Six weeks ago, I saw a picture of a great friend sitting around a bonfire alone and on his laptop. It was the end of summer, the sun was setting over the lake, and the view was majestic but, it was a Saturday night. Knowing how much I care for this person, I put my head in my hands and began to weep like a child. The kind of weeping where your shoulders shrug so hard they could dislocate. It was the type of crying you experience when you know how easy it is to relate. At least it was in my case because I was sitting in my office doing the same thing at the same time he was.
Our friends were over at the house. My kids were outside asking where I was and when I would be off work. Meanwhile, my amazing wife was holding it down while I did everything I could to catch up. At the one time, I knew no one would need to reach me on a Saturday night. But this wasn't my company's fault. It wasn't my boss telling me I had to work. If you had told him we were working at that moment, he likely would have called me to say to me shut it down. No, I was on our leadership team. I was partly responsible for our process, for setting the example and the tone for our culture. I was the one who has always told my team how valuable "discretionary effort is." I was just as much to blame as anyone else. I was the one that did this to himself.
For as long as I can remember, this country has been dissecting the "great resignation" and trying to understand why so many companies are not only losing people but, more importantly, can't find good people to replace them. I believe it's a fair topic to discuss because I think it's a significant problem. Every single fast food restaurant in the small community I live in is only open because they have a drive-thru. All of the lobbies are closed. Some of them even have a sign on their doors that asks for empathy and understanding from customers. Recently, I heard a story about a grocery store clerk who was sobbing in the restroom because everyone was "so rude to her." My brother, who works construction, has been six days a week for as long as he cares to remember. When my brother is not working six days a week, he's easily putting in a dozen hours a day. I could go on and on about teachers, nurses, doctors, factory workers, servers, and don't even get me started on the guy who delivers your packages on Sundays.
