how are you, really?

when was the last time someone asked you, "how are you, really?" every day, true to the Aussie culture, we typically say "hey how's it going?" but the question is often fleeting. it's a question asked out of societal politeness rather than genuine curiosity. as a result, the question is frequently answered robotically, "good thanks, how are you doing?" and sometimes, the question might not even be acknowledged.

i've always struggled to answer this question because i never know what the person asking is actually asking. do you mean, how am i in this moment? or do you mean, how have i been? and even then, i wonder, do people want the superficial, positive response? or are they actually seeking the truth? the struggles, fears, and insecurities hiding behind the convenient, surface-level replies?

how many times do we also answer this question with things we've been doing rather than things we've been feeling? "yeah i've been well thanks, just busy catching up on x y z." i think we opt for this response because the truth of our feelings are often perceived as too much for the person asking. you'll see it and hear it in their reaction, "oh...i didn't want to know all that, i was just being polite and trying to start a conversation."

when i was waitressing, i liked to challenge these social norms. if i was having a particularly difficult time, i would honestly tell the guests i was serving. there were times i couldn't hold back tears because i was struggling so much with something in my life. is that unprofessional? possibly. but it's only unprofessional because we've become addicted to superficiality. my response and raw emotion is actually human; admitting my feelings regardless of my environment. we've been conditioned to be 'strong', to put our feelings aside to get the job done. but at what point do we bring our feelings to the forefront? at what point do we discuss the crippling fears and insecurities so many of us are facing right now, but aren't sharing with anyone?

we live in a fast-paced, high-tech world where we run on autopilot. it's also a world where we don't stop to ask people what's really going on in their lives. recent conversations with a few people have highlighted that so many of us are experiencing very similar feelings - feelings of being lost, of not knowing our purpose, of questioning our life and our direction, a feeling of wanting to do more but not knowing how or what to do. this perpetual feeling of directionless can be debilitating, demotivating, and also extremely isolating when we think everyone else has their shit together. but i can almost guarantee that most people are experiencing similar feelings, we will just never know because we never see or hear about it. sharing your fears and insecurities won't magically make them disappear, but it might just connect you to something, people, that can keep you grounded until you do find your way. feeling lost can be both overwhelming and underwhelming simultaneously, but it's a lot easier to manage when you feel lost with someone by your side.

so, when was the last time you asked someone, "how are you, really?"

is your organisation run well?

over the past couple of weeks, i have started a job and quit and i've had a trial shift in which i never contacted the organisation again. so what went wrong?

my recent experiences within the hospitality industry have reinforced that so many organisations are run poorly. despite these businesses apparent success (defined by popularity and earnings), their staff are not happy. so what made me quit a job after only two weeks of working there? a few things.

having worked for a company for 3.5 years and never hearing a slither of gratitude or appreciation from the owner, i am very conscious of working in environments in which i do not feel valued. this place reeked of a similar experience. the job advertised, and the job i trialled for, was for 20-25 hours as a barista. for two weeks i worked 15 hours across four days doing everything but making coffees. red flag number one: lack of integrity and alignment with actions and words. red flag number two: lack of respect for my time.

almost every shift i worked, my shift was cut short. i even rocked up on a saturday where tables needed to be cleared and wiped to be told to sit down for 15mins because they "weren't that busy". this is a place that makes ridiculous money. but they are very conservative with wages. my role, it seemed, was to come in and work tirelessly for two-three hours, and be sent home the minute things died down. i understand hospitality occasionally needs people to work these 'rockstar' shifts, and i've been that rockstar for many years when i first started working, but i'm an experienced, competent worker who doesn't need to 'work my way up' nor prove myself.

the worst part though wasn't necessarily the hours, it was the lack of acknowledgement and thanks. the lack of awareness that this wasn't the agreed upon arrangement. the lack of value. what incentive do i have to slave away for a business who doesn't respect me as a person or employee? the answer is none.

the trial shift at another very successful business had other problems. not only were some of the systems incredibly inefficient, but there was no receptiveness to asking questions. when i queried something, the response was "oh no, we don't do that here." but why not? unlike the other cafe, this place was overstaffed. and the staff looked like they were operating out of fear; they were stiff and tense and conversing with them felt brief and abrupt. it didn't take me long to learn why - they were being micromanaged. because there were so many staff on, they felt they always needed to be doing something. this resulted in them 'hovering' around tables, clearing dishes before individuals finished their last mouthful just to appear busy and productive. the supervisor on duty kept asking me, "have you taken an order from this table?" or "have you bite checked that table?" well no, the fourth person on that table still doesn't have their food. there's a big difference between attention to detail and intrusive service, this place operated on the latter.

the systems and hours are something that can sometimes be overlooked, but only when the connections to your peers are significant. what i found most startling at both these organisations is the lack of interest in me, as a coworker and as a person. in any environment, the first interaction with a new employee or teammate is critical. it sends so many belonging cues to this individual about what the environment is about. is it safe? is it warm? is it welcoming? do i belong here? am i valued? it seems though, that many organisations neglect this opportunity.

so what are some of the most important things to do with a new coworker or teammate? i've written about some of these things in how to make people feel valued, but i'll touch specifically on new individuals in environments.

1. make an effort. new environments are scary. they're overwhelming. individuals are often nervous; they're wanting to make a good impression. take the focus off their novelty by getting to know them. find out where they worked (or what team they've played for). get a gauge for their ability to also assist in the way you communicate with them. nothing is more condescending than being treated like a fool in something that might be your speciality.

2. offer them a uniform. nothing feels more isolating than being the only individual in a black shirt when everyone else is wearing white. if you have a uniform, give them one straight away. or in the interim, ask your staff to loan them one of theirs. looking the part helps make you feel like you belong.

3. say thank you. and say it often. people need to feel like they're valued. they need to feel appreciated. for individuals to enjoy work, which in turn benefits your business, they need to feel like they matter. like they have an incentive to give their best every day. when efforts are overlooked, incentive goes missing and so too will your staff.

4. reinforce behaviour. see something you like? say so! see someone working hard? acknowledge it! humans aren't robots - they need praise. they need to know their efforts aren't going unnoticed. and if you ever want to 'criticise' behaviour, you have to be willing to reinforce it too.

5. check in. i can't emphasise this enough! ask them how they're finding the new environment. see if they have any questions or problems. this communicates that you care about their wellbeing and that you want them to feel safe. it also allows for any confusion with the current arrangement to be rectified.

6. get to know them outside of work. this ties into point one - make an effort. work can sometimes be too busy to have a chat, but that doesn't mean you don't have opportunities to connect. what that does mean is you might have to invest a little time into getting to know them. staying for an extra 30mins to have a chat. extending an invite to an event. people want to feel included - it's not on the individual to invite themselves, it's on the environment to do that.

the last point i have is about addressing conflict - this needs to be done in person. and if, heaven forbid, it is done via message, there needs to be acknowledgement that whatever mistake was made, wasn't intentional. passive aggressive messages are never received well nor do they resolve the issue, so just don't. what these messages also do is catalyse the chasm between employee and employers, creating contempt for the latter. employers are human too, so don't be afraid to acknowledge that.

humans are complex, but our needs are not. it's really not that hard to treat people well. if you work on the aforementioned points, i guarantee your employees will be happier.

hope-less

i’ve been in this uncomfortable mental headspace now for months. and i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t struggling. i’ve written extensively about the cost of me quitting my job earlier this year – i’ve struggled with purpose. with direction. i’ve had so much time to question my life, my future, my value. but as much as i’ve struggled, i’ve still had a few lifelines. i’ve had soccer, which means that i’ve had some structure. i’ve had my partner, which means i’ve had stability. i’ve had my family, which means i’ve had some support. and i’ve had some presentations, which means i’ve had some mental stimulation. but now, the school year is coming to an end – gigs are no longer. soccer has concluded. and a few confronting situations have arisen in other areas of my life. and i find myself struggling to stay afloat.

they say hope is a lifeline, but i think hope is a silent killer. see, i’ve been holding onto hope most of my life. hope that my dreams would be actualised. hope that if i just focused on myself, did my thing - and did it well - that things would fall into place. hope that if i continued to give, my value would be recognised. hope that if i focused on strengthening my relationships, others would want to learn how. hope that if i led by example, it might just be enough to inspire others. but i find myself feeling hopeless – i find myself feeling destroyed by hope.

i sought an agent this year to help me break into w-league. i had nothing to lose. and after arguably my most dominant season yet, this dream has yet to come to fruition. a hope that continues to dwindle each day that passes. i’ve put my life on hold for the past few months – i’ve delayed planning holidays, delayed getting a job, delayed attending events, delayed living in the hope of what if. so where does that leave me now? it leaves me resenting the sport that i love and the politics that go along with it. it leaves me needing to find a job in an industry i’m not sure i’m passionate about anymore. and it leaves me continuing to fight for my value. because status and names get rewarded – without them, you’re swimming upstream trying to fight for it. how can you be as good as you claim, if you can’t actualise your dreams? a dream so many others have. although i acknowledge this is my perception, the situations in my life continue to reinforce these feelings.

it seems stupid to place so much weight on one goal – a goal i know i will never be in control of. but when society rewards those who make it, it’s hard to overlook its potential impact. and it’s even harder not to compare. to compare yourself to others who have made it, to others who have been afforded opportunities, or to others who are treated differently because of who they are rather than what they offer.

bitterness and resentment currently consume me. and i acknowledge the unhealthy nature of these emotions. but i also acknowledge my limitations in being able to overcome these mental battles. my reality is tainted by these struggles. every rejection serves as validation to the question, what’s the point?

lurking beyond these feelings about my own life are realities i refuse to confront. realities i have distracted myself from feeling, realities we all distract ourselves from feeling - the inevitability of death. and the inevitability of death of those dearest to us. recent events have catalysed this mental confrontation, but the emotions have not followed. because death has, and potentially always will be, something i struggle to both grasp and accept. it’s the reason i became vegetarian last year – because i could not accept the thought of killing an animal for me to eat. an animal with a family; with thoughts, and feelings. (this is not my attempt at converting others, more so an explanation for my decision). i find myself not willing to go there – not willing to comprehend the inevitable future of a life without members of my family. and i’m not sure going there really changes anything – i think about movie / tv characters you know are going to die. but i find nothing can prepare you for the eventual passing of their character – it’s still just as heartbreaking as it would have been without that foresight.

so where to from here? i don’t really know. but i do know spending time alone, spending time to feel what i need to feel, to write what i need to write, is a good place to start. i also think that being more hope-less is another place to start. hope-less in the sense of hoping less and accepting more.