Considering the Impact of Generosity on a Life('s Work)
The editor in me really wants to make some revisions to this image ;)
Not long ago, during an interview, a participant told me a story about the people who had “poured into” her, making her feel invested in. Maybe it was that story or the milestone birthday or my first kiddo heading off to college—whose birth precipitated the launch of my consultancy 19 (!) years ago. Perhaps it was the word ‘decades’ occurring to me when I was updating my bio recently. Or possibly it was while I was reflecting on a brown bag prompt:
Come prepared to share about a value that you hold that has driven you in your career or your work. Be prepared to share what the value is, how you’ve come to hold it (a person or experience that has helped you realize its importance), and how it shows up for you at work.
Lately, I have been mentally inventorying the “work” people for whom I am grateful.
We all have our work people. These are the folks you never would have met had it not been for a work-related experience. Some become lifelong friends or colleagues. Some remain anchored to the experience itself, often becoming “loose ties.” I think of these connections like a cartoon snowball rolling down a mountain, picking up more and more folks as it gathers momentum. I have been fortunate. My snowball is roiling with so many arms, legs, and heads poking out of it—all bound together by their generosity.
My first job out of college was as an editorial assistant at a publishing house in New York City. This experience was the equivalent of getting an entry-level job at the podcast, This American Life. A jillion people would do just about anything to move across the country, sleep on their cousin’s floor, for a very low salary, to work there. I spent my last penny making three separate trips to the Big Apple because Robert D. in human resources was persistent and generous with his time.
When I shifted to a low-level technology marketing role—answering RFPs and learning product marketing—Theresa O. and Cindy P. were generous with their subject matter expertise, extending opportunities to develop a competitive intelligence program and to manage industry analyst relationships. You cannot begin to imagine how often those experiences have come in handy!
Those opportunities opened the door to a vice president position, founding the industry analyst relations function at a communications agency. I was really young and—frankly—out of my depth. But Diane M. in human resources sagely mentored and gently guided me. I have never met her equal in her field or as a generous human being. She embodies the very definition of the word.
Eventually, I found myself on a team of product managers in charge of an eCommerce website. We released two versions of the site each day. My partner in crime on that adventure, Debra M., was generous with her friendship and camaraderie. We journeyed together to our next gig in medical device manufacturing and she joined me intermittently on several consulting projects when I went out on my own. We raised our children together (virtually) and now we’re sending them out into the world together.
While working in medical devices, my boss was a nurse-turned-consultant named Sydney N. Syd was both generous with her professional support in the face of adversity and personal support while I was raising small children. We were briefly fellow Cheeseheads and, whenever she roared in on her Harley, she provided a lifeline during a time of extreme social isolation.
My consultancy thrived in its early years due to the generosity of my first client, Sarah W. Her projects were full of integrity, commitment, and a healthy sense of humor. And that association led me to Sandra B. with whom I partnered for the next 13 years. Sandra was generous with her work, her research practice expertise, and her friendship. For many years, her voice on the phone was the one of the few adult voices I heard. Without her, I am certain my brain would have atrophied! She introduced me to our colleague Steve R. and he gave me the nudge I needed to extend my practice. He taught me everything I know about naming and positioning. I miss him.
Once I started to look for new types of consulting work, the Universe led me to Sarah D., then a powerhouse behind retail services and educational programming for historically underinvested Detroit local businesses. She was generous with her trust and her network. Her belief opened doors and led me to Graig D. and nonprofit strategy development. Graig shared his talent for place-making and his belief that everyone deserves good design—ideas that influence my work still.
That relationship led to me a group of women consultants, where I met Nicole D., Melissa V., and Lauren D. They were generous with their collaboration and their understanding of the systems that people need. In my time with them I developed clarity of purpose and an untapped interest in civic infrastructure. In Melissa, I found a kindred, process-based spirit and friend.
While I was working with non-profits and small businesses (and the 2020 Census), I began to recognize that I was a data person and that we are all (and need to be) data people, but we often don’t realize it. I started worrying about the impact of a broad lack of data literacy on marginalized communities. I started writing and speaking about data visualization in real life and before long, I had filled all the cracks of my non-working day editing for the dataviz journal, Nightingale. The publisher, Jason F., was generous with his appreciation and enthusiasm. Soon, he, Claire S., Julie B., and I launched a global print magazine. This effort required a heap of time, talent, patience, vision, and joy.
That brings me up to date. In my current role, I am amazed daily at the generosity of significance that each person in the organization exhibits. Each of us shows up because of our shared commitment to the idea that life is better when we give each other a chance. Mylien D. has invested in my professional development in a way that is completely new for me. She is the thought partner that I never knew I needed and for whom I am eternally grateful. Keith W. is so much more than the quantitative yin to my qualitative yang. I feel more courageous about “dancing with fear.”
This exercise was good for my soul. For better or for worse, most of us spend so much of ourselves in our work life. I hope this (not even remotely exhaustive) list helps illustrate that those investments can have profound returns.