This One Time, I Got In Trouble…

This story is also available in audio form in S1E11 of The Café Grit podcast.

This one time, I got in trouble with the Compliance & Ethics Department.

What? Beth, YOU? No! You don’t violate ethics! Okay, we do acknowledge that you generally beat to your own drum, act a bit unstable on occasion, and you did once organize a protest when bacon was removed from the salad bar in the cafeteria…but you don’t get in trouble.

But I did. I was the subject of a compliance investigation at a previous job.

Before you start looking for the “Un-connect” button, let me explain. My violation involved team morale, Legos®, and cartoon medieval weapons. We can file this one under “wrong thing, right reason.”

The “right reason” was this: My team of seven GIS IT professionals were in a pit of hopelessness.

They were overworked, burned out, and completely devoid of all job satisfaction. Meeting madness, work coming at them like hailstones, and everything was a #1 priority. I could smell despair over the stale coffee and burnt microwave popcorn. Four of my team members were actively looking for other opportunities. Two of them had already been on interviews.

I hated it and I wanted to make it better.

The “wrong thing” was this: Using an app, I mocked up my team members into Lego® cartoon people, each with a coffee cup in one hand and a random weapon in the other. Our adopted team name was League of Extraordinary GIS and OMS Specialists…L.E.G.O.S. Hence, the connection.

Some of the characters had accessories (like a hat or pup-dog) and they all had bold, empowering captions. Their personas were printed and displayed on my outer cubicle wall like a giant badge of honor in defiance of That Which We Could Not Control.

I wanted these caricatures to represent the pure, raw awesomeness I saw in every one of my team, every single day.

Was a PowerPoint deck of Lego® people the answer to all of our problems? Absolutely not. But we bonded a little tighter, and for a very brief time we all had joy and laughter. That was a rare thing in those days.

Those cartoon spirits remained on my outer wall for nine months. Many people stopped by and complimented them. I’ll admit…it felt good. Then one day they disappeared. I was so busy myself that I barely noticed.

A few days later, I was called into my boss’s office.

“Hey, remember that Compliance Guy I told you about who was up here last week about that other thing?”

Vaguely.

He continued, almost apologetically. “Well, apparently while he was up here, he saw your Lego® pictures and now they want to open an investigation. He wants to meet this afternoon.”

Whoa. What? An investigation? Over my Lego® pictures? The same Lego® pictures that several other (and higher) managers had raved about? Those hilarious mock-ups with the funny captions? Our temple of team pride?

Yes, those Lego® pictures. They had been ripped from their sanctuary. And I was in trouble.

I will try to make a long story very short: I cried. I went home. Compliance Guy called me and told me that this was a “very serious investigation” with “a lot of pieces and parts and a lot of people to interview.” He insisted we meet later that day with HR. I cried some more.

I tried to wrap my brain around where this would go. Was it because I used “Legos” as our name? Did the Lego® people call? Did Compliance Guy think I used company equipment or materials or time (I had not)? It couldn’t be the ast*risked swear words…right? The executives used those all the time.

I dry heaved for a couple hours. Worrying. Wondering.

We had a one-way video conference call that afternoon. Conference call, because I was “home sick.” Video, because Compliance Guy needed to show me some things. One-way, because I have Ugly Cry Face and ain’t no way. Compliance Guy seemed very intense, even excited (my perception). An HR Dude and my boss were also present, they said very little.

I was asked some basic questions. Did I recognize the slides (Compliance Guy held one up to the camera)? Did I know how they got on the wall of my cubicle? Who put them there?

I answered honestly: I made them, I printed them, I displayed them.

Then Compliance Guy took a pause.

“HOW…AS A MANAGER…DID YOU NOT FIND THIS OFFENSIVE???”

Oh shit. I really did not even see that one coming. All morning, thinking through every angle of this, “offensive” never even crossed my mind. In the two seconds that I had to gather myself after this question, I had no answer other than “I don’t know.” Because “offensive” is subjective.

But, I kept that to myself and instead asked if he could please clarify what exactly he was referring to when he said “offensive.” Was it the cartoon people? The weapons? The asterisk*d swear words? The general “tough” tone of the captions?

“ALL OF IT!” He seemed exasperated, as if I had offended him personally. In retrospect, maybe I did.

So I explained what I had done. That my team’s morale was low and we were trying to do something fun. That it was meant to boost their spirits. I underscored that I had used my own computer, paper, printer, software.

When I was done, it was like a high pressure balloon had been deflated. HR Dude actually thanked me (twice) for my honesty. Compliance Guy calmed down a bit. To this day, I’m not sure if my being truthful was construed as a positive or a negative. I do not know for certain (I am not in anyone’s head), but it felt like at least one person in that room had been ramping up for some denial. Maybe even looking forward to it.

If I’m being honest.

I dry-heaved the rest of the afternoon.

I heard nothing for a couple weeks as I awaited my fate, and every minute of every day was excruciating. I thought I might get fired. I would have to drop HBO and stop buying those pricey organic cage-free eggs. I was truly devastated. I don’t get in trouble.

In fact, I did not get fired.

I did get punished. I won’t kid you, it was mostly a token punishment, involving writing, reflection, and a plan. After six months, assuming no other “incidents,” the whole thing would be expunged from my record, as if it never happened.

I was still confused. It’s a very weird thing when you get punished for trying to make people feel good. I didn’t get it. I was still angry and I perceived myself as a victim. But I was relieved nonetheless.

Six months came and went. Before closing out the incident and proceeding with the expungement, I had to meet with the director of the Compliance & Ethics team. Let’s call her Compliance Angel.

We gathered in a conference room, just her and me, and I immediately started to ramble. I felt like a failure but wasn’t sure why. There was still some closure needed but I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t really know what I was saying, or thinking, or feeling. Then I started to cry and that made me upset because I didn’t want to have Ugly Cry Face at work. I continued to ramble and weep and apologize for rambling and weeping until Compliance Angel put down her pen and gently stopped me.

“Did no one explain this to you?” she asked.

I shook my head. She sighed. And then she explained it to me.

Compliance Angel gave me a scenario. “What if, a year or two down the road, one of your team members needs to go on a Performance Improvement Plan? They could come back and claim they felt harassed by you, and point to these cartoon mock ups as evidence…even though they had participated in their creation. Maybe they even say they felt pressured to participate. They could say they were offended, even if they weren’t. It would put you and the company at risk for legal action.”

She elaborated a bit more, and gave me some other, real-life examples.

And suddenly, I understood. I wasn’t angry anymore. I got it. It made sense. I wasn’t a failure or a bad person. As a supervisor, I was held to a high standard and I had to think outside the box. Far out of the box. I had to get my head out of my own ass. Beth Campbell didn’t personally find the slides offensive and neither did many others. But that doesn’t mean that they weren’t offensive…to someone. Or that someone might come back later and claim that they were.

It wasn’t about swear words or medieval weapons or tough captions per se.

It was about the bigger picture. Protecting the company, and yes…even protecting me.

This incident is long over but the effects are still very much with me. As a manager, I am hyper-aware of what I say or write or do, now listening much more closely to that little voice that asks, could this come back to haunt you? How will this be perceived by someone unlike yourself? Is this going to hurt the company or put it at risk in any way? I am much more mindful of the role I play in looking out for the bigger picture even if it means holding back a bit. That’s hard for me. I do have four personalities and a fair amount of goofball inside this professional exterior. It’s not easy to keep that contained.

I would be lying if I said I regretted any of it. I don’t. I will never regret doing something nice for people I care about. And as hard as it was, I don’t regret getting in trouble for it. I learned a lot about failure, a lot about responsibility, and a lot about myself. Some good. Some not so good. But all roads lead to here, and whenever I can learn something valuable, it’s worthwhile. Even if it didn’t seem like it at the time.

As they say, adventure is never fun while you’re living it. I guess the same goes for getting in trouble. :-P