Bossy behaviour

This post is for everyone who was, is or will be, in my team at one point in time or another.

Hey you,

I hope things are great with you. I haven't had much time lately to talk to you, or even to ask how you're doing. The workload's killing us all, isn't it? Don't worry, it will pass. Just be grateful that even though it's a lot, it's still what you'd prefer doing over anything else, isn't it?

I am so proud of you. Along with all the others that I hired. I still remember how I fought for you. "I think this person is more suitable to work on the books in my list." "This person is very creative. I think he/she will do a good job with the magazine." Sometimes it was just a simple "I want this person in my team." that did the job. I remember how I described you to people who asked me "So how's the new guy/gal you hired?" I'd say, "He's a happy guy." or "She's very cheerful." Those were aspects of you I remembered most vividly from the interview. And they played a very important part in getting you hired.

I want to teach you everything I know. I want you to understand the 'whys' rather than the 'hows'. I don't want you to come to me with a "Sayesha, do you like this?" or "Sayesha, what do you want for this?" What I like or want is not important. What the readers want or will like in the book is important. I like what they like. I want what they want. So even if you're using my liking as a scale for quality, I want you to know why I like what I like and why I want what I want.

I smile when I see you hard at work. I smile when I see your amateur mark-ups on the manuscripts. It's like looking at the same old stuff that I have been looking at for four years, but through your perspective. I smile when you ask questions because you can't figure something out. I smile when I point something out and you send me an 'Oooops' email. I smile when you pop by my cubicle at 12:30 pm with a "Sayesha, it's lunchtime! Go eat!" I smile when you call me even though I'm sitting a few feet away from you. I smile when I see you secretly checking your personal email account or surfing the net. It's okay, we all do it. If you finish your work and it's well done, you can do what you want with the rest of your time. But of course, I want to give you enough work so you don't have too much free time. Because I remember how restless I used to get when I was new and I did not have enough work to fill my day. I used to go to my surprised senior editor and say, "C, please give me some work." I smile when you come and tell me, "I'm done with this one. Do you have anything you can give me?"

Sometimes I want to take on a bit of your workload. Sometimes I don't want to tell you that there are 63 titles that must be published by March, and that our team strength is not enough to cope with it. I want to hide the ugly from you, I want you to believe, the way I believe, that we can achieve the impossible. Sometimes, I want to stay back because you're doing so even though I cannot give you anything but moral support. Sometimes I feel guilty when I have to rush to university three days a week and I don't have enough time to explain things to you in detail. It is my job to see that you develop, you become darn good at what you do. Especially because that's one of the reasons why they're paying me more than you. And I take my job damn seriously. I don't just want the books to be published. I want your experience of being in my team to include a lot more than that.

I had a boss in this company who had such a deep impact on me that my work ethics will always be influenced by her. And I will never ever forget what I learnt from her. If she could be such a great boss, can't I be? I want to be to you what she was to me. I actually used to think that my career was tagged to hers. I thought I would go wherever she went. And then one fine day, she went. But I did not. And realisation sunk in that our careers had separate paths. Your path too, is separate from mine. We make a great team, yes, but we must be capable of making great teams without each other.

Sometimes I wonder whether your lunchtime conversations are company-bitching sessions. Sometimes I wonder if you're still as happy as you were when you were brand new. Remember those days? You were like this excited kid who wanted to learn everything, who wanted to do everything right, everything perfect. I felt so much grown-up looking at you, even though we're only a few years apart in age. You were so excited, I felt excited looking at your excitement. And I'm glad that you still are excited, though signs of the heavy workload are creeping in.

I want you to not become cynical. I want you to see your work the way you saw it when you first fell in love with it. Always.

Then there was the day they came and took you away. Job rotation, they said. I did not protest. They were right. One has to do different things to develop. Look at me. I'm doing something I have never done before. With a brand new team with zero experience. And I'm facing many many challenges. Perhaps I don't like it as much as what I used to do earlier, I know I will learn to love it. Because I know that at the end of the day, this is where I belong. And sometimes I wonder how happy you are in your new team. Sometimes I even secretly wonder if you miss working with me.

I can tell you are in love with your job. Just as I am. The very fact that we're here in spite of the low salaries that kids' publishing pays, speaks for itself. That's what keeps us going, isn't it? The love for the job. And as long as I am here, I will try my best to ensure you stay in love with it. But if one day, you wake up and you know you don't love it anymore, I want you to leave it. To be fair to the job. To yourself. To me.

I'm still learning to be a good boss. I want to be your friend, but not too close lest you stop taking your deadlines seriously. I want to protect you when other departments turn against ours - sometimes at the cost of becoming the bad guy. Sometimes I wonder if I am adequate. Sometimes I wonder if you think I am adequate. Sometimes I wonder if I inspire you enough. Sometimes I wonder if I'm letting you make full use of your creativity. Sometimes I wonder if I am changing your ideas just because I am the boss. I want to keep your ideas. It's your book after all. I just want to guide you to make your raw ideas feasible. Marketable. Profitable. Because some day I want us to be in a position where I don't have to look through that manuscript because I know that you have.

Even though stuff drives me nuts at work, I always want to talk of work in a positive manner so I don't affect you. We face a lot of challenges in a very stressful environment and a very competitive market. And I don't want you to be negatively affected by it. I want to highlight certain things as issues, not problems. I want to be positive. I want to be the person whom you look at and say, "That's how I gotta be."

Some day if I become jaded and cynical, I want to be able to look at you and say, "That's how I gotta be."