COVID-19, Stories Told

Changing jobs during a pandemic

Even as I approached the building, all was strange. The front was still boarded up after last summer’s Black Lives Matter protests, the only such building on the block. My key card let me in the front door. It was irrational, I’m sure, but I thought it might not still work after not having used it in ten months. The lights were off in the lobby, as they were on my floor as the elevator doors opened.

My desk was as messy as I’d left it. I didn’t know when I took the week off in early March that I’d never use it again. The company ordered us all to work from home starting the Monday I was to return.

Fast forward to December. I received a fantastic offer from another company, one I would have been foolish to ignore. I took it. On my last day, I drove to my soon-to-be-former office to clean out my desk.

I’ve left jobs before, a dozen times. I have it down. I take stuff home little by little during my last two weeks so my desk is clear on my last day. After lunch I walk around and say personal goodbyes to everyone I can find who I ever worked with, wrapping up with my boss. Not only will I miss the people, who I genuinely enjoy, but also I want to leave a good final impression. The market I work in is small enough that I’m likely to work with some of them again. When I’ve said my final goodbye, I slip out the door.

This was all different. There had been a Zoom happy hour in my honor, which was a nice gesture. I said goodbyes in my normal meetings all during my final week. Anyone I didn’t see, I Slacked. But it all felt so disconnected.

Stepping off the elevator, the floor was silent but for the whoosh and hum of the HVAC. The last time I was on this floor it buzzed with such activity that I needed noise-canceling headphones to be able to focus. I sorted through my things, leaving a healthy portion of it in the wastebasket. I left my laptop and my key card on my desk, picked up my box, rode the elevator down, and walked out for the last time.

Monday morning I started at the new job. My commute didn’t change a bit: I came downstairs, sat at my desk, and started Zoom. But the faces I saw on the screen were all new.

The new company did a terrific job of onboarding, easily the best experience of my career. They committed to everyone’s first full week being nothing but group meetings with various people in the company telling us the company’s history and mission, how we make money, how administrative things work, and what our product looks like and how it works. We got to meet all of the executives.

Yet I kept wishing to see my old team in those little boxes. I really missed them! I always miss the good people I worked with when I leave a job, but never this acutely. But then, I didn’t get to say a proper goodbye.

This post also appeared on my software blog earlier this month.

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Personal

The wilderness years

One year ago today, I was fired from my job leading software engineers in a startup.

I’d been unemployed before, but never had I been so brutalized on my way out the door. I’ve had plenty of time to process it now, and I believe that the new VP wanted all of her own people in place. Two of my three peers were fired within her first month, and a third saw which way things were going and quit a month later. I didn’t feel great about things, but having just lost my father the last thing I could handle was a job search.

I was politically well connected and well liked, and I believe she knew it and realized she’d have to play a longer game to get rid of me. She strung me along with promises of a big promotion, and gave me duties she said were in line with that role but which ultimately removed me from the day-to-day duties of leading the engineers. I also participated heavily in preparing for the company’s Series A funding round. The lead investment firm, by the way, praised our engineering team, saying it executed better than any engineering team in their portfolio.

After the funding was secured, I found I had little to do. I started being left out of meetings and decisions. The VP also started questioning my ability to lead, offering as evidence that the chief architect and head of DevOps had lost respect for me. When I asked those two gentlemen about it, both expressed what looked to me to be genuine puzzlement over the VP’s statements. And then the axe fell, and I was out.

Astonishingly, six weeks later that VP was terminated.

As I’ve written before, it was very challenging to cut through my intense anger as I searched for my next job. But I managed to land a position that started the first of January. I still led engineers, albeit with a lesser title. It was a decent enough place to work and so I got on with it and tried to put what had happened behind me.

In January, a remarkable thing happened. The CEO of that startup contacted me to apologize for how badly I’d been treated. At first, it felt like he’d reopened the wound. But after my emotions settled, his apology helped me start the long process toward forgiveness.

I stayed at the new company just five months. I was lured away to an engineering leadership role at a growing, vibrant company with better pay and more responsibility — more than I had at that startup. I’ve been there about five months now, and I’m pleased to report that I’m truly happy there.

I’m happier than I’ve been in my career since 2011, when a big company bought the company I worked for. I’d been extremely happy there in a great job working with great people I trusted and enjoyed, but the big company ruined everything. I decided to try my hand in the startup world, which I did starting in 2013. I worked for three different startups between then and 2018.

But since 2011, it’s felt like I’ve been wandering in the career wilderness. I’m glad the wilderness years are over.

You can read all the posts in this saga here. If you’re curious, my LinkedIn profile is here.

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