Things aren’t fine (and that’s OK)
Obviously, the coronavirus pandemic has been horrendous: over six million deaths worldwide, plus the anxiety, depression, and loneliness that many have suffered. It is fascinating that it took something this vast and appalling to adjust the American approach to work/life balance. I wish that a pandemic hadn’t been necessary for some of the beneficial changes that have come about in the past two years.
For many working people, especially working women, the increased flexibility that COVID has normalized has been transformative. Just last week, after dodging it for two years, everyone in my fully-vaxxed family came down with the virus. When my first daughter popped a fever, I had a flashback to that sinking feeling when sickness comes calling and the tension between work and family becomes crushing. Then I remembered I could work from home and have her camped out on the couch in my office, and we could survive. I realize that’s a luxury not everyone has, and because it’s a luxury I’m not used to having, I truly sympathize. We’ve had generations to struggle acting like everything is FINE at work while also acting like everything is FINE at home . . . and honestly, if there is something good about the pandemic, it’s that we’ve collectively accepted that everything is not fine. Not at all.
Since March of 2020, I’ve seen more of my colleagues’ children, dogs, and interior decor than once would have ever been expected. We’ve muted ourselves (usually, anyway) to yell at our pets, had grimy children popping in and out of frame, and apologized for the sound of workmen in our homes. It’s been odd and messy and ultimately, I would say, freeing, to realize that we’re all in the same boat in one way or another. Most of us are in a tight, uncomfortable space trying to navigate all the roles we play in our lives, and whether you’re a VP or an entry-level person, the experience isn’t effortless for any of us.
Now that we’ve at least somewhat come to terms with our collective humanity and we’re tentatively accepting the fact that nobody moves seamlessly between perfect professionalism and a rosy personal life, I’d say it’s a good idea to take it to the next level. As noted before, things aren’t FINE now. The news is stultifyingly and overwhelmingly bad. Climate change, global conflicts, and the good old pandemic itself can make things seem hopeless. It’s hard, some days, to show up in a Zoom call and paste a smile on your face and act excited about spreadsheet revisions.
I’ve very much appreciated colleagues who have embraced the fact that we’re whole people, and that when we show up to our meetings, whether online or in person, we don’t leave our worries, sadness, and illness at the door. The workplace feels more doable, somehow, when team leaders acknowledge that it’s hard to brainstorm as a group when we just heard that children were once again gunned down at school. It isn’t necessary to make our meetings therapy sessions, or for managers to adopt a camp-counselor approach — just acknowledging that the world is especially challenging right now is a meaningful step. Work is work, and while we can become close with our colleagues, it’s not the same as a family relationship. But we do spend a lot of time together, right? We spend too much time together to pretend that things are just perfect. When we’re all a little more human with one another, we’re closer as a team, the workplace culture leans more toward trust, and we’re ultimately more productive, gentler with one another, and more ready to solve the problems that face us — a little closer to fine.
