On Friday I had finally had my fill of Smithers. I had thought I'd had my fill before, but on Friday I became clear that either something was going to change or I was going to have to leave. Immediately.
As I'd cried my frustrations onto the shoulder of a colleague who both has worked closely with Smithers and has the ear of Mr. Burns, I got a phone call that afternoon checking in. Mr. Burns reassured me that next year would be different, that I wouldn't have to be supervised by Smithers next year, but I pointed out that next year is a really long way away, and I was much closer to the end of my rope than I was to August. He said we should both think about it over the weekend and touch base on Monday.
I spent Friday closeted in my office, playing solitaire and trying not to cry. I spent Saturday running around being social and ignoring everything. I spent Sunday panicking. I woke up panicking, I did a walking video panicking, and I went to brunch panicking. If I couldn't find some way out of this situation, I would have to find another job and I didn't want to find another job. I like my job. I love my school. I adore my colleagues, every one but one.
We ended up at coffee with L&S, and out of desperation I picked their brains. I wasn't anticipating getting anywhere, but somehow in that conversation I moved from thinking it was purely about my misery to realizing there were good, organizational reasons that Mr. Burns needed to fix this problem ASAP. For one, the organization is in a cash crunch, and he needs fundraising to be working on all cylinders with very little in the way of time wasting. For another, our annual fundraising gala is in April and I could find another job faster than he could replace me. So there was that.
R came over for Sunday night dinner, and we talked through it more--not only why it needed to happen but how to make a significant organizational change seem easier and more logical than dealing with this situation as it stood. We brainstormed, I took notes, and I went in on Monday morning and wrote up a memo. A very clear memo, one that articulated the problem in organizational terms (not my emotional ones), described how I had repeatedly tried to address the problem, and finally proposed that my team's supervision immediately move from Smithers to Mr. Burns, complete with caveats for how to minimize the increased demand on Mr. Burns' time.
I went into my meeting with him nervous as hell and armed with arguments said and unsaid. I know him well enough to know that threatening to leave would backfire--he would feel betrayed and angry and that wouldn't do. I knew not to directly address the significant problem of having HR in the hands of the one person no one can work with, who has no training in management or personnel issues at all. I simply said that I had thought all weekend long, and I couldn't come up with anything incremental that we hadn't already tried. Nothing. I handed him my proposal and prepared to argue. He skimmed it, said he was sympathetic, but he needed time to read it and think. Could we meet again at 3? Later he asked for overnight, and of course I said yes.
The following day we had phone conversations. What if he took everything but grants? What if Smithers was still my supervisor but Mr. Burns sat in on all of the meetings? What if, what if, what if. In the middle of the what-ifs, I pointed out that we needed to not just find a workable solution, but a workable solution plus a rationale that allowed Smithers to save face and didn't endanger anyone's working relationships. Mr. Burns sounded relieved and we talked through some options.
I was really careful to not back down, to not minimize my experience, while still engaging Mr. Burns' concerns. On Wednesday I got a grumpy phone call telling me he'd give me what I wanted, even though he didn't necessarily think it was the best option for him or for the school, and I needed to make this as easy on him as possible. I agreed and thanked him profusely. R was scandalized that he would say he didn't think it was the best option, but I think Mr. Burns was himself trying to save face, since I essentially forced him to deal with a problem he'd been ignoring. He can be as grumpy and face-saving as he wants to be, really, because I am no longer being supervised by Smithers.
Yesterday was an amazing day. On top of my phone call with Mr. Burns, Ms. P got an interview for a job she really, really wants, a job that is much more in line with her experience, skills, and interests than her current job. So we went out for sushi to celebrate.
I feel exhilarated and exhausted at the same time. This is not a skill I ever did--or possibly ever could--learn in academia; the helplessness of having no leverage at all once you sign the contract was very disheartening. I know now that Mr. Burns values me and the work I do (he said more than once that he wanted to keep me), and the biggest reason to hate my job is either gone or effectively gone. I have room to do what I need to do, room to do a fantastic job, room to have a really productive team. It's amazing.
To a large degree, I credit the kick-ass ritual Ms. P and R and I did several weeks ago. It's a truism of asking for what you really want--whether through ritual or some other means--to ask for only the goal, because the universe has more ways than you know to get you to that goal, and often faster than you'd expect. I asked for my goal, and I got, and I am thanking the Goddess.