I as mentioned earlier, my office moved this week. To give you some idea of what that entailed, here's some facts: it's an office of about 125 people, a regional office that services about 30 stores and is part of a national (international, actually - but that's just due to the few Canadian stores, and the 6 British ones) chain, a large organic grocer, which shall remain nameless. I worked in the old regional office, which had been in SF, but worked elsewhere when they moved 11 or so years ago, so I missed it that time. Co-workers who went through both (and there's a lot; my company produces an disproportionately high number of "lifers" or people who are going to work there all their life) complained that this one was worse.
The last one was trans-bay (from SF to Emeryville) but they knew where they were headed, and all they had to do was pack it up, have some company crate it across the bay, and unpack it. This one was more complicated, because we're remodeling our current space, which means moving twice - once out, so they can remodel, and once back in. The temporary space was hard to find, and we had to push a few folks out to the field who were previously mostly office-bound.
I was one of those sent out into the field, except I got to return to the facility I last worked for, which is an 8 minute, rather than a 30 - 45 minute, commute, so that's nice. Also, I know a bunch of people there, and that's nice too. In fact, the only downside is the sort of disruption and, I imagine, slow-down of work that's sure to ensue. But the old office was really a mess - a series of suites my company took over, one by one, from other companies, so that we were not only bursting at the seams (not a free cube) but also literally in different offices. We all used to do a lot of aimless walking around, so awkwardly was it layed out.
So, everyone is actually kind of jazzed for the new space, but as we all know, it's no fun to move. In fact, most people dread it. Personal moving is bad enough, but work moving: ugh. All of the disruption and inconvenience, but none of the sense of new beginnings or personal progress, as you usually have no control over it all. In this case, complicated construction plans resulted in us realizing, more or less suddenly, that our move-out date was much closer than anyone really expected, and the time for leisurely planning of a large process like a giant office move had long since passed.
As usual (and as I mentioned), I ended up overseeing one aspect, communications (along with my partners, who handled construction, logistics, IT and operations), and, informally, morale. People got a little worried, a little freaked out, because this giant operation just appeared out of nowhere, it seemed, and seriously was a pain in the ass, as only moving can be. You have to drag though all your possessions, and decide if you want to keep them or not. Oy vey! How excruciating...making all those decisions. The higher up in the corporate chain I get, the more I realize they are paying you not for all your actions, but for all your decisions. That's tiring.
So, everyone was a bit crusty, and bummed, and we all felt behind. The graffiti on the walls helped - gave people an outlet, or a chuckle. But there was something behind the actual work and decisions and confusion and facing the uncertainty. We were also all depressed at the waste. There was so very much of it. Waste in various forms: confidential papers that must be shredded (and, thank goodness, then recycled), items that are perfectly useful for someone but no longer us (binders, older furniture, food samples galore), and, the worst of it all, e-waste. E-waste is horrible, awful - it's as horrifying a thing as there is.
Now, I work for a company that truly supports the environment and makes purchases based on that belief, but even we ended up with an inordinate amount of crap: plastic, metal and toxic hybrids of materials I can't even guess at but feel certain should never had been combined on Mother Earth. We piled up our e-waste in one area, preparing for the e-waste pickup, and I tell you: it was a room (a regular 10 x 10 room) completely full - in most places, at least knee high, and in too many places, chest high. That's too much e-crap. No one who looked it there knew how to feel, except there was an element of feeling bad along with whatever else.
I don't mean to be a downer, but there are indeed all these things in modern times that are heartbreaking, but yet must be acknowledged. They also need to be dealt with, although luckily not all of us have to deal with everything - if each of us do a little, that would work. This, actually, is one of the world's biggest problems: too many people doing not enough. In order for everyone to do a little, everyone has to do at least some; otherwise, too many do too much, and they get sick of it, tired out, and ultimately are defeated.
I remember seeing a speaker - maybe Jello Biafra, I can't remember - saying it's like this: the problems of the world are this big pile of shit. Every little thing in the world that can be helped, fixed, improved or alleviated by some human effort - which is, essentially, pretty much every problem on earth except for the wild card like a meteor strike - can be done with more ease if everyone, every single person, works at it, just a bit. Each person just has to take one or two bites of shit, and behold, the pile is gone!
But that's not what happens. Some people don't want to eat shit. I mean, who does, but some people refuse to do it, even though it means - and they know it means - everyone else has to eat more shit. "Why should I eat shit?" they say. "Because everyone has to eat shit," the rest of us say. "We've got to deal with this pile of shit." "Well, I'm not going to," they insist, and then the rest of us do indeed then have to deal with it, one way or the other. Either try and force those shit-shirking folks into eating some, or just let them be and do it yourself. Neither works well, and we get either conflict, or burned out. You've seen activists that get burned out? It's because they had to eat too much shit, and finally couldn't take any more. Who can blame them, really?
This is kind of the way I see people, by which I mean, I don't want to judge people, but I do want to make some sort of distinction about who they are and what they do, and you can easily see if a person is the kind who is willing to eat some shit with the rest of us, to get it done and then relax and go have a smoke in the backyard, or if they are the kind who insist they are above it all and the rest of us better do it - or else. I don't actually think in these terms, but that represents the general distinction I make. And it's a spectrum, like heterosexuality - very few people are way to one side of the other, and most of us are willing to at least do our part.
I'm not blaming them, by the way. No one wants to eat shit. But I am saying, that behavior really should change. It's not adult, it's not mature, it's not evolved. It's not enlightened.
I see things like the e-waste, though, and I wonder where I really am on the spectrum. I think I'm doing what I should, but am I? Certainly others are doing a lot more. Am I shirking my duties? My duty to humanity? I mean, I guess I have to say yes, since who among us feel like we're really doing enough in the world? I resolved to do what I can to generate less waste; that's the part of humanity my office move woke up.
There were a lot of other lessons, about fear and confusion and the perennial problem of miscommunication (the non-reading of emails that's rampant in my company these days is staggering), but that's something else, and for later, if at all.
The last one was trans-bay (from SF to Emeryville) but they knew where they were headed, and all they had to do was pack it up, have some company crate it across the bay, and unpack it. This one was more complicated, because we're remodeling our current space, which means moving twice - once out, so they can remodel, and once back in. The temporary space was hard to find, and we had to push a few folks out to the field who were previously mostly office-bound.
I was one of those sent out into the field, except I got to return to the facility I last worked for, which is an 8 minute, rather than a 30 - 45 minute, commute, so that's nice. Also, I know a bunch of people there, and that's nice too. In fact, the only downside is the sort of disruption and, I imagine, slow-down of work that's sure to ensue. But the old office was really a mess - a series of suites my company took over, one by one, from other companies, so that we were not only bursting at the seams (not a free cube) but also literally in different offices. We all used to do a lot of aimless walking around, so awkwardly was it layed out.
So, everyone is actually kind of jazzed for the new space, but as we all know, it's no fun to move. In fact, most people dread it. Personal moving is bad enough, but work moving: ugh. All of the disruption and inconvenience, but none of the sense of new beginnings or personal progress, as you usually have no control over it all. In this case, complicated construction plans resulted in us realizing, more or less suddenly, that our move-out date was much closer than anyone really expected, and the time for leisurely planning of a large process like a giant office move had long since passed.
As usual (and as I mentioned), I ended up overseeing one aspect, communications (along with my partners, who handled construction, logistics, IT and operations), and, informally, morale. People got a little worried, a little freaked out, because this giant operation just appeared out of nowhere, it seemed, and seriously was a pain in the ass, as only moving can be. You have to drag though all your possessions, and decide if you want to keep them or not. Oy vey! How excruciating...making all those decisions. The higher up in the corporate chain I get, the more I realize they are paying you not for all your actions, but for all your decisions. That's tiring.
So, everyone was a bit crusty, and bummed, and we all felt behind. The graffiti on the walls helped - gave people an outlet, or a chuckle. But there was something behind the actual work and decisions and confusion and facing the uncertainty. We were also all depressed at the waste. There was so very much of it. Waste in various forms: confidential papers that must be shredded (and, thank goodness, then recycled), items that are perfectly useful for someone but no longer us (binders, older furniture, food samples galore), and, the worst of it all, e-waste. E-waste is horrible, awful - it's as horrifying a thing as there is.
Now, I work for a company that truly supports the environment and makes purchases based on that belief, but even we ended up with an inordinate amount of crap: plastic, metal and toxic hybrids of materials I can't even guess at but feel certain should never had been combined on Mother Earth. We piled up our e-waste in one area, preparing for the e-waste pickup, and I tell you: it was a room (a regular 10 x 10 room) completely full - in most places, at least knee high, and in too many places, chest high. That's too much e-crap. No one who looked it there knew how to feel, except there was an element of feeling bad along with whatever else.
I don't mean to be a downer, but there are indeed all these things in modern times that are heartbreaking, but yet must be acknowledged. They also need to be dealt with, although luckily not all of us have to deal with everything - if each of us do a little, that would work. This, actually, is one of the world's biggest problems: too many people doing not enough. In order for everyone to do a little, everyone has to do at least some; otherwise, too many do too much, and they get sick of it, tired out, and ultimately are defeated.
I remember seeing a speaker - maybe Jello Biafra, I can't remember - saying it's like this: the problems of the world are this big pile of shit. Every little thing in the world that can be helped, fixed, improved or alleviated by some human effort - which is, essentially, pretty much every problem on earth except for the wild card like a meteor strike - can be done with more ease if everyone, every single person, works at it, just a bit. Each person just has to take one or two bites of shit, and behold, the pile is gone!
But that's not what happens. Some people don't want to eat shit. I mean, who does, but some people refuse to do it, even though it means - and they know it means - everyone else has to eat more shit. "Why should I eat shit?" they say. "Because everyone has to eat shit," the rest of us say. "We've got to deal with this pile of shit." "Well, I'm not going to," they insist, and then the rest of us do indeed then have to deal with it, one way or the other. Either try and force those shit-shirking folks into eating some, or just let them be and do it yourself. Neither works well, and we get either conflict, or burned out. You've seen activists that get burned out? It's because they had to eat too much shit, and finally couldn't take any more. Who can blame them, really?
This is kind of the way I see people, by which I mean, I don't want to judge people, but I do want to make some sort of distinction about who they are and what they do, and you can easily see if a person is the kind who is willing to eat some shit with the rest of us, to get it done and then relax and go have a smoke in the backyard, or if they are the kind who insist they are above it all and the rest of us better do it - or else. I don't actually think in these terms, but that represents the general distinction I make. And it's a spectrum, like heterosexuality - very few people are way to one side of the other, and most of us are willing to at least do our part.
I'm not blaming them, by the way. No one wants to eat shit. But I am saying, that behavior really should change. It's not adult, it's not mature, it's not evolved. It's not enlightened.
I see things like the e-waste, though, and I wonder where I really am on the spectrum. I think I'm doing what I should, but am I? Certainly others are doing a lot more. Am I shirking my duties? My duty to humanity? I mean, I guess I have to say yes, since who among us feel like we're really doing enough in the world? I resolved to do what I can to generate less waste; that's the part of humanity my office move woke up.
There were a lot of other lessons, about fear and confusion and the perennial problem of miscommunication (the non-reading of emails that's rampant in my company these days is staggering), but that's something else, and for later, if at all.
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