Learn From the Mistakes of Others.
Because it’s a heck of a lot easier than learning from our own.
How can we learn from the mistakes of others? You can start by learning from some of mine.
Know what hills to defend.
In 2006, I worked for one of the largest railroads in North America. I was working for a manager, we’ll call him Phil. Now Phil was the kind of person who was nice guy to strangers, and people above him. However, if you worked under his direction, he was like Satan himself.
Phil would curse out his subordinates for speaking up. I have first-hand experience of that. He ruled like an authoritarian. And he was not afraid to use his sickle and iron fist (metaphorically speaking of course).
I have a very strong stance on safety. In that, I believe it should take precedence over productivity. Business, and therefore productivity, stops if and when an accident occurs. Especially in the railroad. Because of my stance on safety, Phil agreed to let me be the safety manager for the facility. On top of my other responsibilities of course. And there was no additional pay. But that was okay. I wanted to make the facility safer than what it was. Even though the facility had only been open a matter of months, I was receiving reports of near misses on a daily basis. It was to the point that I believed it to be a matter of when, not if.
I began educating the employees on the facility about safety. Part of my daily briefing included the weather and a safety rule. If it was going to be raining, railcars get very slipper. If it was going to be hot, heat exhaustion is not to be messed with.
Well, one of my initiatives was to put stop signs up around the facility as well as speed bumps. This way it would help control the flow and speed of traffic. Phil didn’t want anything permanent, so he agreed to put up stop signs in concrete filled metal barrels. And temporary speed bumps.
It wasn’t long before all of the stop signs had intentionally run into. Some just had damage to the barrel. But most had nearly irreparable damage. The speed bumps had been dragged out of the way as well. And Phil didn’t seem to care.
Don’t allow pride to be your downfall.
I tried to talk to him about it. Before working at the railroad, I had been in the Army. You know what they say about the military and their filthy language? Well, that was nothing compared to what Phil had instore for me. Not only was he literally yelling at me, but he was cursing me out like I had just killed his favorite animal. And it was personal.
He yelled at me for nearly five straight minutes, before he told me to, “Get the ___ out of my office.”
At that time, I had only been working on that facility, and under his direction, for less than two months. Just as I barely knew him, he barely knew me. Yet he was comfortable enough rip me up one side and down the other.
A few months later, I tried to speak to him again about the safety concerns that I had. Unfortunately, nothing had changed. He cursed me out again, but it wasn’t as bad that time. Or perhaps I had become numb to it. Anyway, he told me, in not so many words, that productivity was more important than safety.
Needless to say, I didn’t stay with that company much longer. My pride said that I’d had enough. We separated ways near the end of 2006.
If you know it’s wrong, don’t give into pressure.
A few months later, in March of 2007, I decided that I wanted to go back into the Army. This time, I planned to go in as a commissioned officer. I had been enlisted before, and I knew how poorly they were treated. On the flip side, I also knew how well the officers were treated. And that’s what I wanted. I had my undergraduate degree and was part way through my masters. My pride said that I had to be an officer.
I arrived at Fort Benning, Georgia, in the early morning hours of Monday, June 11th. At the airport, they told me that I could ride the chartered bus to the base for free. Otherwise, the cab ride would cost $40. The bus was full of new recruits and me. Because of this, when we got there, they told me to get out and stand with the others. Okay, they yelled it.
As I lined up with the others, I explained that I was there for Officer Candidate’s School. I showed them my packet and orders stating as such. It was around one to one-thirty in the morning and they didn’t care. Instead, they planned to put me through basic training again. I had already been there, done that, and didn’t want to do it again.
Throughout that day and the next, I kept telling the drill sergeants that I wasn’t supposed to be there. Mind you, I’d been away for nearly 48-hours by then. Still, they didn’t care. It wasn’t until I talked to a sergeant at one of the processing stations. Note, he wasn’t a drill sergeant. He pulled me aside when I showed him my orders. I was told to stay put as he started asking around. Finally, I thought to myself, someone had listened to me. But by that time, they’d already shaved my head and had been treating me like slime on the bottom of their shoes for three days.
Needless to say, I had a bit of a chip on my shoulder. I had lost three days of preparation because of their incompetence.
The grass isn’t always greener on the other side.
After I got to the right location, I spent one week in the holding company for the school. This was where everybody was gathered before being transitioned over to an OCS company. A little shaken, but I was ready to start officer school.
Our first day of officer training was basically orientation. Getting our rooms together, our roommates, and familiarizing ourselves with the company area.
We started the next morning very early, around 4 am. The instructors came in yelling and screaming. They gave us five minutes to get our area ready and in formation for PT (physical training).
Of course, they knew five minutes wasn’t enough time. And we didn’t make it. Instead, it took all 93 of us seven minutes. Because we were late, we got smoked. Which meant they make us do pushups, burpees, flutter kicks, and whatever they felt like, until we reached muscle failure. And then they’d make us do more.
Prior to my arrival, I had been working out a lot. Even though it was tough, I was ready, I had spent months preparing myself for this. Both physically and mentally. Or so I thought.
Insanity is doing the same thing over again and expecting a different result.
That afternoon we went to an obstacle course. Again, only my second day there. We were doing a weaving log obstacle. This was where we had to, one at a time, go under and over the logs that were arranged in a triangle. We go up one side and down the other.
A female officer candidate was going through the obstacle at the time. We were all on the side watching. For whatever reason, one of the instructors thought that she might be getting ready to fall. He came up behind me and shoved me hard. By the size of him, it probably wasn’t as hard as he could’ve. But it was still a lot harder than he should’ve. He yelled at me to go up there to help her. Mind you, many had gone before her. He, nor any of the other instructors, had demanded a spotter for anyone else. Besides, I wasn’t even the closest one to her.
As soon as he shoved me, my pride stood at attention. I whipped around like I was about to throw a punch. But thankfully, I refrained myself. I just turned back around and remained standing where I was.
I should’ve seen the writing on the wall. That was the beginning of the end for me. Eight weeks later, I had had enough of them physically abusing me. By that time, the same instructor had nearly broken my neck and my arm. So, I went in front of the company commander to let her know what was going on. I wasn’t the only one this was happening to. I thought I was doing a good thing. For my efforts, of doing what I thought was right, she dropped me from the course. Even though I wasn’t the only one this was happening to, I was the only one to come forward.
Was what they did right? No. Did my pride get the best of me? You bet it did. Had I just kept my mouth shut, I would’ve graduated just like everyone else.
The sooner you learn from your own mistakes, the better off you’ll be.
I hadn’t learned to keep my mouth shut. My pride had taken over. I was presented with a similar situation, and I didn’t learn from my response the first time.
We don’t know if we’ve really learned something until we’re tested. If we do the same thing as we had done before, then we’ve failed.
Through both of these experiences, I learned a valuable lesson. Treat your employees well and they’ll give you their extra effort. Treat them badly, and they won’t stick around long.
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