The Zen of Candy Crush: Five Life Lessons

Natalie Hahn O'Flaherty

DGC Principal

nho@dirtygirlsconsulting.com

It's my dirty little secret.

My children are mortified.

My friends roll their eyes and shrug.

Yes, I play Candy Crush.

There are a wealth of lessons to be learned in this seemingly simple, time-wasting-brain-cell-destroying app.  So before you judge too harshly, consider:

Lesson #1: The strategy behind eliminating jellies
Do I move the red candy to the left and eliminate three other solid red candies?  Or... do I move the green candy to the right and eliminate two of those dastardly jellies? Which move will line up five yellow candies so I can get the jimmie-covered chocolate bonbon?  Candy Crush is all about thinking ahead... I have a limited number of moves and must maximize each decision to eliminate jellies or bring down the fruit.  I have to think about my choices, the implications two or three moves ahead and avoid getting blocked off by those chocolate squares.

How often do we use that much careful consideration in our day to day decisions or at the office?


Lesson #2: Let your friends share in the sweetness
There comes a point where you need to get to the next level.  You have two options:

• You can stay at your current level and repeat the lessons over and over again until finally the game takes pity (you 'crush' it five more times) and you are allowed to pass from Cupcake Circus to Caramel cove. Depending on the difficulty and your determination, you could be banging your head against this level for weeks.
• You can reach out to your Candy Crushing friends and ask them to help you.  By sending you a 'ticket', your friends can unlock the next level. Your friends can get you to the next adventure in minutes or hours, and you don't have to repeat the lessons already learned in the previous level.

We often forget that other people have information, skills and ideas that can help us.  And as human beings, we have an amazing willingness to help our brethren.  We are so wrapped in our own story and often so focused on "I can do it" that we forget that "I" don't have to.  So share the sugary sweetness... and bask in the rainbow glow of your pals' cheerful assistance.

Lesson #3: Discover each tool's best, highest use
Much like our friends, we often forget that there are tools available to us to make our lives and our jobs a little easier.  The boosters in Candy Crush let me eliminate more candies and jellies to reach my goal efficiently. I have to carefully consider which tool it makes sense to use and when to use it.  Choosing the wrong booster or tool is a wasted opportunity and can cost me lives.

Are you using the tools available to you?  And are you using the right ones at the right time? I never understood my husband's irritation when I'd use a screwdriver to open a paint can until I caught him using one of my nifty Togodashi kitchen knives to open a box of pancake mix. The right tools for the right job makes all the difference.  I won't ruin the tips of his screwdrivers and he won't dull my blades. We both win.


Lesson #4: Play it loud, play it proud
My children often berate me for playing Candy Crush.  How do they know I'm playing?  They know because the game sends updates through Facebook when I've crushed another level.  Woohoo!  Well, woohoo for me but my offspring are embarrassed by the public pronouncements. They've asked me to turn the notifications off, but truthfully, I don't know how. Even if I did, though, I don't care to.

In life and work, I think we just don't celebrate enough.  Every advancement to the next level is an accomplishment.  Even if it only took one or two attempts, even if it was ridiculously easy, it signifies forward motion.  I got through a full day without scarfing on Oreos... yea, me!  I finished that presentation two days before the deadline... rock on!  Remember, every forward motion is one step closer to your goal.  No matter what that goal is.  I am moving ahead. I am achieving the goals I set out to do. So, yes... level 167 in Candy Crush? Woohoo!

How often do you celebrate?

Lesson #5: Be a good competitor
What makes a good competitor?

Someone who wins?  Sure.

Someone who trains well and is prepared?  Of course.

But the mark of a true competitor?  Someone who gets up and tries again when faced with failure. Time and again, as you face stubborn jellies, licorice locks and multiplying chocolate pieces you suffer defeat... then get back in there for another round. Learn from last round's errors, test new strategies, pick effective tools... and persevere until you achieve success.  In what part of your life does this lesson not apply?  Whether training for my next half marathon or trying to perfect a healthy-but-still-yummy Sunday morning pancake recipe, repeated attempts are mandatory, part of the training.  Do I need a winning pancake recipe?  Of course.  But the journey of finding one is more than half the fun, too.  Enjoy the competition itself, not just the rewards.

Candy Crush is a Zen game.  With every level, you learn to pause.  Breathe.  Take it in, consider your options, breathe out. When I rush through a game, I inevitably make a decision - move the blue candy up! - and as soon as I swipe, the realization flashes before me that if I had paused another half second and moved the green candy left instead, I could have eliminated more jellies and set myself up for a bonus striped or wrappered candy.

I appreciate those Zen moments: slow down, think through your next steps, and then let go.  Every game is a clean slate.  Every level is a new opportunity. We do not cling to baggage from prior levels, but we do take our tools and boosters with us.  And our friends.

So scoff if you must. Join my middle child in his disdainful groan of superiority. Support my oldest and  youngest in their impassioned argument that Candy Crush is ruining the gaming industry.  Yes, there are better things I could be doing with my time. No, I am not changing the world or bettering mankind in the time I spend swiping rainbow colored candies and meandering through the Pudding Pagoda.  But I am relaxing, recharging and for a short time, playing in the Minty Meadow and crossing Bubblegum Bridge.

But do not forget... we can find lessons in everything.  Now, how do I get past those candy bombs so I can make it to level 168?


As always, your comments are welcome.  And don't forget to share this blog!

Obstacle #3: Can you hear me now?

Natalie Hahn O'Flaherty

DGC Principal

nho@dirtygirlsconsulting.com

"You make a good point.  And this idea makes sense.  Let's talk about how we move this forward."

My idea just received executive approval.  I was sitting around a small formica conference table with our head of operations, chief technology officer, vice president of services and vice president of delivery.   And the idea I proposed was just validated as a smart, new direction for our business.

I should be feeling elated.  But I wasn't.

I had voiced the idea twenty minutes earlier.  At the time, the four men in the room looked at me, nodded and said, "That's really not our core competency, Natalie.  I don't know how much of a story we could really build around that."

Fast forward twenty minutes.  Why were they suddenly saying that my story idea, a new direction for the company, was the right idea?

Because one minute before that moment, the head of services restated my idea. In his own words.  But still my idea.

Welcome to Obstacle #3
Why wasn't I heard?  Why wasn't I getting credit for proposing this bold new move?

I can tell you why - now, in hindsight, of course - but first let's recognize that I am not alone.  There is plenty of discussion around why women feel they do not have a voice in senior level meetings or the boardroom.  Heath Flynn Holt, a consulting firm, wrote an article (Harvard Business Review, June 2014) about their 2012 study which identified some interesting thoughts from the male perspective:

• over 30% of men felt women didn't focus their ideas concisely enough
• over 50% of men said women didn't control the floor when they had it

This is compounded by women themselves stating that they don't feel they are loud enough to overcome the chatter and verbal one-upmanship of a group of men and they feel at a disadvantage when surrounded by men who are not part of their support system.

When staring this obstacle down. how should I have tackled it? First, to borrow a phrase my Dirty Girl partner uses often, how did I "show up" to the meeting? And second, how did I want to show up?

Walk into a room already feeling at a disadvantage - outnumbered and unsupported by your peers - and that's going to "show up" in how you present yourself.  Sit down dreading boisterous interruptions; you're going to get interrupted. Worry about being challenged; you'll freeze when you get push-back. Bring your insecurity to the table; self-doubt will sit down and have lunch.  They do that, our insecurities.  They feed.

But how did I want to show up?  Unsupported, nervous and insecure were not the words on the top of my list.  So before walking into that room - where perhaps being outnumbered is a given - think about who you want to bring with you.  You can't change the fact that you are the only woman in the room.  You can't change the fact that the men in the room are going to see you as a woman.  But you absolutely control what kind of woman are they going to see.

So what would that take, for you to show up as confident and knowledgable?  For one, it means excusing self doubt from the table, firmly, and dusting off the crumbs.  You know what you know. In fact, you know more than that.  Your ideas stem from the benefit of your experience and your intelligence -  the same traits that got you to this table in the first place.  When you "show up" as that confident, composed leader, that's what your table mates see.

It sounds so simple to say, "Just push that baggage aside and be great!"

But it is simple.  It's just not always easy.

Does defending your idea make you defensive?
The art of debate in the boardroom is remembering that we're all there for the same purpose - for the benefit of the company.  Staying composed can be difficult if you're interpreting every tough question as an attack - especially if your last interaction with Rob from sales or Kevin from human resources was not as productive as you would have liked. Staying focused on the facts and the key message will help you keep an even tone, avoiding any interpretation of being too emotional or highly defensive. Sometimes, bluntly reminding the people around the table of that goal - benefiting the company - can help alleviate the politics that can come into play when your idea is challenged and serve to keep you focused.

Why do they do it?  How do we respond?  

If I had asked my coworker afterwards why he stole my idea, I can pretty much guarantee you he'd stare at me like I had morphed into General Ackbar.

He didn't steal my idea because he didn't hear it. What he heard was, "Well… maybe… this might not be the right track… perhaps… it could be… we should consider…. I'm not sure this is the best idea but…"

Twenty minutes later, my coworker said, "Definitely… now… we must… I believe… this is… I know."  Whatever nuggets of my idea did seep in, he simply made better.  More powerful.

So who's idea would you follow?

It's a generalization but I'm going to say it anyway: women have tend to frame ideas in softer, more hesitant language.  We don't like to appear pushy.  We don't want to be labeled arrogant. We know - studies tell us repeatedly - that we are not likable when we assert ourselves (that's a whole other blog since we're playing to a perceived bias, not a real one...) The mission in my meeting was to get my point across, to propose an idea I firmly believed would get the company to the next stage. Yet, despite being one of the most direct people I know and I still fell into this verbal pandering.  But who are we pandering to? We aren't serving ourselves and we aren't serving the men in the room, either. They don't care. They don't even hear us.

Had I framed my idea as I truly believed in it and used language to convey not just my faith in my idea but the knowledge I had to back it up - the market data, the understanding of how media works - I would have "shown up" far more powerfully.  And probably shortened the meeting by twenty minutes.

So, your turn: has this happened to you?  While each of us faces a different situation, often the dynamics around the obstacle are similar.  What's your obstacle training look like?

As always, your comments and thoughts are welcome.  And don't forget to share this blog!

N.B.  I am aware that I am posting my obstacles "out of order" numerically.  I will beg your indulgence. It's just how I think.  And really, there is no good order to obstacles.  Is there?

Just get over it...

Natalie Hahn O'Flaherty

DGC Principal

nho@dirtygirlsconsulting.com

Get over yourself.
Get over your fears.
Get over those hurt, misunderstood feelings.
Get over those hurdles.

Because once you get over, you can get on, right?  Get on with your goals, get on with your dreams, get on with your life.  The only thing holding us back from getting on is getting over.

There's merit to this.  "Get over it" suggests that sometimes, it doesn't help us to spend obstinate hours mulling over why a meeting went sideways or why our words were misunderstood.  Sometimes, it really is in our best interest to chalk it up to experience, to chance or mishap, and just keep plowing forward.  Especially in those situations where there's no fix, there's no changing the outcome, and there's really little chance for a future repeat.  Get over it and get on with it.

However, "get over it" can also be an excuse to gloss over an uncomfortable moment.

I've referred several times in my blogs and postings to the "glass obstacle course" that women in business face - women in any business, but especially in male dominated industries.  I've been noodling over a series of blogs about the glass obstacle course concept, and last week, I wrote a list of what I perceive those obstacles to be.  As I wrote it, I thought, "Wow, I am starting to sound like one of those strident femi-Nazis that Rush Limbaugh used to make fun of…"  And suddenly, concern about being assigned to that particular group paused my list-making.  What is it in my generation that makes many women uncomfortable with the word "feminist"?  Is it because we're sandwiched between the extreme stereotype of the man-hating, bra burning, "second wave feminists" of the 60s and 70s, and the blithely oblivious millennials who still have a thin understanding of the impact gender plays in our lives, at work and at home?  I scribbled some notes, I expanded my list of glass obstacles, and I sat uncomfortably with the idea of being a feminist writer. 

And then I just got over it.

Worrying about being labeled is something that I can justify needing to "just get over it."  I can't control any name-calling or pigeon-holing that might take place based on how someone interprets my words.

But I can't justify "just getting over" the obstacles on the list I created. We need to work through these, sometimes crush these… but we do ourselves a disservice to ignore or make light of them. Workplace challenges are very real.  Telling women to just get over it means telling them to play along to get along in corporate America - in the name of getting along with men.  This is not a new concept but what I keep seeing are articles and videos and speeches by women, for women, that tell us how to play the game.  Sheryl Sandberg's Lean In describes a lot of the challenges in corporate culture.  She lays out in the open the pitfalls women face when advancing their careers.  But her guidance to other women is very narrow.  Her own story, while true to her, isn't everyone's story.  Not all of us have a wonderfully supportive husband.  Not all of us have husbands.  Not all of us want to play the corporate game under the existing rules of engagement. Anne Marie Slaughter tells women they can't have it all… at least, not what they want when the want it.  Life is about making decisions but if you believe you can't have your all when and where you want it, then you're right. You won't. You already decided that.

The majority of advice women hear is about contorting themselves to conform to the man's game.  This still puts the control in the hands of men - we adjust our rhythms to a pattern men are comfortable and then we can get ahead. But I posit that men and women don't even define "having it all" the same way, so why are we playing their game?

There are two concepts I want to discuss throughout my next several blogs:

• First, the glass obstacle course is real.  Some obstacles are there as a result of history and culture.  Some are there because we women put them there.  It is worth the time to examine them and figure out the smartest way to get over them.  Some we will need to smash. Some we might rebuild into a new pathway through.  And some, well, we might just need to get over them.  
• Second, there's no denying office politics, corporate culture and games that are played when climbing the proverbial ladder.  You want to play that game - you want that c-level title?  Fine.  That's an admirable objective.  But does that mean you need to play their game? We need to explore our own power to change the rules and the outcomes of these games.  Educate our peers - male and female - on our expectations for the rules of engagement.

I invite you to join me on an exploration of the glass obstacle course and the rules of engagement.  Everyone's is a little bit different, but I bet many of the obstacles I've seen and faced are the same as yours.  We're not going to smash every obstacle, but we're going to do our best to avoid those tiny, painful slivers of glass when we do.  More than anything, we will have an honest conversation about what we want and how we go about getting it. On our terms.

As always, your comments and thoughts are welcome.  And don't forget to share this blog!

The joy of surprise. The beauty of routine.

Natalie Hahn O'Flaherty

DGC Principal

nho@dirtygirlsconsulting.com

I like surprises.

At Corkscrew Sanctuary

Once or twice a year, I pull my kids out of school for a "surprise day"… instead of sitting in the classroom going through another set of math drills and literary lessons, we paddle board in the gulf of Mexico, kayak amidst the mangroves or hike trails through wildlife sanctuaries.  Or we sit in an empty movie theater, then overeat bacon burgers, seasoned fries and chocolate shakes.  I believe going out and experiencing life is just as educational as sitting in a classroom.  I believe spending time together is even more enlightening - for all of us.  I thought this made me a cool parent.  While my kids appreciate a day out of school, they have taught me something: we are wired very differently.

Parasailing at
Ft. Myers beach

When my offspring hear, "Today is surprise day!" the house echoes with groans, "What now?" My daughter scrambles to evaluate her homework list and test schedule to determine if she can take the time off.  My sons rolls their eyes, exchange knowing looks and mutter about the next lame adventure I am forcing upon them.  Those initial moments of jarring them out of their routine and into something unexpected are, well, painful.  Every single time.

So much of what we do on a daily basis is mired in habit and routine.  On the one hand, that's efficient.  It helps everyone get along.  We know exactly what we're doing and exactly what to expect.  On the other hand, we can get so accustomed to our routines and expectations that we don't pause to note: are we really happy?  Are we living our life or just reacting to a series of expected events?

Mariachi Band at GermanFest 2012

Unexpected moments shake us out of the routine and open our eyes to a new perspective.  While kayaking in March, we learned about muscles we clearly never used before and cruised through the mangroves with giant turtles.  On a trip to the dog beach, we learned that our water spaniel was actually afraid of the water. Once we went to a German festival where the featured performance was a Mexican mariachi band with a four foot iguana.  We learned a lot about iguanas on that excursion.  Some of our surprise trips turn into a new path altogether. On one adventure, my husband met a university professor who strongly encouraged him to study ancient languages and pursue an advanced degree.  This chance meeting led to two masters' degrees and then several years as a tour guide leading educational excursions throughout Italy and Greece.

Our car, Jessie, in flames. 

What we do in the moment, how we respond when a new idea or opportunity is presented to us, makes the difference between an interesting story and a significant life change.  But how we're wired also makes a difference.  My husband and I are big opportunists - and I mean that in the nicest sense of the word. My children look at it as disruptive, potentially derailing them from a perfectly good plan.  The caution that holds them back is not necessarily misplaced… not all risks pay off, not all spontaneous ideas pan out.  Not all adventures are good.  One Easter Sunday, our meandering excursion smacked us right into a white sedan in which a woman texting while making a u-turn.  We felt pangs from that little adventure for months.

My wiring loves surprises, craves the adventure of 'what's next' without really knowing just what that is. But sometimes when we are building our lives, and especially when we are responsible for others, settling into some more predictable patterns and establishing a sense of stability grows more important.

Sika the herder (front) and Leo (back)
the water spaniel who hates water

And there is something to be said for the blessing of routines. Every Sunday, I take my mutts to the dog park. That's a routine I embrace. Once there, my herder runs all the other dogs in wide loops, barking to keep everyone in line and running in the same direction.  My spaniel outruns all the others - except one golden retriever with a much longer stride - leading the way for his herding partner.  They run the same loops every week.  They are happy running those loops.  They run. They break for water.  They sniff.
They meander.  Then wham!  Back to running loops.  This is their routine.  And they love it.

We are happy repeating our loops, too. We go to work.  Or school. We come home. We do chores.  We see friends.  We play - eat, drink, sport, whatever our pleasure.  We repeat.  It's a good life.

Petting a baby gator

I'm not suggesting we stop running loops. Those loops provide the basis of our home culture: familiar routines that minimize the number of battles I referee between three teenagers, that accomplish just enough chores to keep the city health board away, that get us regularly to work, to school, and on Sundays, to the dog park. But just remember now and then that even the most idyllic routine is worth a pause: once in a while, wander off track to see what surprise awaits you on an unexplored path.  That short excursion can be just enough to recharge you and return you to your loops with a greater appreciation of the life you have built.

Are you an adventurer at heart or fond of familiarity? Has a spontaneous adventure ever taken you on a completely different path?  I would love to hear about your excursions and how you recharge.

And don't forget to share this post!

When Real Work Infiltrates My Dreams

Natalie Hahn O'Flaherty

DGC Principal

nho@dirtygirlsconsulting.com

I hate it when I dream about work.   And I’ve been dreaming about work a lot lately.

Usually, in dream-world I enjoy the free floating randomness of my mind.  Nothing is logical when I replay it in the bright light of morning, but in the dark of night the non-sequitor action sequences and the cast of characters that meander through are entertaining… freeing. 

When I start dreaming about work… well, to me that says that there’s too much being left undone in my day life.  Unproductive meetings of the day are replayed, but in Kubrick-esque circumstances.  Debates with coworkers take on Allen-type ridiculousness and unresolved arguments fester in absurdity.  The coffee machine only dispenses Bloody Marys.  I hate Bloody Marys.

These aren’t really nightmares, mind you, but they feel that way when I wake up.  Because it means I never left work. Even in those precious hours that I had total freedom to muster up any kind of insanity I wanted, my mind pulled me back to a day at the office.

And the result?  No rest.  I have not escaped the worries of the office, merely transformed them into a Burton-like world where I am haunted by both the reality and the irrationality.

Work dreams occur when I allow two things to happen: 

1. I don't resolve the issues I am dealing with in the office
2. I don't make the time to recharge myself in a healthy way 

So I know what I have to do to escape the work-laden overnight adventures.

Deal with work at work.

Sometimes this is easier said than done.  But the more I let unresolved conflicts chafe without pursuing a solution, the more my mind makes up stories to fill in gap, makes assumptions about other’s motivations, and creates multiple scenarios that bring me no closer to a true end game.  Whether it’s a disagreement with a coworker, meeting or missing a deadline or renegotiating an agreement, the longer it waits the more opportunity it has to wreak havoc with my mind.

Replenish, refuel, regain.

Whether I skip a run or skip the veggies, I feel it.  When I let work deplete my internal resources and don’t follow up with my own strategies for refilling them, then I’m not bringing my best self to the office.  Or home, for that matter.  You have to find ways to replenish your strength, refuel your passion and regain your perspective. There are countless articles on how important it is to take care of yourself so I won’t lecture here… but if you want the restless dreams to dissipate, this is a must.

I know I need to reset.  In last night’s dream, I set my coworker up on a date with a friend of mine, which in real life would be difficult since they live in different states and are, in reality, married to other people.  Another coworker was crying because she felt her boss didn’t value her work anymore.  She was sniveling over my laptop and I wanted to comfort her but I needed to drape baby wipes over the keys to prevent infection. I decided to hold my next team meeting at a crowded bar at 10pm at night.  Amid the shouting over the din and the multiple mai tais, we decided to introduce our next product with a Muppet theater extravanganza.  My boss transferred me to an office in Georgia – totally unrelated to the Muppet-themed product launch, of course.

See why I need to deal with things in my real world?  Because my dream world is not just chaos…it’s not even fun anymore.

Do you remember your dreams? Have you awoken from a dream feeling unsettled? Panicked? Restless?  Share in the comments how you balance your real world with your dream-world.

And don’t forget to share this post!

On Your Journey, What Does Home Mean?

Natalie Hahn O'Flaherty
DGC Principal

I just finished reading The Manchurian Tales by Nick Hahn.  Let’s get a couple of things out of the way right now: Yes, that’s my dad.  And no, this isn’t a book review.

My father’s own journey is loosely detailed in this book.  And I found myself crying as I read the last f  It is not a sentimentally written book.  Perhaps I can blame this week’s lunar eclipse for an emotional mood.  But... I will bare myself a little here… it’s the first linear view I have into my father’s childhood and the journey that has shaped who he is.  And it is a revelation. 

The stories woven in The Manchurian Tales are not ones you will find anywhere else – not in any history book, not in any novel.  It covers a small, unknown ethnic group through four generations directly impacted by global events.  This tight-knit group, known as Russian-Koreans or uhl mah zeh, break apart and cross paths repeatedly through the Japanese invasion of Manchuria, the rise of the Soviet Union, the Korean War and Vietnam, as families fled imprisonment and torture from Harbin to Seoul to Tokyo and eventually, San Francisco and Hawaii.  Their journeys were of soldiering, of hiding, of starving, of gambling, of building, of rebuilding and ultimately, of surviving.  The uhl mah zeh were forcibly moved from their homes and scattered, many remaining stateless, without a home, through the end of their lives.  What happens to your identity, your sense of self, when you have no home, no citizenship, and you are forever surrounded by foreigners?

My father did not write his book to be an inspirational tale of overcoming life’s most excruciating trials, although you can certainly take that away from it.  He is capturing a small piece of unknown history that dies when he does.  This book is less a series of tales and more a collection of letters written for my brother and me.  There is a part of my father’s life we simply have no affinity for. For anyone whose father is an immigrant, you know what I mean.  There is a life and a culture that exists before becoming American.  And for those of us who are the offspring of these immigrants, the only life they want us to know is the American one.

But as the child of an immigrant, I felt the pull to the more exotic culture, the family history that was always such a mystery to me.  I read all the books my father talked so much about, I took as many history classes as I could, I studied his native language and I reached out to my grandfather, who remained “stateless” in Japan and whom I had never met.  All an attempt to bring me closer to knowing my dad and feeling part of family history.  

Which makes it funny to me – now – that in the years I was studying Russian, I would come home to practice with my dad.  One night, as I was rehearsing a short speech I had to give in class the next day, I was struggling over a particular phrase.  After coaching me for about fifteen minutes, my father finally through his hands up in exasperation, “You speak Russian like an American!”

And all I could do was stare and say, “Um, yeah. Whose fault is that?”

Reading this book trumps all my efforts.  Because it includes a very personal piece of my father, however unintentionally.  I have a benefit over most readers – I can hear his voice, I know his phrasing, and having this in black in white, in detail, brings a closeness to him and my heritage that I have not felt before.

When I look at my own journey, how can I be anything but grateful?  My own path has been from the coast of California to Japan, Greece, Ecuador, Paraguay, Massachusetts, Indiana and Florida.  I am the privileged daughter of a Foreign Service officer with an Ivy League education.  Despite all the moves, I always had a home.  My identity was tied to my country - no matter where in the world I lived, I was (am) an American.  My sense of self was tied to my family and my family history.  And my home was where ever my parents and brother happened to live at the time.  The hardships on my journey include one very cold winter in Boston when Harvard refused to cancel any classes and a year of living off ramen and eggs when my husband and I first married as poor graduate students.  The hardship of being an Army wife in modern America (my husband has been deployed six of the past 12 years) is only as tough as interrupted Skype calls, dying cell phones, the kids’ school events competing with work meetings, and occasional bouts of loneliness.

I am not belittling my life.  I am in awe of it.  Because this life was only possible through the incredible journey traced by my father in The Manchurian Tales.  And by the sense of self, and the home, he provided through his own amazing journey.

Happy Birthday, Dad.  And thank you.

Obstacle #19 in the Glass Obstacle Course

Natalie Hahn O'Flaherty

DGC Principal

Who put that in my way?  Did I?

I sat at my desk a few weeks ago, waiting for a coworker.  We’ll call him Kevin.  Kevin and I have a standard weekly meeting, which we normally conduct by phone since we work several states apart. This particular week, he traveled to my local office and so when I ran into him in the hallway earlier in the day, he confirmed he’d come by my desk at our usual time. 

Our meeting time came and passed… and I was still at my desk, waiting. 

Five minutes before our meeting was scheduled to end, Kevin stops by.  The apology for missing our meeting was buried in a joke. There was no acknowledgement that despite ready access to email, text and IM, he did not take fifteen seconds to let me know he wasn’t going to make our scheduled time.

This is where the glass obstacle analogy comes in.  Today, a small action – or rather inaction – does not stop me from doing my work or from having positive work relationships.  But what if Kevin made this a habit? And what if others observe this behavior and figure they can easily blow off meetings with me as well?  After all, I try to be accommodating and flexible: we are all so busy and it seems like a little thing, but it sets a precedent for future behavior.  Behavior that becomes an obstacle to my ability to function as a leader.

What really bothered me about the situation was trying to figure out what made Kevin think that it was ok to skip the professional courtesy of a call in the first place.  I thought about a few of our male coworkers with whom I knew he also had meetings that day.  And I am pretty sure if he was running late or about to miss one of those meetings, they would have received some sort of message about it.  After all, this was a business meeting. Was there something in my behavior that indicated that I did not require equal treatment to my male peers? 

  

This also puts the power structure of our relationship in Kevin’s hands.  I’m not into power struggles with coworkers – too much work – but I’ve also got things to do. And if I’m always adjusting my work to Kevin’s pace, my stuff may not get done.  And certainly not on the schedule I am trying to meet.  So there’s a balance to be managed here, where we collaborate and are both getting what we need.

How do I get around this obstacle… a seemingly harmless act of disrespect… without damaging what has been, so far, a productive and positive working partnership?

I suspect if I put the question to Kevin directly, he would be surprised that I interpreted the missing communication as disrespectful.  That lack of awareness raises the question of how men generally treat women in the work place.  And how we respond in return. Is it easier to skip the professional niceties with me because as a woman, I’m not as likely to make a fuss?  Did I invite this behavior because I laugh at his jokes?  Do I sound like a harpy if I call him out on it?  There are already myriad studies that show how women struggle with being liked in the work place – and drawing a firm line is one way we get pegged as being strident or aggressive.  Or to use Sheryl Sandberg’s term… bossy.

Mrs. Roosevelt had it partly right: we do teach people how to treat us.  So it’s my job to tell Kevin, “Hey, my time is valuable and if you’re going to miss an appointment, you need to let me know.”  But she only had it partly right because some patterns of behavior were taught long before we came into the picture.  Men and women do treat each other differently, and I have long held the belief that what we perceive as sexism in the workplace is not just perpetuated by men, but by women too.  Some roles and behaviors are familiar to us, even though they may not be the best behaviors for success at work.

I still don't know if this particular glass obstacle is one I nudged into my path or one that has been there a while and I finally tripped over it.  I suppose it doesn't matter.  I just know it's there.  But now that I've bumped into it, I can scale it.

How many obstacles do you run into that seem innocuous?  We are so ready to excuse them.  But step back and examine the pattern… are they really so innocent?