Read any career self-actualization book or talk to a life coach and you're likely to hear a lot about finding your "true self." One of the biggest movements of the last decade is the push for greater sincerity and transparency in the workplace. Everyone, it seems, is urging us to bring more of our real personalities to work, to let our spirits be on full display and to live our truth.
I've personally experienced the power of bringing more of my "whole self" to work with me. Seven years back, I transitioned from a job in technology middle management to being a full-time college professor. Although I had always tapped parts of my non-work self before (particularly my experiences as a musician and performer), I found more opportunities to let my personality creep into my daily endeavors on the education "stage."
At the head of the classroom, this behavior is not just tolerated--it's encouraged! One of the quickest lessons learned by most college profs is that knowing your subject is only part of the equation. Students WANT to know more about your personal life, favorite foods, and what movie you could watch repeatedly. The most fun and entertaining teachers tend to earn better course evaluations and find fuller sections. A college student in the 21st century is not paying a hefty price simply to be spoken at; they seek engagement, interaction, and a healthy dose of the real person writing on the board..
My status as an extrovert (and experienced performer) served me well as I learned the trade; I can honestly say at this point in my career, a good day in the classroom is just as creatively rewarding as a good gig. I'm terrifically fortunate to have a career that lets me bring myself, nearly completely, into my work. I'm allowed to crack jokes, make pop culture references, and have fun while carrying my educational mission forward.
Not everyone is so fortunate; for every college business instructor who gets to teach an occasional class on Batman, there are thousands of people who don't typically earn points for being "authentic" at work. Be it the kid flipping burgers at the local Golden Arches or the guy at the job site reinforcing his bravado as he straps on his hard hat, the established rules and mores of specific workplace cultures often overwhelm the individual's drive for self-actualization.
I promise no treatise on Maslow or Hertzberg today, but the concept of finding true "self" was at the top of their pyramids. I think what might be missing in their equation, however is context. Not every job, white or blue collar, is a breeding ground for creativity. For every Apple or Amazon, companies that tend to thrive on enabling creative idiosyncrasies grow entire business models, there's a Blackberry or GM, organizations that almost imploded based on their own rigid standards of employee behavior and the flow of ideas. Although Mary Barra has been a master at reshaping the culture at GM, I don't imagine many executives or line workers were being encouraged to follow their passion within the company during the late 20th or early 21st centuries.
Conversely, self-actualization simply doesn't work in some professions. While a college business prof can make the decision to throw out an expensive text in favor of open source readings, the line worker at a fast-food joint cannot bring her own creative "flair" to how the new fried chicken sandwich will be made. In this case, bringing too much "self" into the equation would be detrimental for the business, as sandwich production would decrease, consistency would suffer, and overall speed to fill orders would slow down.
Self-actualization at work, it seems, is mainly limited to people who've already climbed a way's up the ladder or who've lucked into a dream job. A crack in the rigidity of these rules has started to break some walls, however...and it's come in form of COVID-19.
Regardless of position, the past 10 months have forced a kind of closeness between many co-workers...ironically, BECAUSE of the distance. When COVID-19 hit in 2020, even the most staunch opponents of working from home found themselves adapting. Zoom calls and Google video meetings exposed our co-workers to others' household clutter, yappy dogs, screaming children, and excessive action figure collections (oh wait...that one's just MY colleagues). We saw each other without ties or makeup. We had to laugh to keep from crying as we became our own technical support.
Through all of this change, a new sense of casual familiarity has emerged. The struggles have been universal; balancing overcrowded homes, with tapped-out Wi-Fi and a nearly smothering sense of uncertainty. Our colleagues have seen us with home haircuts, five o'clock shadows, and bad lighting. In many ways, the veil of formality has been inexorably lifted; once you've seen your manager struggling to keep her kids occupied during a budget meeting, you know them in a new and dare I say intimate way.
This familiarity is also working in tandem with a new form of empathy; after all, we truly are all in this situation together. I've seen a new level of patience in my students when I push the wrong button on Zoom call. I've tried to return the favor when someone's camera isn't working or they can't find the "mute" button for their microphone. At some level, we know that none of this scenario can be perfect; the ways we're learning to operate simply cannot be the same as they were.
In all of this chaos, perhaps the positive message to be found is that in the midst of struggle, a little more of "us" crept out into the light. Beyond our will to contain veneers, our true personalities, including the messy parts of our lives, revealed themselves on camera and at "work." Even as we return to in-person work and common spaces, the new familiarity travels with us. There's no retracting the parts of ourselves we have exposed, the parts of our personalities that have powered our resilience with humor, wit, and compassion for our co-workers.
Can a pandemic pull us closer together? Despite the mass media narrative, I think it has. Even if the choice to be transparent with each other was not exactly our own, the bravery to be vulnerable (and compassionate) is something we can take credit for. Between student and teacher, employee and manager, and coach and player, we are all learning from each other in this point in time.
Hanging onto this lesson surely can't hurt in a divided world.
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