Three Months Of ... Now What?

Three months ago, I was cast out like the trash.

Actually, that’s not fair. Trash is usually separated for recyclables. I wasn’t even told where to send my recyclables.

Call it a layoff if that makes you feel better, but the fact remains that I was perceived to be of insufficient value (I’ll avoid the term “valueless” for a few reasons) and no longer needed. No matter how it’s phrased, for the level of effort and caring that I put into the work, it’s very hard to be told I’m of no more value.

It’s like being dumped, just with the added bonus of a financial void.

The last three months have been … not a rediscovery of one’s self – I’m too old for that – more of a “now what”. Because…

I’m not a Vice President. Despite the title I had, I never operated like that. Because agencies are notorious for throwing around titles like beads in a Mardi Gras parade, I got saddled with the burden (high billing rate, mostly) without the actual responsibilities. That’s not a Vice President, it’s an over-titled Manager. (I actually had far more financial accountability when I was a manager with the University of Calgary and with Travel Alberta.) Could I be a Vice President? At a smaller organization, sure – I know what those processes are, I’ve worked closely with executive and C-Suites to work on strategies and long-term plans.

I’m not a developer/software engineer, either. Not a real one, anyway. Those days are well behind me. While I can still code, I rely much more heavily on assistance than I do on whatever’s still lurking in the recesses of this dried lump of a brain. The amount of knowledge needed to delve deep into those mines is more than I care to bear, anymore. That’s a unique and special level of attention that … well, isn’t me, hasn’t been me for a long time. I’ve accepted that.

I’m not a CTO. And I don’t want to be. A few years ago, sure, that could have been fun, but lately all I see, over and over, are CTOs being parrots for (or worse, puppets of) Chief Product Officers who refuse to listen to reason. Full AI transformational change in less than a fortnight? Sure, no problem… The smart CTOs have all left town, leaving it to be populated by people rammed into the position without the care or will to understand.

I’m not a Systems Architect. I’m a jack of all trades, I know a little about a lot of things. But the depth of knowledge needed to spec a full solution, endpoints, technical platform, systems dependencies, etc., and on and on? Fudge it out, sure, but not with any confidence. Nor do I have the misaligned ethics to suggest I could.

I’m not a Project Manager. Sure, I’ve worked with a lot of Project Managers over the years and I have years of practice of ensuring things stay on target with a minimum amount of overhead, but I ain’t got no PMI certifications. I’ve seen quite a few job postings that looked really interesting that require a PMP (or some PMI education), but like so many web developers like me, I’ve nothing on paper to show you my skill.

I’m not an IT Director, though I have filled that role a couple of times, and worked in larger IT organizations. Even the title “IT Director” is horrifically misleading, because IT has so many subdivisions, you have to be a specialization within IT, which is … well, often what else appears in this list.

I’m not a Data Director, and hoo boy do I see a lot of these postings. I know Data people, they have a wonderfully wired brain for organizing raw data and producing output. I can follow that, sure, but my brain is far too cross-wired to do this effectively. Data is one of the fields where I’ll go only so far before putting my hands up and declaring we need someone else to show us the way.

I’m not a CRM Specialist, though I’ve certainly spent a lot of time dealing with them. I wish I had more positive Salesforce experience (the majority of mine has been integrating with Salesforce and SFMC, which are entirely different beasts) and while I’ve done more than my fair share in Hubspot, I’m by no means an expert. I know what CRMs are and why they’re needed and how well they can support organizational needs … and that a well-implemented one requires time, planning, and someone who legitimately knows how to do it.

I’m not an accountant but I know how to balance a budget and forecast. Some of that stems from the Project Management experience, but there’s also the reality of income, taxes, expenses (and the management thereof), as I have had to run my own business. Given, I use an actual accountant because one does not simply walk into Quickbooks and expect miracles.

I am not a visionary. Goodness, no. If you’ve spent any time rolling around in the technology, internet, science, or business topics, you won’t find anything in there that’s visionary. Predictive, maybe, but prediction is part wisdom, part pessimism, and part luck. To be visionary means to unshackle yourself from the bounds of the present and look to things we don’t have, and make them a reality. I leave that sort of thing to my writing.

I don’t have Financial experience. I can run my own finances, but to step into the financial industry (notably banking and e-finance) requires a foot in the door or the willingness to work at one of the grinding up-and-comers to gain the experience. The skills I already have, and the rest of the knowledge is acquirable. But Finance is an exclusionary industry – you’re either in or you’re out, and getting through that barrier is not easy. I’ve worked for banks multiple times in marketing roles, but that’s not much different than going to the teller; to get behind the cages has eluded me.

While I do have telecom experience, Telus couldn’t give a flying fig, apparently. Multiple positions, not so much as a “thanks for coming out”. And to a point, I’m okay with that. Having worked telecom, I’ve realized it’s not for me. It’s a careful industry – sweeping changes tend to cause problems, which means lost customers. And with high operating costs and low margins, things are done with a level of care approaching spaceflight.

I don’t have spaceflight experience. But, man, that would be cool.

Alex, as you know, works in healthcare. And while I’ve had a long desire to go in there and straighten things out from a management perspective (read: healthcare is expensive to operate not because of nurses or doctors or x-ray techs, it’s because of overstacked, inefficient management), the only way that’ll happen is with some knighthood-like empowerment and a team of like-minded people to analyze and straighten things out. Yes, it could be done. No, no-one has the cohones to try, and the government is inept. (Well, at least in Alberta.)

I don’t have an MBA. I thought about it, years ago, but I was waved off by my “performance manager” (a person who already didn’t like me). Now? Why? What value would that serve me? Other than the three letters, I’ve seen very little out of MBA grads that tells me they know more about operating business than me. And, frankly, I ain’t got the spare $50,000 to consider it, anyway. I’d rather go to Australia.

I don’t live in Vancouver or Toronto. This is a tough one to get away from. I’ve lived and worked in both cities. I know a lot of people in both cities. I visit both cities. I’ve worked (remotely) with people in those cities over the last five years. I’ve managed people (remotely) in Toronto, and as far away as Halifax. But not being physically present in those cities is an immediate block, apparently. It also doesn’t help that the market is over-saturated with people with my skill sets.

I’m old. This one stings, but I have to address it. I’m 54. I ain’t no spring chicken, on paper. But I’m also a fan of: never act your age. (I’ll be one of these old farts with pink hair and flames on their mobility scooter. Given, I’ll need a wig, but I’m there, dammit!) Age, experience – you know how that equation goes. Does age equate with high positions? It can, but it doesn’t need to – and I don’t. I want to work with good people doing good things. Pay me enough to pay my bills, give me enough PTO that I can relax (remember, I’m old [eyeroll]), and understand that I’m there to make a difference, not (just) collect a paycheque.

I am a people manager. I care about what people do, where they want to go, what skills they have to acquire. I actually give a shit when someone calls in and says they’re sick. Need a day off because your kid can’t go to daycare? Fine, no worries. You want training to learn how to create AI models that’ll transform our business? I’ll find a way to make that happen. Start getting uppity and looking down on others? Yeah, we’ll be talking, ‘cuz that shit don’t fly with me. Decide it’s time to move on? I’ll be the first to congratulate you and I will continue to watch at a distance to see how you’re doing.

Now, take all of these things, throw them in a pot. Give it a couple decades to stew, often without a chef periodically looking in the to make sure it’s not gone rancid. Add in a few ugly shirts, and you’ll probably be looking at me. I’m not a rare breed – there are others like me – but I’m definitely an unusual flavour. And if it’s not agreeable to your palate, fine, I’m okay with that. I yam wot I yam.

But I ain’t trash. I am valuable. And I might be worth even just a conversation to find out what I can do for you.