One of the first, formal performance reviews I had at work was about six years ago. Given I’ve been working for fourteen years this is a pretty poor frequency I grant you but what was one of my seemingly ‘best’ reviews was actually one of my worst. Why? Because, it gave me absolutely nothing and because the person who delivered it was a complete arse.
I think the general gist was “You’re doing brilliantly – carry on.”
Whilst at first glance this is good news (being told you are doing a good job is, after all, much better than being told you’re doing a bad one) but it leaves you completely ill-equipped to get any better. It demonstrates a complete absence of investment into line management too. Had my manager thought for a few moments longer he would have picked up on loads of stuff that a twenty-something me needed to do to get a darn sight better. Good constructive feedback given in a timely way would be preferable next time, if you don’t mind. Lazy, lazy, lazy boy!
Ok, so not everyone is very good and managing people. Some people are not very good at communicating either but that isn’t what this is about.
Some time ago before Marco Pierre White took over, Gordon Ramsay did a TV series where celebs essentially learn to cook. On one particular occasion I think they had to make omelettes or something (I can’t quite remember, forgive me). Each in turn had to place their burnt offering in front of the foul-mouthed master and each in turn was subjected to the predictable ritual humiliation. Then one (details, details...) took their turn and somewhat unexpectedly received something close to genuine praise.
I was struck by how this made me feel. How amazing must it be, I thought, to have such a compliment from Gordon Ramsay himself. What made it so amazing is simple enough. It’s because he is good at what he does. Bloody good in fact. He’s totally credible, no, world class in his field. If GR had complimented someone on their herbaceous border or a particularly exquisite water colour then it wouldn’t have the same bite. In my world if he expressed his awe at a perfectly constructed strategic brief then, nice though it may be, it would not have had the same impact. But getting a gold star for a cracking three-egg omelette from Gordon, well, who wouldn’t give their right arm for that.
I’m a sucker for a compliment, always have been. I crave acknowledgement, endorsement and a bit of puffing up. But it only really means anything when it’s from a source I respect and admire. That early review was as meaningless because of its originator as it was in its content and I resent the time I lost in my career at the expense of a muppet manager.
I’m happy to say that since then it’s been a different story and I’ve worked for some great people who have taught me a bundle. I hope I can do the same for my team now. Much like parenting, you won’t be very good if you never get a good example. And similarly it’s an enormous responsibility albeit unlike your children your team are more of a transient feature of your life.
Go forth and strive for greatness, dear readers. You never know who might right about you in cyberspace one day if you don’t...
30 Apr 2010
2 Apr 2010
Present imperfect?
It seems a long time ago when I won a trip round the kitchen at MacDonalds. We’d had to draw pictures of Ronald MacDonald at a primary school friend’s birthday party (on the party train - wohoo!!!!) and, as someone decided my random scribbles bore the closest likeness to the curly, red-headed one, I got the guided tour. Brilliant!
This you must understand was the pinnacle of the children’s party circle c. 1980. The trip round the kitchens was the single most exciting thing that had ever happened to me and was back in the good old days when Maccy D’s was considered a treat and not just ‘lunch’. I probably only went a few times as a child. It was that special.
My daughter is three now but I strongly suspect that by the time she gets to the age I was when I stood shivering in the big fridge we’ll have to ship her and her class off to Disneyland Paris for the weekend to reach the same excitement levels in our guests – call it kids’ party inflation.
We have about a party to go to at least every other weekend at the moment and we’re still at the nursery age. I love that my daughter has made friends and I hope they will be friends forever (unlikely I know but they are sooo nice) but I thought we’d only really get into this sort of territory from the Primary School years.
So far we’ve had a Tumbletots party (great exercise), a Princess & Pirates Parties (was tempted to send mine as Captain ‘Jacquie’ Sparrow but settled for a fairy princess as we had the outfit), half a dozen Crazy Barn parties (think large indoor playground made of padded scaffolding) but only one, proper house party (arguably the cutest but just think of the tidying up!). We’ve had Piñatas, presents for the guests over and above the party bags (when did you start having to do that?!) and mini-discos complete with dancing competitions and prizes (mine’s to blame for getting the whole of her room addicted to Alexandra Burke).
The cousin of the fabulous party is the fabulous party present. It is customary to take something with you to these parties by way of a gift of course – that much at least hasn’t changed since I was a child. I tend to opt for a few, very low ticket items partly as result of the number of these things we have to go to. Safe to say it’s worth throwing in a few toys next time you’re in Sainsbury’s (alright, 99p Stores) – you don’t know when you’ll need one but how far do you go? A recent conversation with one of the nursery mums suggested my highly thrifty approach might be out of kilter with the norm;
Her: “How much are you spending on presents?”
Me: *shrugs* “Er...”
Her: “About a tenner?”
Me: “Yeah, about a tenner.”
Yeah right! That’s about three parties’ worth.
I’d like to say that this is partly because I hope they wouldn’t spend more than a few quid on mine but is mainly because there are so many of the damn things.
It doesn’t stop at birthdays. It’s Easter and the other day she came home from nursery with three chocolate based Easter items. A Lindt bunny (which I have my eye on), a Smarties egg and the most adorable Thornton’s one – with her name on! It’s lovely and it’s not even from her boyfriend. This seems really rather generous and actually makes me slightly uncomfortable even though it’s totally lost on my daughter who probably couldn’t care less.
Like buying outfits for them we all need to fess up ‘cos it’s really all about us isn’t it. It matters to us that the other parents think we’re fabulous that we can work a full time job and still have the time to pull together a memorable party and Easter treats. And really, when you boil it right down it’s because we want to feel we’re doing the best we can for our kids – which isn’t all bad when you think about it.
Me, I’m thinking of throwing a Babyballet party next year but will probably start a fund now for the Sweet Sixteen because that is going to be expensive...
Jec
x
This you must understand was the pinnacle of the children’s party circle c. 1980. The trip round the kitchens was the single most exciting thing that had ever happened to me and was back in the good old days when Maccy D’s was considered a treat and not just ‘lunch’. I probably only went a few times as a child. It was that special.
My daughter is three now but I strongly suspect that by the time she gets to the age I was when I stood shivering in the big fridge we’ll have to ship her and her class off to Disneyland Paris for the weekend to reach the same excitement levels in our guests – call it kids’ party inflation.
We have about a party to go to at least every other weekend at the moment and we’re still at the nursery age. I love that my daughter has made friends and I hope they will be friends forever (unlikely I know but they are sooo nice) but I thought we’d only really get into this sort of territory from the Primary School years.
So far we’ve had a Tumbletots party (great exercise), a Princess & Pirates Parties (was tempted to send mine as Captain ‘Jacquie’ Sparrow but settled for a fairy princess as we had the outfit), half a dozen Crazy Barn parties (think large indoor playground made of padded scaffolding) but only one, proper house party (arguably the cutest but just think of the tidying up!). We’ve had Piñatas, presents for the guests over and above the party bags (when did you start having to do that?!) and mini-discos complete with dancing competitions and prizes (mine’s to blame for getting the whole of her room addicted to Alexandra Burke).
The cousin of the fabulous party is the fabulous party present. It is customary to take something with you to these parties by way of a gift of course – that much at least hasn’t changed since I was a child. I tend to opt for a few, very low ticket items partly as result of the number of these things we have to go to. Safe to say it’s worth throwing in a few toys next time you’re in Sainsbury’s (alright, 99p Stores) – you don’t know when you’ll need one but how far do you go? A recent conversation with one of the nursery mums suggested my highly thrifty approach might be out of kilter with the norm;
Her: “How much are you spending on presents?”
Me: *shrugs* “Er...”
Her: “About a tenner?”
Me: “Yeah, about a tenner.”
Yeah right! That’s about three parties’ worth.
I’d like to say that this is partly because I hope they wouldn’t spend more than a few quid on mine but is mainly because there are so many of the damn things.
It doesn’t stop at birthdays. It’s Easter and the other day she came home from nursery with three chocolate based Easter items. A Lindt bunny (which I have my eye on), a Smarties egg and the most adorable Thornton’s one – with her name on! It’s lovely and it’s not even from her boyfriend. This seems really rather generous and actually makes me slightly uncomfortable even though it’s totally lost on my daughter who probably couldn’t care less.
Like buying outfits for them we all need to fess up ‘cos it’s really all about us isn’t it. It matters to us that the other parents think we’re fabulous that we can work a full time job and still have the time to pull together a memorable party and Easter treats. And really, when you boil it right down it’s because we want to feel we’re doing the best we can for our kids – which isn’t all bad when you think about it.
Me, I’m thinking of throwing a Babyballet party next year but will probably start a fund now for the Sweet Sixteen because that is going to be expensive...
Jec
x
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