Honestly,
People have such lovely answers when you ask what words have inspired their careers.
Philosophers. Poets. Great thinkers. Someone with a portrait in a library.
Someday, someone is going to ask which phrase got me through the hardest parts of mine.
I should probably prepare an answer.
Some people find inspiration in great books. Others find it in music.
I, too, found guidance from an unexpected voice of his time.
Kid Rock.
I do not know who his intended demographic was, but apparently I was part of it.
The album was Devil Without a Cause, released in 1998, and I played that CD constantly.
It was a simpler, slightly wilder time—before my days filled up with calendar invitations and an inbox full of emails.
I was not in HR yet. Nobody was asking me to circle back.
But one line stayed with me and eventually found its way into my professional life.
I haven’t kept up with what he’s doing these days. I’m talking about the CD that got a lot of play back then, and one little reminder that stayed with me long after it left the rotation.
I will spare you the complete lyric.
This letter has already required enough supervision.
The workplace-friendly shorthand is: “Biscuits don’t mean sausage to me.”
That is not the actual lyric. Breakfast has done nothing wrong here.
There will not be a needlepoint pillow.
I do, however, keep the first letters on my desk.
B. D. M. S. T. M.
To the casual observer, they could be another business acronym.
We have so many. Nobody gets suspicious until you offer to explain one.
I have shared the meaning with people I know really, really well.
Perhaps I’ll share the uncensored version on my last day. Because if I start quoting it at work, it may become my last day.
Underneath this questionable choice of motivational speaker is a reminder I have actually needed:
Other people’s opinions of me do not automatically deserve more weight than my own.
That is the meaning I took from the line.
I can hear difficult feedback. I can recognize a mistake. I can change my behavior.
But I do not have to hand someone the authority to define me simply because they have an opinion.
Another question helps me decide how much weight to give it:
Would I go to this person for advice?
Do I trust their judgment? Do they understand the work? Do they know enough about me to offer something useful?
If not, why have I given them a reserved seat in my head?
Front row. Complimentary refreshments. Apparently, season tickets.
I can still check whether there is something worth learning. Useful feedback occasionally arrives in packaging I would not have selected.
But I do not have to make someone my unofficial career counselor simply because they volunteered a review.
There is a difference between considering someone’s perspective and letting it become the entire story I tell myself.
One person can dislike how I handled something without being right about everything I am.
A comment can deserve a second look without deserving the rest of my afternoon.
And sometimes the useful part is small enough to take with me while leaving the rest behind.
That is what those letters on my desk help me remember.
Listen for what is useful.
Be honest about what needs to change.
Keep my own judgment in the conversation.
I can consider what someone said without moving into it and forwarding my mail.
I wish I could tell you this wisdom arrived through a beautifully bound book with a ribbon bookmark.
It came on a CD with a parental advisory.
Apparently, professional development takes many forms.
Reflections
1. Whose opinion have I been giving more weight than their knowledge, judgment, or relationship with me warrants?
2. What is the difference between useful feedback about something I did and a sweeping judgment about who I am?
3. What helps me stay open to learning without handing over my sense of worth?
From the Toolbox
1. Identify the actual feedback. Separate the specific observation from assumptions, labels, or your own worst interpretation. If needed, ask for an example.
2. Consider the source. Ask what this person knows about the situation and whether their judgment has proved useful. Evaluate the information as well as the messenger.
3. Choose what to use. Identify one concrete thing you can learn or change. You do not have to accept every part of a comment to benefit from part of it.
4. Consult someone you trust. When feedback leaves you rattled, ask a thoughtful person who knows your work to help you assess it honestly. Look for perspective, not just reassurance.
5. Give the replay an ending. Write down what you are taking from the feedback and what you will do next. When the comment starts another performance in your head, return to that decision.
