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Cindy
Droog
Read Cindy's bio and previous columns
December 11,
2008
Nano-Nano:
Corporate Morks Say Good-Bye to Taking a Stand
When I was in
college, there were two songs that I listened to quite frequently – one
on purpose and one just because it’s a college-years requirement.
The first, which
I listened to by choice on my tape player (yes, you read that right!),
was Suffering, by Satchel. It says, “Come on and take the stand.
And kick him ‘til you think he understands.”
The second,
which made appearances at keg parties, student organization fundraisers
and bars – and was simply unavoidable for all students who didn’t live
in the library – was Bob Marley’s “Get up, stand up.” You know:
“Stand up for your rights! Get up, stand up: don’t give up the fight!”
In fact, they
may have played the elevator version of that one even at the library.
So whether it’s
Bob or Satchel’s fault, I can’t say. Those were formative years, and I
took those words to heart. At one advertising agency job, I wrote a new
business proposal for a client, and when I presented it to the owner, he
simply said, “Triple the budget.”
I argued: “But
this is what it costs.” He said, “I don’t care. Triple the budget. We
need the money.”
I refused. It
was unethical to charge them more. I knew the exact value of the
services we’d be providing. We didn’t get the account, and it didn’t
matter. I told him to never, ever ask me to do that again. And it lit a
fire under me to seek a new job.
That next job
presented its own set of moral dilemmas, and could all be summed up in
two words – hanky panky. (Or, is that technically one word?) Either way,
there were extra-marital affairs between upper management. Directors
preying on young college-aged interns.
I saw it all
during one trade show. At the next one, I asked corporate travel to book
me at the hotel across the street. When one of the offenders asked me
why, I said, “Look, I don’t want any part of your behavior. If I don’t
see it with my own two eyes, I feel less disgusted by it.”
I stayed in a
different hotel, and everyone knew why. And I’d do it again.
Later in my
career, a woman was hired at my firm who was on her best behavior when
the boss was around, but as soon as he wasn’t, fuhgettaboutit! It was
drama, infighting, accusations, rescheduling of important client
presentations to fit personal conflicts (nearly every day!) and general
treating-people-like-total-crap.
I couldn’t take
it. Staff morale was dying. Clients were confused. The time spent
managing the drama could have been spent to accomplish great and amazing
things. I felt confident enough in my track record at that company to
say, “Look. It’s her or me. I’ll give you the weekend to figure it out.”
I honestly
wasn’t afraid. In my heart, I expect people will do the right thing.
They just need a little motivation sometimes. Right?
Wrong. As I get
older, I realize I’m surrounded by Risk Morks, and I may even be turning
into one. Remember Mork from Ork? The character that launched the
brilliant career of Robin Williams? Opposite of us Earthlings, Mork grew
younger and younger as time passed.
For corporate
executives, it seems we grow less and less risky as time passes. Our
youthful spunk? Fading. A desire so strong to speak up that it can’t be
ignored? Six feet under. Just waiting for the dirt to be shoveled on
top.
I’m older now,
and I’m learning – the hard way – that standing up for your people, your
profession, and your passion gets harder. It’s a tough economy. I have
mouths to feed now.
I’m turning into
a Risk Mork. I just hope the egg-shaped spaceship comes back for me –
for all of us – before we become resigned to having the chance-taking
drive of zygotes.
© 2008 North Star Writers
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