Saturday May 10, 2008 
Saturday May 10, 2008 In the midst of stories dissing my company because of our weak Q3 and subsequent drop - ok, plunge - in stock price, my day was brightened this morning when I opened up my morning paper, the Los Angeles Times. There, on the front page, was this headline: A Second Life for Corporate America.
I'm an internal communicator, and my job is typically behind the scenes, not making headlines. So the fact that our recent Global Employee Connections meeting in Second Life was prominently featured in the story has just made me grin, ear-to-ear.
Here's a quote from the story:
"Sun Microsystems,
which makes computer servers and software, owns seven islands in Second
Life, two of which are open to the public. The rest are used for
training sessions and meetings. During its biggest event, a 12-hour
corporate meeting held last month, 14 of Santa Clara, Calif.-based
Sun's top executives hobnobbed with hundreds of employees. Alpine
skiing, car racing, live jazz and a sandbox were also part of the
event....
....Hundreds of Sun avatars lounged in the audience, some wearing sneakers and jeans, others in business attire, asking questions about new products, Second Life and Sun's competitive position. Thousands of other employees watched the virtual meeting on monitors in Sun's offices in Santa Clara, New York and Tokyo."
....Hundreds of Sun avatars lounged in the audience, some wearing sneakers and jeans, others in business attire, asking questions about new products, Second Life and Sun's competitive position. Thousands of other employees watched the virtual meeting on monitors in Sun's offices in Santa Clara, New York and Tokyo."
How did employees react to our global meeting in Second Life? I'd say the reaction was pretty split, with some people loving it and other not so crazy about it. But while not everyone loved the experience, you've gotta love good publicity!
OK, I'm going to get this big grin off my face any minute now....
Posted by terrymckenzie ( May 10 2008, 11:42:21 AM PDT ) Permalink Comments [0]
Monday May 05, 2008 So You Wanna Have a Second Life Party....
The party is over. The streamers have been picked up, the avatars have gone home. And I think we've answered the question that my chairman, Scott McNealy, raised at his Second Life training - as he made his avatar jump really high and laughed with his trainers - "This is really fun. But what's its business purpose?"
Two purposes in my mind: the first was to encourage our folks - including our executives, btw - to try a new technology. The second was to give employees around the world the opportunity to hear a series of our leaders talk about the company, regardless of location.
Here are some facts:
Average number of attendees in the central arena for presentations: 185
Number of webstream viewings: 1751
Number of new avatars added: over 600
Number of training sessions held: too many to count
Number of presenting executives: 14
Size of presentation hall: largest in Second Life. Built over four islands to allow lots of employees to attend the Town Halls
Number of "skiers" on the SL Alpine Run: don't know...we're still picking up virtual broken skis and poles! Fortunately, avies bounce better than humans so no injuries
Number of dancing fools in Club Java: sooooo many! Alas, we only captured a handful on film:
 Club Java dancers: 6 (and they're still dancing since last week!) |
While the cost of Second Life is virtually (no pun intended!) free, the preparation for the event clearly was not. We invested hundreds of hours of time in getting ready. We had to do the training, help folks develop their avatars, create the virtual arena and playgrounds, work out the technical issues.
The payoff, though, made it all worthwhile. As I said to one of our execs after he finished presenting, "You just reached 600 employees in 30 minutes. Not a bad ROI for your time!"
 My avatar walking on stage. |
 Jonathan, Chris and Don ready to go. |
Mike Dillon, our chief legal counsel, commented that in a way it felt like a giant conference call but with visuals. A fair comment, I think. We have a lot to learn about how to best use the technology, which continues to evolve rapidly. For example, presenters who were already very comfortable with Second Life, such as Rich Green and Jonathan Schwartz, were able to not only present to the crowd but instant message individuals in-between comments. This moved their presentations from a speech with Q&A at the end to a much more personal encounter. Interesting....
So there were no train wrecks. The system did not crash. People brought their sense of adventure and sense of humor, which helped make the day fun and participative. We did have issues on people being able to hear the comments, but I think we addressed most of those on the fly. There was that naked and bald issue, of course, where slow resolution of your avatar caused your body to be seen before your clothing, and hair was disturbingly slow to appear. Fortunately, in Second Life, you have the body you choose and your most naked self appears to be covered with gray ace bandages, top to bottom.
Would I do it again? Oh yes, I would. Although I'm thinking now about more targeted audiences for a specific executive to go after - a Second Life session held with engineers, for example, where they could talk with our Technical Management Team.
Did you go? Did you try to go? Would you want to go? Let me know so we can do better next time!
Posted by terrymckenzie ( May 05 2008, 01:02:17 PM PDT ) Permalink Comments [1]
Thursday May 01, 2008 Springtime, that old hag of good and bad news, has struck again. Tuesday we had a fantastic day in Second Life, with thousands of employees joining in the virtual fun. And today, Thursday, we had our earnings announcement, which was the antithesis of a good time.
The story, in brief, is that the U.S. economic blues have done a number on our top and bottom lines, and after seven quarters of really terrific momentum, we hit a speed bump. Which means that some jobs will be impacted.
Now the news was not all bad - we had outstanding performances around the world, great gains in the sales of some products, and a strong push forward in our open technology strategy. But if you're a communicator and you're trying to tell a balanced story, there's always this fear in the back of your mind that you might come off like David Brent in the BBC comedy, The Office, and his memorable performance where he tells his team that they've been made redundant but he's been promoted:
"There’s good news and bad news. The bad news is Neil will be taking over both branches and some of you will lose your jobs…
On a more positive note the good news is I’ve been promoted - so every cloud… you’re still thinking about the bad news aren’t you?"
He goes on to express bewilderment at why people are sobbing because after all, isn't a promotion good news?
So what I don't want to do is express bewilderment at why employees are upset at our results because after all, aren't great gains in products sales good news?
Turnarounds are a tough business. Two steps forward, one step back. One day you're a hero, the next day a goat. Our turnaround has been built on tough decisions on where to invest and where to disinvest, on a strategy that in the short-term is controversial but in the long-term is the key to our future. And like any war, there are losses on the battlefield. It's too early to say who will be impacted by the cost-cutting, but it's not too soon to say that there will be pain in the process.
I take my hat off to our CEO, Jonathan Schwartz, who chose to tell our employees, via an impromptu video, what happened this quarter, why and how we'll move forward. If you watch it, you'll see neither defensiveness nor arrogance - just a leader talking quietly and authentically to his extended team of 32,000 employees around the world. And I'm confident that the rest of his team will follow his lead in this kind of open conversation with employees. No anger. No blaming. Quiet acceptance of responsibility and strong resolve to make the changes we need to make to succeed.
It's the kind of communication and maturity that gives me hope and keeps me going. Because we're in this together - win, lose or draw.
Posted by terrymckenzie ( May 01 2008, 01:16:17 PM PDT ) Permalink Comments [2]
Wednesday April 30, 2008 It's a Mad, Mad, Mad Second Life
And it takes a great, great, great team to make it happen! I was blown away by the dedication of all the people who worked to make this day a success - Debra, Christy, Jessica, Fiona, KJ, Wincy, Chris and others worked behind the scenes training newbies on Second Life, creating the beautiful setting and helping style avatars so we looked as fabulous as we could ever hope to be. And reassuring me that we were not about to commit career suicide.
And then there were all the business group communicators on my team, who contacted executives, helped them prepare and convinced them to come to the party (not that much convincing was necessary - my favorite response was from Jonathan, who in response to my email asking if he'd be willing to join the experiment was, "absolutely.")
There's so much to share, photos to post and tales to tell. But I still have earnings to get through this week and so duty calls. I promise to tell all (well, most of all, anyway) next week. Meanwhile, let me entice you back with these words:
Naked happens.
Posted by terrymckenzie ( Apr 30 2008, 08:41:24 AM PDT ) Permalink Comments [1]
Monday April 21, 2008 We were married during the worst fashion days in history - the 70s. Our children howl when they see the pictures of their father in his light blue tuxedo with the ruffled shirt (yes, it's true). And his long curly hair and major beard. Fortunately for me, I chose a classic white gown, thereby minimizing my ability to commit fashion faux pas.
Still, I seem to have planned my wedding day with the same careless lack of detail that I used to choose a college: "Oh, I don't know. Let's just do.... whatever." So when I look at the elaborate ceremonies that others have, I realize I probably missed the boat a bit. But it wasn't about the wedding for me - it was about living my life with Scott.
All I really wanted was a very personal, small ceremony, which we had in my parents' home. We wrote our own vows, as was the fashion of the day. And when I look back at what we wrote, I'm still touched. We chose the words carefully and they ring as true today as they did 34 years ago. Even the Jefferson Airplane lyrics, "Life is change, how it differs from the rocks..." OK, snort if you will (please remember we were victims of the era!), but when I look at all we've gone through and continue to go through, those words still work for us.
A family friend was a judge, and he married us. He read this passage from The Velveteen Rabbit:
Weeks passed, and the little Rabbit grew very old and shabby, but the Boy loved him just as much. He loved him so hard that he loved all his whiskers off, and the pink lining to his ears turned grey, and his brown spots faded. He even began to lose his shape, and he scarcely looked like a rabbit any more, except to the Boy. To him he was always beautiful, and that was all that the little Rabbit cared about. He didn't mind how he looked to other people, because the nursery magic had made him Real, and when you are Real shabbiness doesn't matter.
When I look at Scott, I see the man who grew up beside me in this marriage. Who put up with my flightiness, my ambition. Who had two children with me and was - and is - a wonderful father to them. Who is kinder to my family than I am. Who defends me, honors me. Who drinks wine with me in the hot tub on Sunday afternoons, relaxing, laughing and doing the crossword together. And who shares my same bizarre sense of humor (Scott's favorite line on our anniversary, which my boss Bill MacGowan has now picked up, is, "We've been married XX years. Feels like 10 minutes.... underwater!").
Two children, one son-in-law, two cities, six houses, 10 cars, two pick-ups, seven dogs, three cats, three rats, and 34 years later, we find ourselves in this place. Still together. And still darn glad of it.
Posted by terrymckenzie ( Apr 21 2008, 08:30:00 AM PDT ) Permalink Comments [2]
Monday April 14, 2008 Springtime is, for the most part, a time of joy for me. We were married on April 21, 1974. Our daughter was born on April 26, 1982. Our son was born on May 11, 1984. Our daughter and our son-in-law were married on April 8, 2006. But it is a time of mixed blessings, because on April 19, 2004, my father died. His funeral was on our 30th wedding anniversary.
My mom is still in deep mourning for the man she spent 54 years with. She says she sometimes lies awake and night and curses him, asking how he could leave her alone.
While there will always be a hole in my heart where my dad lived, I find that four years has been time enough for me to heal. I used to wonder if I would ever think of my dad again without thinking of him during those last terrible months, lying skeletal, gray and sweaty in the nursing home, asking if he could come home with us that evening. Still a heartbreaking memory. But increasingly, when I think or dream of him, I remember the father with a great laugh and love for bad jokes, many eccentricities, and those beautiful pale green eyes.
My dad's health problems started in earnest around 14 years ago. We were planning on meeting my parents in Athens for a fantastic two-week vacation. We had decided that at 9 and 11, our kids were old enough to enjoy the experience, so it was to be the six of us. We got to Athens a day before my folks, and used the time to get over jet lag and do a little exploration on our own. When my parents arrived at the hotel, we immediately went to their room to exchange greetings. After hugs and kisses, they went to unpack and we returned to our room. I looked at Scott and asked, "Uh, did you notice anything strange about my father? Like his mouth drooping on the left side?" Scott sighed, and said that my mom had pulled him aside to tell him that my dad had a small stroke three days before they were to leave. And that they came despite the violent objections of his doctor.
You've heard the statement, "damned if you do, damned if you don't." This may have been the defining moment for that phrase. As my mom explained when I went to talk with her, had they stayed home, we would have been worried sick about them and the vacation would have been ruined. If they came, we would immediately see what had happened and the vacation would likely be ruined. My dad had been absolutely adament - he wanted to come and spend this time with us. And so they flew, my mom frightened about a second stroke at 36,000 feet over the Atlantic.
It turned out to be the vacation from hell. My father was not well, my mother was frantic, we were stressed out and tense, and our children were just plain monstrous. Don't believe me? The second night in the hotel, the children got into a screaming match in their room. When we came into referee, our son had a fit and went off to the bathroom to sulk. We went back to bed until there was a knock on the door connecting our rooms - it was Carolyn telling us that Andrew had disappeared - run away into the Athens night. That was a moment to remember...our 9-year old in his pajamas running around a strange city at 2 am.
Well, we found him. But it was the start of two weeks of tantrums, screaming matches and aggravation. The first day of our tour, after visiting the Acropolis, our daughter announced that if she ever had to see another pile of old rocks, it would be too soon. The four adults exchanged stricken looks, as that was ALL we were going to be doing for the remainder of our time together.
My insight apparently doesn't operate well under stressful circumstances. I was furious with our children, swearing up and down that we would never ever ever again take them on a vacation that required a passport. It only occurred to me some years later that they were reacting to the stress. They had no idea what was going on but they did know that something was very wrong.
While we, as a family, recovered from the experience, my dad was really never the same afterward. While all outward signs of the stroke disappeared, something had changed on the inside. He started to withdraw into himself, and getting him to laugh and joke became much harder. In October of 2003, he suffered a major stroke that took six months to kill him. It would have been far kinder to have killed him immediately.
OK. Maybe four years isn't quite enough to heal.
I love you, Dad. You're still living deeply in my heart. Here's to you...
Posted by terrymckenzie ( Apr 14 2008, 08:00:00 AM PDT ) Permalink Comments [1]
Tuesday April 08, 2008 What if you gave a party and nobody came? Except your executives, to whom you've promised a fabulous event?
What if you gave a party and EVERYONE came? But the caterer didn't show up, there was no place to park, the directions to the house were wrong, and no one knew what to wear.
I'm having heart palpitations just thinking about this. On April 29th, we're having our first global employee open house in Second Life - and I admit that I'm more than just a little terrified.
Since MySQL joined Sun and introduced us to a whole new level of the flexible workforce (most of their 400 employees work from home, widely scattered around the world - they keep track of where people are by which airport they're closest to - and they have a list of 110 airports in use today!), we've been challenged to find ways to springboard off what they've accomplished to include 33,000 other Sun employees. Not an easy task.
At the same time, we were trying to figure out how to welcome our new employees from not only MySQL but innotek and Vaau, and introduce them to some of their colleagues. Suddenly, Second Life seemed like an interesting approach.
To the shock (and slight embarrassment, I think) of my children, I have an avatar. I like her a lot. She never has a bad hair day, her wardrobe is fabulous, her feet don't ache from wearing killer heels, and she can eat whatever she wants without gaining an ounce.
She, like me, does, however, have a few problems with balance. Despite hours (well, OK, minutes is probably more accurate - I get impatient quickly) of practice, my avatar walks into walls. A lot. Bumps into others. A lot. Walks off cliffs and finds herself in the "ocean." A lot. Flies about as well as a kite with a broken tail and lands with the thudding grace of an albatross. (I'm told that I'm pretty typical of a "noob" - newbie.) But she never blushes. She doesn't bruise. And she manages to laugh it off. And together we have a GREAT time inworld.
Yet this April 29 12-hour party (6 am to 6 pm Pacific) feels risky. I suspect many of us will be walking into walls and bumping into each other. But we'll also have an opportunity to meet and chat with some very interesting people online, including Rich Green, head of our Software Group, John Fowler, head of our Systems Group, and, oh yes, Jonathan Schwartz, a name you may recognize. Participants will hear interesting perspectives from a variety of Sun leaders, have some photo ops,listen to great music and get to know each other.
Why am I scared, then? Because for everything that can go right, 10 things can go wrong. From technology glitches to no-shows to who-knows-what-else. But if it works, it will be glorious! And a ton of fun. And will introduce lots of folks to a different way to collaborate and communicate. If it doesn't? Well, anyone out there looking for a new head of employee communications and communities??
If you're a Sun employee, you are SO invited(watch for your email invitation from Bill MacGowan). If you're not, well, don't you wish you were?? If for no other reason than to see me walk into yet another wall!
Posted by terrymckenzie ( Apr 08 2008, 08:00:00 AM PDT ) Permalink Comments [1]
Tuesday April 01, 2008 If you're French, you celebrate Bastille Day. If you're Hawaiian, King Kamehameha Day is big on your calendar. And the Chinese celebrate June 1, Children's Day. But if you work for Sun, you celebrate today - April Fool's Day.
I don't know why, but it's part of our DNA here. In good times. In bad times. We just can't resist pranking executives and laughing at ourselves.
Pranks are viral, not part of anyone's job description. So for those of you keeping an eagle eye on our bottom line, no worries. We don't have an April Fool's czar, and we don't set aside wads of money to fund gags. The one rule is that pranks must be funny - at least to a good portion of our audience. So if you walk by my office in, say, March, you may hear snorts of laughter wafting through the walls, in the most unprofessional manner you can imagine. That's called, uh, let's see, aha - test marketing! Yeah, that's it. If it makes us cry with laughter and our stomachs hurt, we're well on our way.
Many a prank has graced our company in the past...
Giant arrows piercing Scott McNealy's office.
Bill Joy's car in the pond.
The entire management team in unusual haircuts.
Then there are the pranks that never quite made it to prime time. Such as two years ago when we thought it would be fun to celebrate our new Niagara chip by recreating a miniature Niagara Falls upstairs in the executive offices. Only to be told by engineering that the weight of the water might actually collapse the second floor...Talk about putting a damper on a prank!
So this year we did something that didn't threaten the structure of the building but did perhaps put our jobs a bit at risk. It all started with a venture capitalist and lunch with Jonathan.
Enjoy!
Posted by terrymckenzie ( Apr 01 2008, 11:15:00 AM PDT ) Permalink Comments [0]
Thursday March 27, 2008 I've been reading the comments on my recent post, Rejected! Great Places to Work, with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. As a community, we have a lot to say on this subject, and whether you're a huge Sun supporter or just hugely disappointed with the company, great passion lay behind your words. I don't think you can have that passion unless you really do, at heart, care about this place. And want to see us do better.
Which is what I love about this company. There are 33,000 of us with opinions and we're not afraid to voice them. There's still an element of that theme song from Malcolm in the Middle that runs through the core of Sun: You're Not the Boss of Me. Gotta love that. (Although I realize that it makes us, uhm, a challenge to manage...)
I've never been interested in working for a sheep ranch or a lemming farm. I want to work with smart people who care passionately about their work, and who have the courage to stand up for their beliefs.
Making Sun a different and better place is messy, frustrating, hard work. Opinions clash and new ideas result. It's not always fun, but it's always interesting.
Did we deserve to win a spot on the U.S. Great Places to Work list this year? Objectively, no. Four hundred employees told us why. So Sun needs to listen - to the good and the bad - fix what can be fixed, and keep moving forward. But please, let's not become one of those cookie-cutter companies where everyone recites the company line. Ugh, ugh, ugh. Let's keep talking - and let the fur fly! Viva Sun!
Posted by terrymckenzie ( Mar 27 2008, 10:27:56 AM PDT ) Permalink Comments [1]
Monday March 24, 2008 I've been in amazingly good spirits lately. Yeah, the stock is down. Yeah, my weight is up. Nothing has really changed at home or at work. But I've got the bounce back in my step.
Thinking about it (yes, we Midwest girls are never content to take anything at face value - and you thought that was a trait owned by those brooding East Coast intellectual types!), I realized that I feel good. Physically good. For the first time in 18 months. My vision is back, and I can't begin to tell you how huge that is. I can read books again, I can do needlepoint again without holding the canvas two inches from my eyes. I can sit in a meeting and see what's up on the screen as well as read what's on the handout. When I went to the DMV last week to replace a lost driver's license, I glanced at the eye chart - and I could read it from further back than required! This is the same eye chart that terrified me a couple years ago when I had a problem reading it, and first realized that something was up (or rather, down) with my vision.
And I'm recovering from the series of falls I had over the past six months, as my vision went from sketchy to scary. I can cough again! Yep. You think that's not suchamuch? If you've broken ribs or cracked your sternum, you know of what I speak.
So the old McKenzie body has bounced back, and with it, the spirit.
This seems like an appropriate blog to write during this time of the spring equinox, when in Los Angeles we're experiencing the first, tantalizing warm promise of summer, and the air is filled with the perfume of orange blossoms and night-blooming jasmine. Breathing in the sweet air, all things seem possible.
Posted by terrymckenzie ( Mar 24 2008, 08:30:00 AM PDT ) Permalink Comments [1]
Monday March 17, 2008 Why? Because I can never find a damn thing. Keys? No idea. Reading glasses? Beats me. Watch? I dunno.
This frustrates the hell out of my husband who has a simple belief - shared by most left-brained people - that if you simply always put your things away, then you'll always know where they are.
I think that's a nice idea and I do try. For example, when I come in the house from the garage, I try to always put my purse and keys on the wash machine. Unless my big, oh-so-thrilled-to-see-you-that-I-have-a-squeaky-toy-in-my-mouth -that-you-must-throw-right-now dog greets me, bushy tail wagging furiously with joy. I bend to greet her and play a little tug-of-war and oops...the keys don't land on the wash machine. God help me.
Warning: name dropping ahead.
A couple years ago I was in a succession planning meeting with Jonathan Schwartz, Bill MacGowan, Rich Lang, and a few other very smart, very analytical people. And this subject came up. Everyone around the table was talking about how they just don't understand why some people can never keep track of stuff. Why, all you have to do is "simply always put your things away." One of us - OK, it was me - was strangely quiet during this session. I knew then that my ambitions for top management were limited. After all, I rarely put my things away, and I'm always the one frantically looking for them.
So imagine my joy when I was reading the paper this morning and I saw this article: Now Where Did I Leave my ... ? The glasses that can find anything. Yes, technology may just come to my rescue here. A team of Japanese scientists seem to have come up with the answer for the chronically disorganized. It's a pair of glasses that have a camera and enough artificial intelligence built in so you can say, "Where the HELL are my keys?" and the camera will show you a brief video of the last time you saw them.
I think this is an invention that could save marriages. Honestly.
A few downsides, of course. First, I just had cataract surgery that pretty much eliminated my need for glasses. The thought of going back (and fashion frames these ain't) is not that appealing. Second, what would Scott and I talk about every morning when I was leaving the house? We've come to depend on the "where are my keys" topic (answer: "Gee, Terry. I don't know. Where did you last have them?"). We might get into a political discussion and find out where we're cheering for different candidates, heaven forbid. But the biggest downside, and the article does point this out, is this invention fails to solve the final problem:
"Where the HELL are my glasses???"
Posted by terrymckenzie ( Mar 17 2008, 08:00:00 AM PDT ) Permalink Comments [3]
Tuesday March 11, 2008 I was not an attractive child. It wasn't just those awkward years – I remember my entire childhood as awkward. Let's paint a picture, shall we? In my blue collar suburb of Cleveland, Ohio, filled with beautiful blond silky-haired girls (or so it seemed to me), I was a very curly-haired child with the worst-looking glasses in the world (honestly – cat-shaped in bright white. What was I thinking??), pudgy and with orthopedic shoes. Small wonder I don't have many photos of my less-than-gorgeous self from those days!
I would come home from school in tears, as my classmates kindly pointed out my flaws, just in case I wasn't aware of them myself. My mom, who rocks, by the way, gave me some great advice. “Well, honey, why don't you just explain that you're wearing those shoes because you're trying to correct a foot problem?”
Grumbling to myself about how little good that would do, I nonetheless figured I had nothing to lose. So the next time some wit commented on my granny clodhoppers, I explained why I was wearing them. To my complete shock, my tormentor blushed and mumbled, “Oh, sorry.” And that was the last I heard of that.
Oh but not to worry – there were plenty of other things to pick on, from my weight to my hair to my terminal lack of coolness. But that one little victory gave me an important boost of self-confidence, and I realized that I could defend myself with my mind -and my smart mouth - if not my charm and good looks.
While this allowed me to get through childhood relatively unscathed, it also shaped who I am today. I've been criticized – fairly, I should add – for not always assuming the best in other's intentions, and getting my back up pretty quickly. Sort of one strike and, while you're not out, I'm wary. And to this day I still have a sharper tongue than perhaps is attractive or appropriate.
A lifelong case of sharp elbows, I guess. And while they are not quite as sharp as they were when I was younger and less, uh, mellow, they can still hurt when coming in contact with someone else's ribs.
I've been thinking about this since the terrible murder of Lawrence King, and what feels like a consistent flow of school shootings. Bullying behavior has come into the spotlight as a problem needing addressing, and you know what? It's about time.
Some colleagues and I were having lunch in the cafeteria a couple weeks ago, and I mentioned two powerful books I read on the subject – Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult and We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver (serious warning to parents of young children – do NOT read the Shriver book until your children are grown and out of the house...it's a devastating read). As we talked about the books, one of my lunch mates shook her head and told us how her son had been bullied to the point where they had to change schools. And how she almost ended up arrested when she verbally took on one of his tormenters in front of the boy's father - a man to whom she appealed several times in the past to speak to his son - to no avail.
Not every victim ends up traumatized for life. And very, very few end up exploding in violent behavior. But there are still those who do, taking their own lives in despair or the lives of others - or both. Or who end up being killed for being different, as did Lawrence King.
One lost life is too many. One incident is too many. One victim is too many. One trauma is too much. As parents, as teachers, as citizens, as members of the community, we must speak out. It's not OK. Children are born without knowing the rules of getting along with others, and it's our job to civilize them. Even if that child who is not behaving all that nicely is...ours.
One problem with bullying is that it's a contagious disease. It hurts the recipient who in turn may look for ways to get even or become a bully himself or herself. Another problem with it is that the best person to fight it is the victim, who often cannot defend him or herself. When parents intercede, bullying is often exacerbated, not lessened.
But it's not hopeless. Clear rules about bullying and strong enforcement of them by TIC (those in charge) make a difference. There's too much at stake not to do this.
Sharp elbows are a small price to pay for being bullied. Lost and ruined lives are costly beyond imagination.
Posted by terrymckenzie ( Mar 11 2008, 08:00:00 AM PDT ) Permalink Comments [0]
Monday March 10, 2008 Thanks to all of you who engaged in the conversation on my last post regarding Great Places to Work. I learned a lot hearing from you, both those who responded publicly and those who contacted me 1:1. You really showed what participation and open dialogue are all about.
We have some things to fix here, but we have so much going for us. The passion I heard from you reminded me why I'm here - and not ready to give up on this place.
So my next blog will go onto another subject - bullies, this time. But as I see things happening here, I'll keep writing about it.
Thank you again for your openness. Oh, and I did miss one country who made a GPTW list this year - South Korea. You guys rock!
Posted by terrymckenzie ( Mar 10 2008, 06:45:07 AM PDT ) Permalink Comments [0]
Monday March 03, 2008 Rejected! Great Places to Work
OK, I'm going to say what is obvious to anyone who picked up the February 4 Fortune magazine - Sun did not make it on the U.S. 100 Best Places to Work list. And I was soooo disappointed.
Because I think Sun is a great place to work. Unfortunately, some of our randomly selected survey takers didn't agree with me.
For those of you who are not familiar with the coveted Great Places to Work (GPTW because I'm getting tired of typing) list, let me quickly fill you in. You get your face on Fortune Magazine's cover and fabulous publicity if you're chosen as the number one place to work in the United States. That honor has gone to Google for the past two years, curse them. Not that I'm jealous. Anyway, you get on the list -which is incredibly prestigious even if you're number 100 (Joke: What do you call the person who graduates first in class from medical school? Answer: Valedictorian. What do you call the person who graduates last? Answer: Doctor) by going through a grueling application process. Two-thirds of your score is based on a survey that goes to a very small subset of your employee base - something like 400 people this past year. No, we don't get to choose who gets it. No, it's not statistically significant. Yes, those are the rules you must play by for the playing field to be even.
I'm now going to reveal a big corporate secret. Reporters, take note! Are you ready? While our application was fabulous, we were done in by some pretty poor survey results. It seems that doing a series of reductions in force over the past five years has not contributed to warm, cozy feelings on the part of our survey takers. Nor have other cutbacks we've been forced to make to stay in business made our participants feel particularly good. And let's face it. Reductions cause not only insecurity for employees but very valid concerns about career opportunities. So I'm not kidding myself about their impact on employee morale.
As Bob Dylan said, "You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows."
Our wind is apparently darn cold and from the north, based on that survey. (In fairness, I have to tell you that our broad semi-annual employee attitude survey - while pointing out some distinct areas for improvement - was far more positive than the GPTW survey. I don't know if that means that employees are drinking happy juice when completing our corporate survey...)
Here's what's ironic to me - of all the companies that I know of who have gone through extremely hard times, companies who have had to fight for their lives, Sun shines brightly in our determination to be as kind to employees going out as employees coming in. We are, IMHO, a darn nice place to work. And beyond that, we're a place filled with interesting work and smart people.
Our turnaround - fought for by every single employee in this company - is showing results. Analysts have good things to say about us. Customers have good things to say about us. Developers have good things to say about us. Our press coverage has dramatically improved. We've been public about what we're going to accomplish and we've met those commitments. We've stopped changing our strategy and focus on a too-frequent basis and are demonstrating "stick-to-itness."
I'm proud of this company and of our leadership, but mostly I'm proud of our 33,000 employees who have done so much to keep us going.
Building on the momentum of success is easy. Rebounding after six bad years is extremely difficult. I think maybe it's time for a new award. The "Tough as Nails Proud to be Relevant" award (TNPR). Or the "Better than Ever Despite Hard Times" award (BEDHT). Or the "Got Guts, Got Heart" award (GGGH). Somewhere there needs to be recognition for those of us who have marched on a tough trail, teetered near disaster and recovered strongly albeit battle-scarred.
I miss so many great people who used to be a part of us. Who through no fault of their own are no longer here. So this award is for you, too.
Oh, and one last thought. How many companies would let you - never mind encourage you - to say what's on your mind about sensitive subjects like getting dinged by your employees? As my friend and colleague Betty Verstegen said, "You don't have to get on a list to be a great place to work."
Posted by terrymckenzie ( Mar 03 2008, 08:00:00 AM PST ) Permalink Comments [52]
Tuesday February 26, 2008 We walked into the emergency room to find Mrs. Patterson, a frantic grandmother in a wheelchair, arm in sling, foot swollen to twice its normal size. On the gurney to her right lay Derek, her five-year old grandson. On the gurney to her left lay her son, Stan. As soon as we approached, she tearfully poured out her story - how they had just dropped off her daughter-in-law at work when their car was hit from behind, and then went flying out of control into the center divider. Lip trembling, she told us that while her grandson looks like he'll make it, Stan is in trouble. Sam interrupted her at that point, saying, "Ma, what happened? Where am I?" She reminded him they had been in a car accident. "But Derek? How's Derek?" She reassured him that his son was doing fine. He slipped off into sleep again while Mrs. Patterson held his hand and stroked his arm. All at once, his eyes flew open. "I don't feel good. I don't feel right," he groaned. And went into seizures.
This was no ordinary emergency room. And the Patterson family is no ordinary family. Derek and Stan are manikins - robots with highly sophisticated software and hardware that allow them to mimic a wide variety of life-threatening conditions. And Mrs. Patterson? A trained actress.
We were at Case Western Reserve's medical school in Cleveland, Ohio, and were being treated to a tour of the most advanced form of training for medical, dental and nursing students.
Imagine being able to learn how to thread an IV on a lifelike manikin - so lifelike it has fake blood pumping through its veins. So much better than practicing on a patient who tends to protest loudly if you don't get the needle placed on the first stab. Imagine being able to try resuscitation on a manikin, knowing that the stakes are so much lower than they will be in a real emergency room. Imagine practicing your communication skills with an actor rather than a patient - far more room for freshman errors. Even Stan is built to handle different levels of ability - it may take an hour for a first year student to "kill" Stan but a fourth year student may have only 10 minutes to save Stan's life.
For the professors, this training situation is a blessing. Not only are students exposed to many different scenarios - all of which can be replicated for each student, allowing comparison of skills. But the encounters are all taped, and students can watch how they did for themselves, rather than hearing someone else's interpretation.
One of the people in my tour group asked why the medical school hadn't come up with this years earlier. The answer is that it took advances on a variety of fronts to let this happen - technology, of course, but also the realization that communication skills are as important as technical skills in the practice of medicine. The combination of manikins and actors is a powerful one.
A year ago last fall, I wrote about my trip through a Chilean copper mine, and remarked how amazing it was to find sophisticated technology at work there, saving workers from dangerous situations. I couldn't help but be reminded of that while visiting Case. It makes me proud to be part of Silicon Valley and a technology industry that makes so many differences to so many people.
For more on this story, click here....
Posted by terrymckenzie ( Feb 26 2008, 08:00:00 AM PST ) Permalink Comments [0]
