When I was attending BYU as a student, I worked as a telephone operator. My brother had my job lined up for me when I returned home from my mission. Some fun and amazing people worked in that office with us, including my future wife, Kelly. The director over customer service and support was Christine Oakes, a dear friend of Kelly's mother from high school.
We had a full-time supervisor over the telephone operators to help with scheduling, training, and other needs. A new manager, Louise Hatch, was hired for this position within my first year working for the telephone office. Louise was a single parent and just reentering the workforce. After a short time, I recognized that Louise was a good supervisor who was also kind and caring. She was easy to follow because she always wanted what was best for you as an employee in addition to fulfilling her duties to the organization.
At the time, BYU telephone operators had overlapping shifts that allowed the office to be open 24 hours. Graveyard shifts were brutal, and I had my fair share once I became a senior operator. Louise worked during normal business hours from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., and then duties were turned over to a student senior operator to manage the phone operators after hours and on weekends. At 11 p.m., one or two operators came into the office for the graveyard shift, which lasted until 6 a.m., when operations would ramp back up.
Being a telephone operator was one of the most coveted student jobs at BYU. You basically needed to be referred by someone in a position of trust to become an operator. Yes, this practice resulted in plenty of nepotism before new hiring policies were eventually adopted; however, this hiring also led to increased accountability and working with a tightknit group of peers in a high-trust environment.
My dad's cousin, Max Davis, was a director in the IT Department. He put in a good word for my brother to be hired. My brother, Dave, then put in a good word for me. I was basically hired while I was still serving a church mission in Argentina.
I had now worked for the telephone office for several months and had grown in my confidence and competence. One evening I was working after 5 p.m. with a handful of other operators when the conversation turned to our new manager, Louise. I was horrified to find two of my male coworkers mocking and criticizing our new manager. I had already developed respect for Louise and her abilities, so I was dumbfounded by what seemed to be unfair and unwarranted hostility. My shift soon ended, and I left on my trek home to my apartment. As I walked home, I wondered what I could do to improve this situation. I decided to do the brave and difficult thing—tell Louise what had happened, so she could take whatever steps necessary.
The next day while I was working, I asked if I could talk with Louise privately during my shift. She accommodated my request, and we moved to another room for our conversation. Once we were alone, I explained what had happened the night before. As I ended my account, I added, "I just thought you would like to know." My message delivered, I then relaxed and waited for an expression of gratitude for my demonstration of loyalty and coming forward with this information.
But instead of expressing appreciation for bravely snitching on my peers, Louise asked, "How did you respond?" I hadn't. I hadn't said a single word in defense of my manager. I explained that I was just ending my shift and that I didn't really have a chance. She said, "Well, there's nothing I can do about it now."
Instead of riding in as a valiant knight on my white steed to protect the honor of my manager, I had only made her feel bad. Immediately, I recognized what I should have done in the moment. Louise didn't need to know that others were gossiping and ripping on her. What she needed to know was that someone had stood up for her in the moment. I should have had her back, ended the conversation, and expressed my appreciation for her as a manager when I had that chance the night before. Now, it was too late for me—or anyone—to improve the situation. I failed miserably when given the opportunity to stand up against backbiting and meanspirited attacks.
While I'm not perfect in only saying nice things about people, I try to provide personal feedback to people directly and in private. When I need to share negative feedback to others in confidence, I try to be fair and honest. I always ask the question, "What will this person think when they learn about this conversation?" I strive to maintain my integrity regardless of the situation, which means speaking up when something isn't right.
I'll always be grateful to Louise for teaching me that invaluable lesson when I was a student at BYU.
