The Phoenix Project

by Gene Kim

“In short, I’d like you to resume your role as vp of it Operations, effective immediately. I’d like to work with you, as Erik coined it, as the two sides of a dysfunctional marriage. Maybe the two of us together can figure out what is really going wrong with how it is managed here at Parts Unlimited.

  “I’m convinced that it is a competency that we need to develop here. All I’m asking is that you spend ninety days with me and give it a try. And if at the end of the ninety days you still want to bail, then you can do so, with a one-year severance package.”

  Remembering my promise to Paige, I choose my words carefully. “You’ve been pretty consistent in being, as you say, a complete jackass for the past month. I’ve been very consistent in presenting to you my analyses and recommendations, over and over again. And each time, you’ve crapped on it. Why should I trust you now?”

  Forty-five minutes later, after Steve continually tries to woo me back, I hang up the phone and go back into the kitchen where Paige is waiting to hear what happened.

  CHAPTER 18

  • Tuesday, September 23

  The next morning, I’m driving into work at 6:30 a.m. for Steve’s it leadership off-site. He’s calling it an off-site, even though the meeting is in Building 2.

  Earlier this morning, I padded softly into Grant and Parker’s rooms to say goodbye. Watching Parker sleep, I kissed him and whispered softly, “Sorry that daddy couldn’t take you on an adventure today. It was your turn, but Daddy has to go back to work. This weekend, I promise.”

  This better be worth it, Steve.

  The meeting is in the corporate boardroom. Walking onto the fifteenth floor, I still can’t believe how different it is than all the other buildings.

  Chris, Wes, and Patty are already here, all holding coffee cups and plates full of pastries.

  Patty barely acknowledges my presence.

  Wes greets me loudly, saying sarcastically, “Hey, Bill. Nice to see you. I hope you don’t quit again today.”

  Thanks, Wes.

  Chris acknowledges me with an understanding smile, rolling his eyes and making the motions of getting a beer. I nod and smile, and turn to the back of the room.

  My mood brightens when I see the Vandal Doughnuts in back, and I start loading up my paper plate. As I’m trying to decide whether having six doughnuts on my plate is a breach of social protocol, I feel a hand clap me on my shoulder.

  It’s Steve. “Good to see you again, Bill. I’m glad you’re here.” Looking down at my overflowing plate, he laughs loudly. “Why not just take the entire platter with you?”

  “Good idea. Glad to be here,” I reply.

  Erik takes a seat right across from me, saying, “Morning, Bill.” Behind him is a large suitcase that he had lugged in.

  I squint at the suitcase. The last time I saw a suitcase without wheels was in my mother’s attic twenty years ago.

  Erik’s hair is dripping wet, soaking the shoulders of his denim shirt.

  Was he running late this morning and had to run out of his hotel without drying his hair? Or does he look like this every morning?

  Where exactly did Steve find this guy?

  “Good morning,” Steve says, addressing the room. “First, I appreciate everyone making it here so early. Especially since I know that you and your teams have been working incredibly long hours over the last two weeks.”

  “Ha!” Erik snorts. “That’s probably the understatement of the century.”

  Everyone laughs nervously, going to extra lengths to not make eye contact with anyone else.

  Steve smiles sadly. “I know that the last couple of weeks have been harrowing. I now realize just how much responsibility I bear for all of this. Not just for the Phoenix disaster, but everything leading up to the audit issues, the customer invoicing and inventory failures over the last couple of days, and the trouble we’re having with the auditors.”

  He stops, obviously distraught and needing a moment to compose himself.

  Is he tearing up?

  Now here’s a side of Steve you don’t see every day. What the heck happened to Steve after I left?

  He puts down an index card that he’s been holding, shrugs his shoulders and gestures to Erik. “Erik described the relationship between a ceo and a cio as a dysfunctional marriage. That both sides feel powerless and held hostage by the other.”

  His fingers worry at the card. “There are two things I’ve learned in the last month. One is that it matters. it is not just a department that I can delegate away. it is smack in the middle of every major company effort we have and is critical to almost every aspect of daily operations.”

  He says, “I know that right now, nothing, absolutely nothing, is more important to the company’s success than how this leadership team performs.

  “The second thing I’ve learned is that my actions have made almost all our it problems worse. I turned down Chris and Bill’s requests for more budget, Bill’s request for more time to do Phoenix right, and micromanaged things when I wasn’t getting the results I wanted.”

  Steve then looks at me. “The person I wronged the most was Bill. He told me things that I didn’t want to hear, and I shut him down. In hindsight, he was completely right, and I was completely wrong. And for that, Bill, I’m very sorry.”

  I see Wes’ jaw drop open.

  Completely embarrassed, I merely say, “All water under the bridge now. Like I said to you yesterday, Steve, apology not expected, but appreciated.”

  Steve nods and looks at his card for several moments. “The huge challenges ahead of us will require an outstanding team operating at their absolute best. Yet, we don’t completely trust one another. I know that I am partially to blame, but that needs to end now.

  “Over the weekend, I thought back on my career, which as you may know, could end at any moment, as my board has made clear. I know that my most rewarding times were always when I was part of a great team. That goes for both my professional and personal life.

  “A great team doesn’t mean that they had the smartest people. What made those teams great is that everyone trusted one another. It can be a powerful thing when that magic dynamic exists.

  Steve continues, “One of my favorite books about team dynamics is Five Dysfunctions of a Team, by Patrick Lencioni. He writes that in order to have mutual trust, you need to be vulnerable. So, I’m going to tell you a little about myself and what makes me tick. And then I’m going to ask you to do the same.

  “It may make you uncomfortable, but it’s part of what I need from you as leaders. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for the livelihood of the nearly four thousand Parts Unlimited employees and their families. I don’t take that responsibility lightly, and you shouldn’t either.”

  Oh, shit. That’s another part of “management off-sites” I forgot about. Touchy-feely crap.

  Steve ignores the skyrocketing tension in the room as everyone, like me, puts up their deflector shields. “My family was dirt poor, but I’m extremely proud to be the first one to actually make it to college. No one before me made it out of high school. Growing up in rural Texas, my parents worked in a cotton mill. During the summers, my brothers and I were too young to work there, so we’d pick cotton in the fields.”

  People picked cotton in the last century? I quickly do the math in my head, wondering if this was possible.

  “So there I am, on top of the world at the University of Arizona. My parents don’t have money to pay tuition, so I find a job at a copper mine.

  “I don’t know if osha existed back then, but if they visited that mine, they would have shut it down. It was dangerous and filthy.” He points at his left ear, saying, “I lost most of my hearing in this ear when some explosives went off too close to me.

  “I finally get my first big break when I land a job at a pipe manufacturing plant, helping with equipment maintenance. This is the first job where I’m paid to think.

  “I study management, and more than anything, I want to go into sales after college. From
what I see at the plant, those sales guys have the best jobs in the world. They get paid to wine and dine clients, and they travel from city to city, seeing what all the best factories are doing.”

  Steve shakes his head ruefully. “But that’s not how it turns out. To help pay for school, I join rotc where I get my first glimpse of what kids from middle-class America are like. And it means that after college, instead of going to work in industry, I have to fulfill my obligations to the US Army, which is where I discover my love for logistics. I make sure materials get to where they need to. Soon, I have a reputation of being the go-to guy when you really need just about anything.”

  I’m riveted. Steve’s a good storyteller.

  “But it’s hard being a poor country hick, surrounded by people from privileged families. I feel like I need to prove myself to everyone. I’m twenty-five years old, and I still have fellow officers constantly calling me dumb and slow because of my accent and upbringing…” he says, as his voice cracks slightly.

  “It makes me even more determined to prove myself. After nine years, I’m ready to leave the Army after a distinguished career. Right before I’m discharged, my commanding officer tells me something that changes my life.

  “He says that although I’ve gotten consistently high ratings over the years, without exception, none of the people who served under me would want to work with me again. He tells me that if there were an Asshole of the Decade Award, I’d win by a wide margin. And that if I want to make something of myself, I need to get this fixed.”

  In the corner of my eye, I see Wes roll his eyes at Chris, who pointedly ignores him.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Steve says, nodding at Wes. “But it’s one of the most crushing moments of my life, and I realize that I’ve made a critical mistake in how I was living my life, betraying my own values.

  “Over the next three decades, I became a constant student of building great teams that really trust one another. I did this first as a materials manager, then later as a plant manager, as head of Marketing, and later, as head of Sales Operations. Then twelve years ago, Bob Strauss, our ceo at the time, hired me to become the new coo.”

  Steve exhales slowly, rubbing his face, suddenly looking very tired and old. “Somehow, I’ve made the wrong turn again, just like I did in the Army. I’ve become that person I promised myself I’d never be again.”

  He stops talking and looks around the room. The silence goes on for a long time as we watch him stare out the window. The bright sun is starting to stream in through the conference room windows.

  Steve says, “We have big problems in front of us that we need to fix. Erik is right. it is not just a department. it is a competency that we need to gain as an entire company. And I know that if we can reforge ourselves into a great team, where we can all trust one another, we can succeed.”

  He then says, “Are you guys willing to do what it takes to help create a team where we can all trust one another?”

  Steve looks around the table. I see that everyone is looking back at him with rapt attention.

  The silence lengthens uncomfortably.

  Chris is the first to speak. “I’m in. Working in a screwed up team sucks, so if you’re offering to help fix it, I’m all for it.”

  I see Patty and Wes also nodding, and then everyone turns to look at me.

  CHAPTER 19

  • Tuesday, September 23

  At last, I nod, too.

  Patty says, “You know, Bill, I think you’ve done a fantastic job in the past couple of weeks. And I’m sorry for how I reacted when you quit. I’ve seen such a difference in how the entire it organization works. This is an organization that has resisted adopting any sort of process and had real problems with trust between departments. It’s amazing to see, and I give most of the credit to you.”

  “I’m with her. I suppose I’m glad you’re back, too, you big quitter,” Wes laughs loudly. “Whatever I might have said on that first day, I don’t want your job. We need you here.”

  Embarrassed, I just smile, acknowledging their remarks but not wanting them to blather on, saying, “Okay. Thanks, guys.”

  Steve nods, watching our interaction. At last, he says, “Let’s go around the table and have each of you share something from your personal history. Where were you born? How many siblings did you have and where did you fit in? What childhood events helped form you as an adult?”

  Steve continues, “The goal of this exercise is to get to know one another as people. You’ve learned a bit about me and my vulnerabilities. But that’s not enough. We need to know more about one another. And that creates the basis for trust.”

  He looks around. “Who wants to go first?”

  Oh, shit.

  Marines don’t like this kind of touchy-feely stuff. I immediately avert my eyes, not wanting to be called on first.

  Much to my relief, Chris volunteers.

  He starts off, “I was born in Beirut as the youngest of three children. Before the age of eighteen, I had lived in eight different countries. As a result, I speak four languages.”

  Chris tells us about how he and his wife tried for five years to have children, the agony of having to administer the fertility treatment injections to her, and just not being able to go through it a third time.

  Then he tells about the miracle of having identical twin boys, only to have complications, and having to stay with his wife in the intensive care unit for three months after they were born prematurely. And spending night after night, praying that they would be okay, and not wanting one twin to live his life without the other when they were destined to be able to understand each other in a way that no other person in the world could.

  And how this experience taught him how selfish he was and his newfound desire to be unselfish.

  To my surprise, I blink back tears, seeing Chris’ earnest aspirations for his kids’ future. I furtively notice others doing the same.

  “Thank you for sharing, Chris,” says Steve solemnly after a moment and then looks around the room. “Who’s next?”

  To my surprise and relief, Wes goes next.

  I learn that he’s been engaged three times in his life, and at the last minute, called off each one. And when he finally does get married, he quickly got divorced because she was tired of his maniacal car racing habit.

  How can a guy who weighs nearly 250 pounds race cars?

  Wes has four cars, and even if he weren’t a Parts Unlimited employee, he would be one of our most fanatic customers. He spends most of his off-hours working on his Mazda Miata and old Audi that he races competitively almost every weekend. Apparently, he’s struggled with a life-long battle to lose weight, even as a young child. He talked about being the outcast.

  He still battles his weight. Not to make friends or for his health, but to try to keep up with the skinny Asian teenage car racers half his age, even going to weight-loss camp. Twice.

  There is a long silence.

  I’m too nervous to laugh.

  Steve finally says, “Thanks for sharing, Wes. Who’s next?”

  I purse my lips together and am again relieved when Patty raises her hand.

  We learn that she was actually an art major. She’s one of those people I’ve made fun of all my life? But she seems so reasonable!

  She tells us what it’s like growing up being the “smart girl with big boobs and glasses,” trying to decide what to do in life. She switched majors five times in college, dropping out to become a singer-songwriter in Athens, Georgia, spending two years touring clubs around the country with her band. She went back to get her mfa but after confronting the potential poverty of making a living as an artist, applied to work at Parts Unlimited. She almost didn’t get the job because of a civil disobedience arrest that was still on her record.

  When Patty stops talking, Steve thanks her. And then smiling at my discomfort, he says, “Thank you. That leaves you, Bill…”

  Even though I’ve known this moment is coming, the room se
ems to fade out.

  I hate talking about myself. In the Marines, I was able to create a persona where I could just yell at people and tell them what needed to be done. I got paid to keep my people alive by being slightly smarter than they were and having great vocal cords.

  I do not share my feelings with work colleagues.

  Or with almost anyone, for that matter.

  I look at the notepad in front of me, where I’ve been writing down ideas of what to share. All I see is nervous doodling.

  The silence is nearly absolute, with everyone now looking at me expectantly. Not impatiently, I see. Instead, they seem patient and kind.

  I see Patty’s expression turn sympathetic.

  I purse my lips together for a moment, and then just blurt out, “What influenced me most? When I realized that my mom did everything for us, and that my dad was completely undependable. He was an alcoholic and when things weren’t going well, all my brothers and sisters hid from him. But it got to a point where I finally had enough and ran away. And I left them behind. And my youngest sister was only eight years old.”

  I keep going, “You know, getting arrested was one of the best things that ever happened to me. The alternative was having to go home. So instead, I joined the Marines. That introduced me to an entirely new world, where I learned that there was a totally different way of living your life. It taught me that you could be rewarded by doing things right and taking care of your fellow soldiers.

  “What did I learn? That my main goal is to be a great father, not like the shitty father I had. I want to be the man that my sons deserve.” I feel tears starting to fall down my cheeks, which I wipe away, angry that my body is betraying me.

  “That good enough for you, Steve?” I say with a lot more anger than I had intended.

  Steve nods with a half smile, saying slowly, “Thank you, Bill. I know that was as difficult for you as it was for all of us.”

  I exhale slowly. And breathe deeply one more time, trying to regain some equilibrium that I hadn’t realized I’d lost.

  The uncomfortable silence goes on.