I did not understand what being “laid off” or “recession” meant but I knew we couldn’t go out to eat regularly and that we couldn’t go on vacation. However, at four years old, I mostly ate macaroni and cheese and was content with building a fort out of couch cushions and blankets. I knew that it meant my mother went to work and discovered coupons but also, it meant my dad could spend time with me. I didn’t understand why that didn’t make everyone happy because previously, he was always “on the road” doing his sales job.

I don’t remember exactly how much time our family remained in that state of uncertainty and fear, but I do remember the kite that we made and flew, the high school baseball games we watched, early morning fishing, walks around the neighborhood, tours of factories and the fish hatchery and trips to museums. I treasured.every.moment.

Over 20 years later, barely out of college, I found myself “on the road” doing my sales job, coming home late each night, but revived each morning and eager to succeed. Dad’s advice to me was to “just talk to people, have a conversation, be genuine and keep in touch”. He told me that people want to be heard and my job was to make sure I consult them on a solution that met their needs. He told me to build a relationship.

One of my first tasks was to introduce myself to my “accounts”–those who had contracts with my company that I was expected to renew.  When I introduced myself and listened, I was shocked. They all described how they had been neglected after signing and felt angry and deceived. When I talked to my boss about this, I expected to receive guidance on how the company would correct the experience. Instead, he told me to find new accounts. I was troubled but my coworkers assured me this was “normal”. I took my dad’s advice and built honest relationships with new accounts. It came naturally and I was successful, but the company culture was dead weight, hanging on me.

Five months in, the branch manager (the boss of my boss) called me in to discuss a call of praise he had received from a customer whom I had consulted and advised against spending $2,000 on a product that he asked about because it didn’t perform functions he assumed. He valued the honesty and education from me enough to call. Wrong move – according to the branch manager. I explained that from my conversation with the customer, I knew the business was expanding and that I’d laid the foundation to sell a $15,000 unit within 3 months to meet the new demand. I even had an appointment with him to visit the office to look at the equipment I suggested. Still, to the manager –wrong answer. He told me to tell customers what they wanted to hear in the moment (regardless of whether it was true) and invoice units. Lie and move on. I remember the look of disappointment on his face as I bravely fought back tears.

That evening, I vented to my father about my scolding and he told me about the time he was fired for the same thing (–the time that ultimately led to some of my best childhood memories). I was shocked. My dad, fired? It was hard to believe. His colleagues and clients alike always went out of their way to say hello and invite him (and sometimes me!) to their gatherings. He was valued and that always inspired me.  He told me to ask myself if I wanted to work for a place that didn’t value what I offered and caused me to place a value on my integrity. He told me that their expectations were not going to change and asked if I could be comfortable with that long-term? No and no. I left and have never looked back.  

I think about that time often. I am grateful for the guidance and example my father has provided, and I still appreciate his continued support and advice (and wish I took more of it in my earlier years – as I imagine all children who thought they knew better come to realize around this age). Understanding that experience makes me value childhood memories more. I am entirely proud to call him “Dad”.