to talk about anything else. Because all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, right?