Reciprocity

On Sunday, I could hear the laughing of children swimming in the cold sea from my new garden, the sun beating warmly on us as we dug in the sandy soil. Today, the sea is steely grey and the winter coats are back out. My feet are hugging the heater on this train, and my hands—which just emerged from their possum and merino gloves—are stiff with cold. I think this micro pattern of weather is part of the macro pattern of the weather here—which is part of the macro pattern of life. The weather comes and goes, delight comes and goes, sadness comes and goes.

Today I’m puzzling about the question R, my boss (and friend), asked on the way out of the door yesterday at work. There are a series of “performance review documents” that get filled out and signed and form the basis of a kind of contract for the next year. I’ve talked with lots of executives about documents like this and about how to put them together, but here I am going through the process myself. R and I had decided what to put in it—a list of the work I was doing or was likely to do over the next year. And she typed it all up and got it ready for us both to sign. And as I bent over to sign the document, she picked it up and flipped through it again. “No, it’s not ready,” she told me. “There isn’t enough in here about what we can do for you—it’s all about what you can do for us. This is a two-way street, you know.” So I’ve been given the homework to go out and figure out what they can do for me.

This turns out to be an entirely new question for me. What can my place of employment do for me? It’s not that I’m so totally selfless; I’ve only ever kept jobs that are rewarding and interesting, that feed me in all kinds of important ways: intellectually, personally, relationally. I like to laugh at work, like to think hard, like to interact with people who are interesting. And the work I do, if I’m going to continue doing it, is always filled with learning and interest for me. Otherwise it’s just a paycheck. But I haven’t given much thought to the shared responsibility that the job might have for my well-being. At NZCER, shared responsibility is really important. We have unlimited sick days, for example, because as a collective, that’s what really matters. You don’t get sick in the 10-a-year doses that most jobs offer: you get sick and then you’re sick. People with catastrophic illness need way more than 10 days; others who are quite healthy often need far less than 10 days. Unlimited sick leave means that people get what they need, and as long as no one abuses the system, it works out for everyone. Why make the collective pay for the abuses of the 1% of people who are likely to abuse things? In a system like this one, that 1% is dealt with as aberrant and the rules are made for the other 99%.

Michael and I were talking over dinner about why on earth the question: “what can we do for you here?” would be so strange and unexpected—much like unlimited sick leave. Why don’t we ask that question at work more often? What would it do for us if we did? There was a piece in the London Times about the connection between love and learning (to read it click here)—wouldn’t there be a connection between love and working, too? If there is such a connection (and surely there is), than my love for NZCER grew today as I pondered a job where they wanted it to be a two-way street.

Ok, so that’s me. And here at the end of the day, after having that conversation with R, I’m feeling content about my job. And, after a date with Michael at a restaurant in town, I’m feeling content about the food choice options here, too. Rob, when he lived here, gave me a gift certificate to this place for my birthday, and tonight we ate there. Perhaps there will be more about that tomorrow. If not, you’ll just know that I had the most magical crepes for dessert—with a caramel Grand Marnier sauce that made me moan out loud—if love is connected with learning, I learnt a whole lot tonight about something or another. Thanks, Rob.

ps for those of you keeping track, the plans from the architect--complete with the Keith room upstairs--came back yesterday and they're GREAT! YEA!