Initially, when they hired me, they thought I was deeply knowledgeable. They were impressed with my solid understanding of quality and the breadth of my experience. Now they were wondering if I fit in. There are doubts about whether I mesh with others well enough to be productive; whether I wasn’t gumming up projects instead. They tell me people are afraid to engage with me. I’m trying, I respond, laying out a dozen examples of efforts I’ve made. I want to help reduce the time it takes to complete a project. I care deeply about my coworkers. But not so far back in my mind I’m wondering the same things.
I do want to help complete projects faster, but I also want them to be done well. I truly care deeply about my coworkers, so I want them to develop. It’s a challenge for me to contain my frustration with sloppiness and laziness. Despite my best efforts, what I feel is plainly apparent on my face. As I grind through each workday I think about the choices I’ve made: living apart from my family, postponing relationships, and foregoing vacations. I think about how hard I’ve worked to build my expertise–countless nights, weekends and holidays spent studying textbooks and papers–and how demoralizing it is to not be able to put it to practice. For what?
My values and actions have remained consistent with one another. The struggle is to keep them aligned when doing so means not fitting in with a group. I have stood on my own a long time. It’s exhausting.