Forget the Yellow Brick Road

by Liz Green

  Coincidentally, Scott Crow was now the manager of the department into which Dorothy was responsible for transitioning the core functions of her previous department. It had been wonderful to have a friendly and supportive colleague to work with throughout the change-management process.

  During this time, Trent had been busy building a reputation for himself in The Firm and a reputation with the ladies. His boundless energy had ensured that he always had time to work hard and play hard, but also to always meet for Friday night drinks a tradition Dorothy and Trent had started five and a half years before. The tradition now included Scott, who regularly joined them on Friday nights.

  Now that Dorothy’s project was finally coming to an end, two of her team members had found jobs in other firms and moved on. Just she and Tim Woods were left to tie up loose ends.

  Based on her first impression, Dorothy thought the strikingly handsome, toned, six-foot-three Tim would be arrogant and self-absorbed. Instead, he was a genuinely nice guy.

  Approximately four months into the transition project, Dorothy was working back late on some in-depth analysis and workflow documents that were urgently required for a training program. The documents had to be delivered the following day. Only on completion did she realise how late it really was when she was disturbed out of her trance by the sound of the cleaners vacuuming.

  As she shut down her computer and gathered her things, she felt her stomach rumble. She was wondering what she would have for dinner considering it was so late in the evening. Heading toward the elevator she bumped into Tim walking out of the men’s restroom.

  “Haven’t you gone home yet, Tim?” asked Dorothy.

  “I thought I was the only one silly enough to be here at this hour!” She rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders.

  “It seems we are both gluttons for punishment!” replied Tim as he continued walking past Dorothy back to his desk.

  Dorothy moved toward the elevators but then hesitated and called back to Tim. “Have you eaten yet? I’m probably going to drop into the Chinese place around the corner. Interested in some sweet and sour pork?”

  Tim started to shake his head but then looked down at his own watch and realised the time. “Sure. Why not? Better than frozen pizza.”

  It was a beautiful evening. Spring brought with it beautiful warm days and fresh evenings with clear skies. Tonight was no exception. The sky attempted to peek through the office buildings towering high above them. Although the Chinese restaurant had only a handful of diners scattered at its tables, Dorothy preferred to order takeaway and eat their meals sitting by the harbour. After sitting inside all day in their grey surroundings, Dorothy insisted to Tim that it was necessary to their health and well-being to walk a little and breathe in some fresh air.

  Perched on a park bench overlooking the harbour, Dorothy and Tim ferociously scooped their dinner into their mouths, as though it had been days since their last meal. As their food hit their bellies, they began

  to talk.

  Dorothy shared with Tim the journey of her career to date her experience in the graduate program after finishing university, her experiences with the dreaded Wendy West, her role as a business analyst, the excitement of working on the cross-functional task force, the shock of the department closing, and finally her selection as manager of the transition project.

  Tim’s story was a little different. Tim Woods was a handsome guy with dreams and hopes for his career that were well beyond what anyone else in his family had ever achieved. He remembered sitting at the family dinner table listening to his mother and father complain about their jobs each and every evening. When Tim was about fourteen years old, he asked his parents why they just did not go and get new jobs if they were unhappy and did not like the jobs they had. The solution seemed so obvious and quite simple to Tim. The question was not received well by Mr. and Mrs. Woods.

  “When you’re older, Tim, you’ll understand,” his father said. We are Woods, and Woods come from a long line of working-class people, proud of their place in life. It is not our place to question that or rock the boat. And even if we wanted to, changing jobs is too hard and too risky. We have a family to provide for, you know!”

  At that moment, Tim vowed that he would never allow himself to be in the same position as his parents. Tim stayed true to his word by working hard at school to earn a scholarship to study at university. He was the first Woods to graduate with tertiary qualifications. Finding his first job after graduating was not as easy as he had hoped, but within three months, Tim landed his first job, at The Firm.

  Tim worked extremely hard and was quickly promoted to team leader due to his ability to cut through complicated issues and resolve them with little fuss and expense to the business. While in this role, Tim met Marianne, a sweet and charming girl in payroll. After a whirlwind romance, they fell desperately in love and eloped. In their first year of marriage, they became parents to a healthy baby girl. Tim loved being a family man and enjoyed the confidence his career gave him and the security it provided for his wife and daughter.

  Three years ago, when his daughter was only six months old, Tim’s wife was in a terrible accident and passed away. It was a gut-wrenching time for him. While having to stay strong for his daughter and continue to love her and care for her, he suffered with episodes of depression. He questioned the fairness of his beautiful wife’s life being cut short.

  “Despite my mother helping me out by minding my daughter while I’m at work, I just haven’t been able to progress my career. The pressure of being a widowed single father has really hindered my success.” Tim told

  Dorothy.

  As Dorothy listened, she was saddened to learn that Tim’s dreams and aspirations had been shattered. She had no idea that things had been so tough for him.

  “So, have you started making plans for your next role? It will not be long until our temporary positions come to an end,” asked Dorothy.

  She wanted to ask him more about his wife and daughter but sensed he was close to tears and decided to keep the conversation work related.

  “I haven’t been offered anything, so I suppose they will let me go once the project is over,” he said. His reply was tainted with fatalism.

  With kindness, Dorothy replied, “Come on, Tim. What happened to those dreams and hopes you started your career with?”

  As Tim looked out to the harbour where the boats enthusiastically bobbed and the city lights twinkled and sparkled with joy, he quietly said, “They’re long gone now.”

  Dorothy decided all Tim needed was a plan. Actually, she would soon need a plan, too.

  “You need to meet my friends Trent and Scott,” she said “They have been great support to me over the years. In fact, you already know Scott Crow. He’s the manager of the new department we are working with now. We go for Friday night drinks at the local pub every week.” Dorothy was sure that Tim would get on famously with the boys, and meeting them was just what he needed.

  Tim did not seem interested, however. In fact, he now looked even more disheartened. “Sorry, Dorothy, but I need to be home with my daughter. I like to read her a story and tuck her into bed at night.”

  Dorothy realised how inconsiderate she had been. If Tim was a single father of a three-and-a-half-year-old, he was not going to be able to go to the pub on a Friday night.

  “Maybe we could find somewhere else to go?” Dorothy started.

  Tim’s eyes lit up. “I would be happy for you to come around to my place,” he said.

  The following week, Trent, Scott, and Dorothy met at Tim’s house for Friday night drinks. Tim’s house was warm and cosy, the floral curtains were the most obvious feature to suggest it had been decorated by a woman. The home was perfectly maintained. There was a family portrait of Tim, Marianne, and their newborn daughter proudly displayed on the mantel. Toys were spilling out of a toy box in the corner, and the distant sound of a musical lullaby drifted into the dining room from the end of the hall.

&nbs
p; “I’ve brought pizzas,” Trent exclaimed as he moved past Tim to place the boxes on the table.

  “And I’ve brought the drinks,” announced Scott.

  While subtly keeping one eye on Tim, Dorothy said, “And I proclaim tonight we devise strategic plans to help me and Tim find our next jobs so that we know what we’re going to do once the transition project is over.”

  Tim turned to walk into the kitchen, allowing himself a secret smile and a sigh of relief.

  Another few months later…

  CHAPTER 6

  Catherine Lyons

  Catherine Lyons had been working in corporate recruitment for several years now. Her plan was to use the role as a stepping stone into her preferred interest, which was to work in organisational learning and development. As it turned out, the career shift was not quite as simple as that. Catherine had found herself pigeonholed as a recruiter. She was fearful that, although she was good at her job, she would never be able to land her ideal job.

  Raised in the country but with big-city dreams, Catherine was known for her warmth and honesty and a charm that enchanted those around her. After years of frustration in finding other people jobs and not being able to find one for herself, she began to take her frustrations out on those around her. She became brash and aggressive, traits she detested in others, let alone in herself.

  Catherine was scheduled to meet with a potential recruit for a management position she was struggling to fill with the ideal candidate. She had spent weeks searching for and interviewing both internal and external candidates through referrals, but still no one met the brief. She doubted that the person she was to interview today would be any different from all the others, but because the woman was an internal candidate, Catherine was obliged to follow through.

  After the transition, Tim had found a new job but was now no longer working for The Firm. With the help of his friends, he was able to identify what he really wanted out of his next job. Together they developed a plan that assisted him in successfully achieving the next step. Tim was now working closer to home and working shorter hours than he did when he worked for The Firm. He was also able to spend more time with his daughter, who was growing up quickly.

  Dorothy, however, continued working for The Firm, as she was convinced that she was destined to stay on that path. She had hoped to find a more senior role because she loathed the thought of changing jobs without making an upward move. Management roles, however, were thin on the ground as The Firm had rationalised and reduced much of middle management to flatten out the organisational structure. When the transition project ended, Dorothy had to take a similar project role in another area of the business. Although the role was not another rung up the ladder, at least it was a sideways step, thought Dorothy.

  After several months, however, Dorothy became bored and struggled to stay focused. In her head, she knew that if she let the quality of her work drop, others would begin to notice, and it could damage her chances for promotion. In her heart, she was losing motivation and knew she needed a new challenge.

  Late one Friday night at Tim’s house, as the four friends were chatting over coffee, Dorothy began to complain about not being happy in her job. This complaint was nothing new to the friends. They had been listening to the same story for weeks now. Trent was tired of being ‘nice’ and supportive and decided now was the time for them to snap Dorothy into action.

  “Dorothy, what is it that you are waiting for? Someone to come and tap you on the shoulder and say, ‘Hey, Dorothy, great job you’re doing there, and I bet you’re looking for another job. Why not come and work for me?’” Trent said sarcastically.

  The group fell silent. Scott and Tim were reluctant to look up from their coffee cups, and Dorothy glared at Trent. As the moments passed, still no one said a word. Scott could not stand the deafening silence any longer and broke the ice.

  “He is right, you know, Dorothy,” Scott said gently. “If you want that management job, you have to go out and find it. Waiting for the job vacancy to appear on the company intranet is not going to do it. You need to get out there, develop relationships, and get yourself on the radar of the people that matter.”

  Dorothy listened to Scott with resentment. She knew he was right. How had she found herself in this position? “You’re right. You’re both right,” she said. “As of Monday, things will be different, and within three months, I guarantee you I will have that job!”

  So, Dorothy set about networking with the right people. She also continued to work hard in her current role to demonstrate that she was capable and an ideal employee and manager. Within eight weeks, Dorothy was tipped off about a job. The Firm ideally wanted an internal candidate, but, to this point, it had not found the right person. She was given the name of the recruiter: Catherine Lyons.

  On the morning of the scheduled interview with Catherine, Dorothy was nervous. It had been a long time since she had interviewed for a job that she wanted so much. Dorothy promised herself she would remain confident and self-assured; she would not appear desperate. Awkwardly sitting on a low and extremely soft leather armchair in the reception area, Dorothy struggled to sit in a fashion that looked comfortable yet professional. At times like these, she thought, why did it so often feel as though you were an animal waiting for slaughter? Dorothy did not have time to ponder the thought any further as Catherine appeared from behind the glass doors and invited her into the meeting room.

  “So, Dorothy, what’s so special about you?” asked Catherine abruptly.

  Dorothy was taken aback by Catherine’s direct question and dominating presence. Caught off guard, Dorothy began to stumble over her words, but she tried desperately to remain cool and calm under the pressure. The mood of the interview changed very little. Catherine aggressively barraged her with questions, while Dorothy attempted to respond with intelligence and grace. No matter what Dorothy said, it seemed that Catherine’s opinion of her did not shift. She could feel the potential new job slipping through her fingers.

  As the interview drew to a close, Dorothy felt the walls of the meeting room closing in on her. The wall clock to her right seemed to tick louder and louder with every second. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the feet of employees passing by the frosted glass walls of the meeting room, seemingly at a running pace, as if to escape some horrible disaster. Little did they know, she thought, the disaster was unfolding in this room.

  “Right. Well, that’s it then, Dorothy,” said Catherine. “Is there anything else you would like to add?”

  There were so many things Dorothy wanted to say to make it all better, to fix this disaster, and land herself that management position, but the words escaped her. To her shock and horror, however, she did find some words. As Dorothy picked up her handbag and headed for the door, she said, “So, Catherine, what’s so special about you?” Without waiting for her response, Dorothy left.

  Dorothy’s friends knew she had the interview that morning, so Trent and Scott arranged to meet with her for lunch for a debriefing. Dorothy was in no mood to go to lunch now, but she knew there was no escaping it and reluctantly made her way to the cafe.

  When she arrived, she saw the boys sitting, eagerly waiting for her. They had been so good to Dorothy and supportive in all that she had done, and now she had gone and made a right royal mess of things. She sat down and dejectedly shared the morning’s events. As she reached the punch line, the boys gasped in shock and chuckled at her audacity. Then her phone rang.

  “Dorothy, it’s Catherine Lyons. Do you have time for a coffee?” the voice said. The look on Dorothy’s face sparked Trent and Scott’s interest enough that they were signalling to find out who it was.

  “Sure, Catherine. I’m just having some lunch at the cafe downstairs,” replied Dorothy, surprised.

  “Great, stay put, and I’ll meet you down there. I need to grab a bite to eat anyway,” Catherine said and then disconnected the call.

  Trent and Scott were perched on the edge of their sea
ts, wide-eyed, waiting to hear what Catherine had said.

  “She’s coming down here now to have some lunch with me,” Dorothy said in disbelief.

  The boys looked at each other with a smile, as they were keen to meet this Catherine Lyons to whom Dorothy had spoken in a way that was so out of character for her.

  “You two better get out of here before she arrives,” Dorothy said.

  “No way. We want to meet her,” said Trent.

  There was no time for arguments. Dorothy saw Catherine emerge from the elevators and proudly stride toward them. Dorothy hurriedly ordered Trent and Scott to take their lunch with them and go. Catherine arrived at the table just as Trent and Scott slid out from the bench seats and excused themselves.

  Sliding into one of the seats herself, Catherine asked, “Who were they? I think I recognise them.”

  “The tall skinny guy is Scott Crow, and the other is Trent. They are two of my best friends. You probably recognise them because they both work here at The Firm,” replied Dorothy.

  Catherine was reading the menu and appeared quite comfortable to be sitting opposite Dorothy despite the morning’s events. Curiosity got the better of Dorothy, and she could not help but say, “So. Catherine, I guess I should apologise for what I said this morning.”

  The waiter arrived to take Catherine’s order before she had a chance to respond. Dorothy attempted to appear collected, but she was nervously fidgeting with her hands under the table, cracking her knuckles. As the waiter walked away, Catherine said, “Honestly, Dorothy, there is no need for you to apologise. In fact, it should be me who apologises. Over the years, I have become more and more direct and impatient with my interviewees, and you just held up a mirror to me, which others have obviously been too afraid to do.”