I never set out to be a middle manager. Like most people, I imagine how and where I started my career is not something I can really explain this far down the path. Of course, I can trace my employment history back through my resume and LinkedIn, but how all the pieces fit together and why I made certain decisions to stay or leave certain employers doesn’t even seem to make much sense to me now. I can tell a compelling story for sure, but like most stories, where the truth lies is in the eye of the reader.
I do enjoy my middle management job. Or at least parts of it. And I happen to be pretty good at it as well. I love helping people be successful. I love being the lynchpin for solving complex problems by empowering people. I love making employees and customers happy. If making people happy was all I had to do, I’d have one of the greatest jobs in the world.
Alas, there’s a lot more to it than that. And of course, everyone has to shovel shit sometimes, as my dad used to tell me. Fair enough. What I don’t subscribe to, however, is the tension between having limited control over my circumstances yet full responsibility for the outcomes. The biggest piece of fiction I ever heard was “people don’t quit their company; they quit their manager.” Utter and total bullshit. I certainly accept that there are terrible managers in the world that are all but impossible to work for, but to make a blanket statement like that is a dereliction of reality bordering on the irresponsible. I, for one, have never quit because of a manager. Even ones that I didn’t particularly like or respect. But that’s just me. What do I know? I’m only a middle manager.