Spring 2002. With the economic downturn following the attacks of Sept. 11 sending corporate bottom lines reeling, the sad but inevitable component of a human resource professional’s job description descended upon me for the first time: layoffs.
At least I did not have to inform the employees myself. That burden fell on the partners at the firm. But immediately following an employee’s dismissal was their discussion with the H.R. rep. When the time came for the first termination meeting in our New York office, where I am based, the partner asked that I put a box of tissues in his office. “Tears happen a lot,” he lamented. As if I wasn’t already nervous enough.
There I sat in my own cube with clammy hands, beating heart and a feeling that I would not have any words of wisdom. Maybe my nerves were ultimately tied to the reality that I could not say much of anything. Give the facts about their health insurance coverage going forward and share some free counseling resources. Keep it professional. But respect and dignity are core values of the company and big reasons why I have stayed so long. How do I still convey those pillars and remain emotionless?
Did I want to willingly partake in such a painful milestone for others?
The meeting was uncomfortable. But it was not as bad as I feared. The employee, a technology consultant, did not get outwardly upset; she didn’t say it was my fault; she didn’t say this was unfair. I know I said “I’m sorry” at the very least (how could I not?), but I still felt paralyzed about what else I could do. And, as a Christian, the guilt and the ensuing self-evaluation persisted. Was this really a job I wanted to be involved in if I had to willingly partake in such a painful milestone for others?
As the years went by, I began to get more experience with these discussions. I never became desensitized but I had a better feel for it. In one instance, an employee I had to meet with after termination was very upset but told me, “I’m glad it was you I talked to.” This was the first time I realized that being the H.R. rep across the desk from someone I knew provided comfort for them. I used to think my presence meant that I would be seen as the traitor. Now I could see that being a good Christian in these discussions was an unexpected but vital form of ministry.
Cut to 2008, though, and I was beginning to feel like George Clooney in “Up In The Air.” In the movie, Clooney plays Ryan Bingham, an executive hired by companies all over the country to fly in and give termination notices. Ours is a large firm, and New York one of the country’s biggest offices. I was one of the last remaining H.R. representatives to work in the office, as most reps opted to work from home. I became an obvious choice to handle the H.R. portion of many of the terminations for our New York employees. And like Ryan Bingham, I was expected to be all business and no emotion.
There is good, humane public relations in supporting people at a low point but it is also consistent with being a good Christian.
But before I did or could become numb to the job, the economic crash of 2008 that bled into 2009 claimed another position: mine.
The day before I was let go, I received an Outlook calendar invite aptly titled “Career Discussion.”And so it went. An H.R. manager whom I’d known for many years delivered the message by phone. I appreciated that he began by saying “I wasn’t able to sleep very well last night.” Neither had I. In fact, on that cold and gray November day, I decided I would not tell my parents for another full week.
But maybe the strict guidelines I’d been given years before about steering clear of sympathy were eroding for the company, or at least for this H.R. manager who had shared that he lost sleep over the prospect of my being terminated. It was an indication that he would treat me with dignity and honesty.
Over time, a fired employee may be able to understand how the job might not have been the right fit for them.
For, in the end, don’t Christians want to impart values of support and encouragement to the people who provided us with dedication and loyalty? Sure, there is good, humane public relations in offering support to people when they hit a low point, but it is also consistent with being a good Christian. This is a critical period in which H.R. can step up and fulfill the “human” and “resources” components so vital to the process. We can be both compassionate and helpful to the person.
As it happens, a painful component in the termination discussion is the tough (albeit human) talk about the employee’s weaknesses. I suppose the H.R. rep could have just told me I was being fired, but it is our company’s practice that the individual should get rationale, too. And, while decreasing overall H.R. numbers was one of the reasons I was let go, he did need to enumerate how I had been falling short.
Hearing about your shortcomings is not fun. And you don’t agree with all of the weaknesses they indicate. But, given further time to digest it all, a fired employee may be able to understand how the job might not have been the right fit for them.
So yeah, now I am the H.R. rep that has given the pink slip by the H.R. lead. And I couldn’t help but think back to a memorable quote from “Up In the Air.” When Ryan Bingham fires an employee named Bob (played by J. K. Simmons), Bingham tells him, “Anybody who ever built an empire or changed the world sat where you are now. And it’s because they sat there that they were able to do it.” In order to be great, you need to have dealt with the blow of being laid off at one time.
Cut to five months later and I was back at my old firm in a contractor capacity. My salary was comparable, though my benefits were certainly not. But it started me back on the road to doing what I enjoy most within human resources: guiding our most junior employees. I use my experience as best I can so that, hopefully, my employees might never have a conversation that begins with someone saying to them, “I wasn’t able to sleep very well last night.”
When someone does get notice of a job termination, I let them know how I can relate and empathize. My own job elimination prompted me to look at my strengths and weaknesses in a way that I never had before. I can guide them in gaining a better understanding of what they may really want to do and how they can get there.
Some people were surprised I would go back to a firm that had let me go, but I knew my own spiritual calling was leading me back and in a far more mature frame of mind than before. Corporate America not only has room for Christian values such as kindness, mercy and integrity, it needs them.
