Labels, Names, and Titles

” Who am I this time?”

— Harry Nash, in Kurt Vonnegut’s short story of the same name

I have never been attached to having a title.

We as people are always labeling people by their age, gender, hometown and so much more. The power structures of our workplaces was reflected in the title labels that we assigned ourselves. The organizational chart became an important document for understanding who had power and responsibility and who didn’t.

What I have also discovered is that one’s title doesn’t always reflect their competency, commitment or character.

In my more than forty years of work life, a lot has changed about the importance of titles.

My first working title was teacher. I was raised by a teacher. I went to college to become a teacher. My professors told me it was the most important profession a person could choose. They reinforced my passion for helping youth and those with special challenges. I loved being a teacher and consider myself one even today.

However, when I entered the workplace I found that that title held very little cachet. At parties when asked, “What do you do for a living?” and I proudly responded “I’m a teacher,” their facial response conveyed that being a teacher was unimpressive.

When I challenged the quality of the decision making at the special school where I was employed they clearly let me know that I was, “just a teacher” and to let the Board members make the decisions (which by the way affected me and the students I served). When asked naively, “How I could get on this Board?” their response was quick. “You will never be appointed to this Board, you are ‘just a teacher’”.

When I asked who was on the Board, they replied, “Professionals. Accountants, Attorneys, Business People.” I wasn’t even considered a professional?

That was my first introduction to the power system of organizations, org charts and titles.

I decided to resign my job that spring to become a “professional” so that I could earn my way onto the Board with hopes of being a contributor to a quality educational setting. I know, optimistic and naïve.

When I went to a job placement company, they looked at my résumé and let me know quickly that I couldn’t change my career path toward a business route as I was “just a teacher” and my skills and experience didn’t translate. Labels can be condemning.

It is a good thing that I am persistent and wasn’t deterred by this feedback. I knew that my skills of selling content, presenting content, and designing individual learning plans were valuable. I needed a new wardrobe, new jargon, and specialized experience.

I found my way into small business, sales, marketing and managing. What I discovered in my for-profit transition was that I was a woman in a ‘man’s-world-of-work,’ and that though I was paid more for my efforts, the dysfunctions of managing were as present in business organizations as was they were in the school system I served.

I was learning more about the influence of titles, positioning, and power. These new experiences combined with my past experiences caused me, I believe, to accept that ‘Life is not fair or easy’ but that persistence pays off.

Eventually, I jumped off my newly created professional career path to start my own enterprise. I held a vision for work and a working environment that treated all people with respect. My aspirations were utopian. Yet, I hold to them even today.

We spend more time at work and with our co-workers than anything else that we do. I wondered why can’t the workplace be a temple to people’s greatest strengths?

This concept guided me to my graduate studies in the field of organizational behavior. My newly established marketing consulting firm morphed into a management consulting firm with a mission of developing the leadership and management capabilities to support sustainable organizations.

With business ownership came the title of ‘President’. What I learned was that some people were impressed by a title that really only communicated to whom the IRS should look for financial responsibility!

It didn’t take me long to change my business cards with a title that was more metaphorical. My choice always caused a stir — I was an early user of a moniker that was descriptive and not rooted in a power structure. My choice? Sherpa Guide. This curious label always resulted in my needing to share why I thought that was who I was professionally. Included in this description were my values, my role, and my approach to my consulting.

I had read the biography of Tenzing Norgay who was the Sherpa who guided Sir Edmund Hillary to the summit of Mount Everest in 1953. He was very experienced, did not push or pull or carry Sir Edmund. He knew the path. He packed the resources. He guided the steps through each challenge. He supported the safety and the success of his client. And Sir Edmund received all the accolades. That aligned with my definition of a great consultant and how I approached my consulting relationships. Today, I am still proud to be a Sherpa Guide. I don’t have a power title. My influence comes from what I contribute.

I was a ‘road warrior’ (another assigned title) in the first decade of my career. Whenever I was seated on a plane, the first question my seatmate would ask is, “What do you do?” When I replied, “I am a consultant” they would frequently roll their eyes. Seems the plane was filled will traveling consultants. We were ‘a dime a dozen’ in the 1990’s. The title wasn’t very specific. So the seatmate would inquire further, “In what do you consult?” When I answered, I consult in the field of organizational development (a field that was still young and developing), their face would show confusion, and they would say pretty universally, “You organize people’s closets?”

When people ask your title they are trying to find out where you fit in the world (or pecking order). Their biases color how they perceive you and your title.

So, what is the use of these titles, these labels? Do they really have meaning?

I would like to advocate less for titles and organizational charts and more for a way of communicating the landscape of the work-world that reflects the mission, values, and how the constituents interact, to serve the client.

When I challenged one of my favorite clients to shift from their org chart (in which employees competed to put their names in the most prestigious boxes) to a more organic way to communicate roles, relationships, and responsibilities, we settled on the metaphor of a baseball team. In our metaphor, the CEO was the manager, each function maned a base, all players were needed to support the sales, design, manufacture, and delivery of their products. The distributors had a role in the game of their business. The score board reflected their wins and losses. The strategic plan was their play book. Similar to Walt Disney….this CEO embraced the new language of his business —new behaviors followed.

The result was an organic way of working that focused everyone on the customer and not on their position or competition within. Now everyone was competing with the real market competitors and not each other (for power and position).

This rumination about titles and power structures occurred to me as I was asked by a colleague recently, “What are you doing these days?” I responded by saying that I was a “Camp Counselor.” This new titled popped out of my mouth.

It is not too far removed from Sherpa Guide. There are many parallels with some nuances. I loved camp. I loved being a counselor. And I loved creating memorable experiences for my campers. I think I am still doing this with my adult clients— creating an environment and culture for supporting their success; designing learning experiences that grow their abilities; ensuring safety, team relationships, and fun. And cheering their progress always.

I do this now virtually and am planning a physical ‘camp’ experience with colleagues for the spring and fall at a friend’s horse ranch. I believe that we are just ‘kids in big bodies’ doing our best each day. This pandemic has challenged and changed us. We need to find our way back to the basics. We need to fill our souls. I embrace the ‘camp counselor’ in me that wants to create these kinds of experiences.

We are not one-dimensional. I am still a business owner. I am still an author, speaker, consulting, facilitator, and coach. Personally, I am a ‘Mom’ to a four-footed family, sister, aunt, neighbor, friend, colleague, and so many more titles. There are days that I would like to be a ‘Princess’ (or at least be treated like one).

How do you feel about titles?

What titles do you embrace?

What titles have you shed?

Who are you going to be after the Pandemic?