My First Redundancy
I think I was around 25 or 26 and had recently landed my dream job. I was finally an HR advisor, a generalist in other words, for a company I really enjoyed working for. I had been there for about 18 months, waiting for this opportunity and I had worked hard to get it.
My boss was amazing, very inspirational and I was ever so slightly in awe of her and 100% wanted to do a good job and prove myself as a great hire. She had a bit of a fierce reputation but had a fantastic sense of humour and I knew I would learn so much from her.
Now, part of that generalist role would obviously be working on redundancies. I was relatively young and had never made anyone redundant, I hadn’t even come across anyone who had been made redundant.
I can remember that first one as if it was yesterday.
The restructuring plan had been signed off and my manager felt it was an opportunity for me to grow so I had been assigned a business manager to support and we had met, discussed the situation, and set the date for our meeting with the employee. We would do the meeting together.
My manager talked me through how the conversation would likely go and on the day of the meeting we sat in the little office that we shared and she shut the door, sat at the little shared table and said, “Come on then, make me redundant”. I used to hate role play at the best of times, so I stuttered and stammered my way through my ‘brief’ and at the end she looked at me, shrugged and said “that was terrible, I hope you do better in the real meeting”.
Ugh.
So I slowly made my way across to our other trading floor offices where the meeting would take place. I vividly remember that walk, I can remember the weather that day, I know what suit I was wearing, the shoes and I remember the feeling of clutching the bunch of papers and files to me, I also remember the feeling of flight that I was trying desperately to keep under control.
I was very fond of the manager I would be supporting, and he was pretty seasoned so that at least made me feel safe.
When I arrived outside the meeting room the door was shut so I just took a seat in a waiting chair. I practised my dialogue in my head, going over and over everything. I had all the necessary paperwork, and I knew the terms so I just sat and waited.
To my surprise the door to the office swung open and I was facing the manager. He shut the door behind him, but as he did, I glimpsed the shape of another man sitting at the table. In surprise, I looked back at the manager and asked what was going on. He told me he couldn’t wait so he’d had the conversation without me and now I needed to go and talk about the terms.
My stomach hit the floor but I composed myself and asked him how it had gone.
He looked me straight in the eye “Terrible, he’s just bought a new house and his wife told him last night that she’s pregnant”, and with that he propelled me forward with one arm, opened the door with the other and kind of shoved me, whispering “Good Luck” in my ear.
Again, I remember that meeting room so clearly. It smelled slightly of stale tobacco and the chairs were old blue ones, the table was round, grey and scuffed with 3 chairs and a man sitting there, his head in his hands.
I stood in the doorway, staring at him. In reality it was probably only for a few seconds but it felt way longer. Eventually I mentally shook myself, took his hand to introduce myself and we sat down together at the table.
His shoulders were hunched, his head was down, his arms were on the table. He looked straight at me. As I looked back I could feel tears in my eyes. I knew everything about this redundancy, I had been involved from the moment the thought had germinated for the manager so I knew it wasn’t personal and yet in that moment I really struggled.
I cannot remember the rest of the conversation.
Fast forward 2 months and it was that particular departments’ Christmas party. At 25/26 I was always up for a party so I gleefully went along. I walked through the doors into the big hall in central London, greeted the manager, accepted a glass of wine and started to make my way into the throng of people. I’d barely walked a couple of steps when I looked disbelievingly at the person in front of me. It was the guy from that first redundancy.
He opened his arms wide when he saw me, a big smile on his face. “Oh my God, what are you doing here?” I asked him. He grabbed me by the shoulders “I’m here as a client!” “Redundancy was the best thing that happened to me”. I remember standing staring at him, speechless. He laughed, “I’ll never forget your face in that meeting, you looked like you were going to cry; you looked more scared than I was, ha ha ha”.
Wow. I never expected that.
I have reflected many times on this experience over the years. The majority of my HR career was spent in investment banking and there have been so many restructures / RIF’s / redundancies whatever you call them, that I have been involved with over that 15+ year career. None however have affected me like that first one did, my learnings from that were with me for each subsequent meeting I had.
There is definitely another blog post (or two) about redundancies that I will share over time because I really think it is such a hugely important subject in the world we now live in - I’ve been the HR person, I’ve worked with hundreds of managers, and I’ve been the employee.
It’s tough for the HR professionals, it’s tough for the managers - who are often very close to their employees - and it’s incredibly tough for the impacted employee.
I took enormous pride in every single redundancy I was involved in because without a shadow of a doubt it would change the person on the receiving end. Whether they secretly wanted it, openly wanted it, or it was an utter surprise, when it actually happens it is a shock and there is a personal process to be gone through.
What would be my top 3 insights – regardless of which seat you are sitting in?
1) For you, the manager – always remember to have compassion. You may be dreading the meeting but you are in a position of knowledge, the recipient in the most part is not. Be real and be authentic.
2) For you, the HR professional – this is one of the toughest parts of the job. It’s the part where you need to pull on every reserve of professionalism and empathy you have.
3) For you, the employee, [largely] unaware of what is happening behind the scenes in most cases – you will get through this. You do have choices.
Whatever seat you sit in, it’s an emotive subject.
I’d be interested in your thoughts... Do you agree with my comments? How does this resonate with you?
Image credit: Abbie Bernet on Unsplash