Sharing Our Stories

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A number of years ago, I had the opportunity to conduct research on the impact of organizational downsizing on survivors. The project was sponsored by the Division President, so I began with the requisite senior management buy-in. I was, however, not sure whether the individuals I wanted to speak with would in fact be willing to speak with me. I also wondered whether if they did speak with me and agree to participate in the research, they would be open and honest. After all, they had just witnessed a significant number of their friends and colleagues being laid off or forced to retire, and clearly they had to be somewhat distrustful of the organization that they had previously seen as one that would provide them employment for life.

I decided to take a qualitative approach and set out to do both one-on-one interviews as well as group sessions. To ensure things were done properly, and to allay fears on the part of my interview subjects, I worked through the appropriate management teams and HR and made sure that everyone knew the purpose of the research, communicated that the comments would be confidential and that the research was not related to any pending resource action. As I set out, I hoped for the best, planned for the worst and armed with a tape recorder and note pad, started meeting with people.

What I discovered surprised me. Folks opened up, shared, cried and I had trouble ending every session. They allowed me to tape record them, trusted me to keep their confidences and poured out their hearts. What started out as a piece of communications research on the downsizing process, turned into something larger. Clearly the organization had made many mistakes in communicating about the layoffs and in its implementation, but that was only part of it. What was clear is that these individuals wanted to be heard. They were glad that someone was taking the time to seek their opinions and elicit how they felt. They wanted to share their stories and I was the only person that had bothered to ask.

As I consolidated the feedback from the downsizing survivors and prepared to meet with my sponsor, I was faced with a challenge that I had not previously experienced in my research career. The depth of emotion exhibited by those I spoke with was well beyond anything I had previously dealt with. I felt an obligation to tell their stories and make their feelings known. I was not sure what the Division President had expected to hear when he asked for this project to be undertaken, but I knew that I would not be able to feedback anything but the full scale of what had been shared with me. So, armed with the confidence of my convictions and some well put together PowerPoint slides, I communicated what I heard, told a few anecdotes, discussed how things could have been handled differently and made recommendations of what should be done in the future. I felt good about my presentation and the things I had uncovered. I was relieved that the message was well taken and that I was praised for my work. I went back to my office, wrote the requisite thank you notes and went on to my next project. Now, many years later, as I look back at this, I wonder whether the lessons learned were ever truly understood. Yes, the organization implemented many of my recommendations and fortunately, or unfortunately, as the case may be, the organization got much better at handling downsizing. But, did they ever learn to listen to the stories?

Most of us have a desire to share our stories, although we have different ways of doing so. Ultimately we want to be heard and we want someone to care. The employees I spoke to felt that an agreement had been broken and that they had gone from being viewed as valued staff to simply being a resource number of an accountant’s spread sheet. It was a rude awakening and a painful experience for them. They lost trust, and I sincerely doubt that they, or their co-workers were ever the same again. They had given their all, they would no longer do so.

Unfortunately, it has become a fact of business that human capital is the largest expense and often the first lever that is used when expense reduction targets need to be met. Management no longer trembles at the thought and when needed, the well documented plans are pulled out and executed. It is a sad thought, but American business has become really good at layoffs. But do American businesses understand what it does to their people, not just the ones that they let go, but to those left behind? I highly doubt it.

So, that brings me back to the stories. What the downsizing survivors I spoke to missed most of all were the communities they had developed at work. Work was not just a place they went to do a job and get paid, It is was about interacting with other people who listened to them and cared what they had to say. Now, as I sit here and write this, I wonder how much technology has propelled the explosion in blogging and social networks, or how much has been driven by the human desire to connect with others on a meaningful level. As we see faith in government plummet and confidence in businesses and institutions reach new lows, we have collectively reached out to one another. We have formed our own communities and we are, once again, sharing our stories. We do not need corporations or institutions to help us do this, but it would be nice if one day they understood its importance.