The career path of previous generations has been expanded to include lattices as well as ladders. Once upon a time, the only direction was up, and climbing each rung may have entailed stepping on a few heads. Now, lateral career moves have become more common as people’s careers splinter, diverge, and curve as wildly as a river. Individuals may move from operations to sales, then communications or research and development, picking up new skills and experience along the way. The keyword is move. Most people (but certainly not all!) envision a significant amount of growth in their careers, with desires of earning more money, gaining more autonomy and prestige, working up to their potential, and maybe most importantly, achieving higher levels of personal happiness.
Today, organizations with progressive talent management strategies provide defined career paths for people to accommodate these needs. Ladders, career paths that move vertically within a function, allow people to advance when they are satisfied within a specific department. Lattices, career paths that move among various functions, allow people to grow and often explore different jobs within an organization without having to leave that group. Employees benefit as they are not pigeonholed in a function they may not enjoy. Additionally, the company benefits as the employee becomes well-rounded and better able to understand the company’s big picture. Companies with lattices also benefit from lower employee turnover and better attraction performance.
Jamal’s Career Path Blockade
Jamal ladled out a heap of spaghetti and handed the plate to his mom.
“This looks delicious.” She grabbed the Parmesan cheese.
“Good news, Ma. I got a job.”
A smile spread across her face. “Fantastic. Where?”
“At Traverse Inn. I’m in Shipping and Receiving to start and they said I can move up to the Front Desk if all goes well.”
“Front desk—like, wearing a suit and everything?”
“Those clerks make $12 an hour, that’s way above minimum wage. There’s a lot of opportunity to move up if I play my cards right. The place is owned by a big corporation called McElroy. They own hotels all over the country.”
She was pleased, but cautious. “Please do your best to keep your grades up. You’re too good at school to throw it all away.”
“I won’t go out for football next year. I’ll work instead.”
“Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it. I like to see you play.”
“If I’m working, maybe you won’t have to work so many double shifts. I can help out a bit.”
“You should save your money for college, Jamal.”
“I’m going to treat you to a lobster dinner with my first paycheck, Ma. You deserve it.”
She laughed. “I’m fine with spaghetti. Especially when you make it.”
Boxes hit the floor and the boom echoed throughout the delivery area. Travel-sized toiletries tumbled out and rolled across the floor under shelving units. The floor was slick with hair conditioner. The hand truck had crashed into a tall shelving unit, and falling forward it wrapped its shelves around the runaway truck’s scuffed metal gears. Jamal, an innocent bystander, was beaned in the head by a falling box of toilet paper, splattering the cherry slushy he was holding across his t-shirt. He stood frozen in place, the five other guys around him in various states of despair and fear but thankfully uninjured.
Approaching angry footsteps grew louder. “What’s going on back there?”
Brian and Will laughed nervously.
Doug rounded the corner. He saw the disaster and his eyes grew wide. “Anybody hurt?”
“No, sir,” Jamal answered.
“Then what the hell happened?”
It was Jamal’s first week on the job. He wasn’t about to volunteer information.
“We had a runaway hand truck,” Brian said, barely containing his laughter.
“You’re fired, Watson.”
Brian’s smirk disappeared. “Wait—that’s not—”
“Out.”
Will stopped snickering too.
“You too, Dulmage. I’ve had enough of the both of you. And I’m taking the cost of this lost inventory out of your last paychecks.”
Brian and Will had been the main perpetrators, playing games with the equipment, and Doug knew it. Will and Brian looked momentarily like they would protest and thought better of it. Brian muttered something as they turned to leave, only part of which was audible.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Doug yelled after them as they headed toward the door. He turned to the rest of the group. “If I ever see something like this again, you’re all fired and you’ll be sued for damages. McElroy has the money it needs to obliterate idiots like you.” He pointed to the mess on the floor. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to clean this up and put everything back like it never happened.”
It was an inauspicious start to his career, but Jamal knew he’d dodged a bullet. A couple feet to the right, and that metal shelf would have gashed his skull. On the bright side, he had just moved up two spots in seniority in Shipping and Receiving.
“Hey. What’s your name again?”
Jamal stopped stacking boxes and looked around. Doug appeared to be talking to him.
“Me? Jamal.”
“Come with me, Jamal.” Doug turned on his heels and started walking briskly toward the Operations office.
Was he in trouble? He searched his mind for what he might have done.
They reached the office, and Doug wheeled around to face him.
“I’ve been watching you. You’re a good worker.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Call me Doug. You remind me of myself when I was your age, lots of initiative. I started with McElroy thirty years ago. I had your job, and now I’m head of Logistics for a three-county area. The company rewards people like you. Tell me, Jamal. What kind of plans do you have for the future?”
“College, I hope.”
“That’s what I like to hear. You want to move up to a different position, make more money?”
“I kind of had my eye on desk clerk, or something with the books. I’m really good with numbers.”
Doug slapped Jamal on the back. “Just stay away from the idiots and it’s a no brainer.”
“I appreciate it, sir. I won’t let you down.”
Jamal had a spring in his step the rest of the day. He’d watched his brothers hop from one job to the next, never gaining any traction. The good jobs they swore were right around the corner never materialized; they’d get laid off or fired before they could climb their way to a decent salary. It was always someone else’s fault: the boss didn’t like them; a guy in the shop had it out for him; he couldn’t get to work on time because of traffic, a flat tire, the alarm didn’t go off. Meanwhile, his mom worked double shifts and still paid their cell phone bills, while she herself went without one. Jamal fantasized about surprising his mom with a brand new phone of her own. He also fantasized further down the line about having his own business. He had no idea how to get there from here, but he was going to try.
In December of his senior year, Jamal told Doug he had applied for an opening as a front desk clerk, thinking Doug would be happy for him, maybe give him a good recommendation.
“You don’t want to do that, son,” Doug said.
“What? Why?”
“It’s a dead end. There’s more opportunity where you are.”
“But it’s a big raise, and it works better with my school schedule.”
Doug shook his head. “I’d hate to see you lose your seniority.”
Jamal was perplexed at Doug’s attitude. He thought his boss would be supportive. “I was thinking that within a couple years I could be a reservation manager. It would be good to have both front-of-house and back-of-house experience.”
“Front-desk is overrated. You get one guest who complains about you and you’re fired. If it’s money you’re after, I guarantee that if you stick it out you’ll be an operations supervisor in four years.”
“I’ve been here over a year and I’m only making fifty cents more an hour.”
“I wish I could do more, but that’s McElroy policy.”
Jamal applied for the job anyway, and the interview was weird. The HR manager kept asking him questions about why he wanted to transfer from Operations. She didn’t seem impressed by his obvious answers: higher pay, broader experience. Instead, she focused on his lack of customer service experience, even though he had been interacting with vendors as customers for over a year. She also asked him why he wasn’t satisfied in Operations, and wasn’t convinced when he told her that he was satisfied.
“They hired someone from the outside,” he told his mom two weeks later, over a dinner of her famous rice and beans.
“Did Doug give you a good recommendation?”
“I’m not sure. I get the feeling they want me where I am.”
“Why don’t you try another hotel chain?”
“Maybe I will. I just thought I’d have a better shot where I already was.”
His mom shook her head. “People are crazy sometimes. No reason for what they do.”
“I don’t want to end up like Jerome and Jermaine, going from one place to the next.”
“I know, but you have to find a place that respects your hard work.”
“Doug says he does, and that I can make it to supervisor in a few years.”
“Hmm is that so? I get the feeling Doug is looking out for Doug.”
Jamal shoveled the rest of his rice and beans into his mouth and eyed the leftovers on the stove. His mom had always been a good judge of character.
Six months later, a housekeeping supervisor position opened up. Jamal had already started picking up some housekeeping duties in addition to shipping and receiving. The supervisor position would include a lot of scheduling and working with HR—a chance to branch out into other areas of hospitality. He asked Doug if he should apply for it.
“They’re looking for someone with supervisory experience,” he said.
“How can I get any experience if all these jobs require it?”
“You’ve only been here two years. You have to pay your dues.”
“The job pays $14 an hour.”
“For starters. You can move up real fast. It will be a good opportunity for you in a year or two.”
Jamal’s frustration made him want to scream. How could he acquire new skills and experience when the company wouldn’t let him?
He applied for the job and managed to snag an interview. It was a different HR rep this time, but the story remained the same.
“Do you have any supervisory experience?”
“I often cover for the operations manager when he’s gone.”
“Have you worked in Housekeeping before?”
“I intersect with the Housekeeping staff on a regular basis as part of my current duties.”
“But you have no formal supervisory or Housekeeping experience?”
“Well, no. But I’m excited by McElroy as a company and I’d like to continue being part of its team. I feel it offers a lot of opportunities for growth.”
“Thank you for your interest. We’ll be in touch.”
The job went to an outsider, a 21-year-old manager of a Dairy Quick on the other side of town. She lasted three months then quit to become the manager of a new restaurant opening down the street. Jamal was near apoplectic. By now his whole family was urging him to quit and get a job somewhere else; he was beginning to think it might be the sensible thing. The heck with company loyalty.
He was processing the daily incoming linen order and joking around with Philippe as always.
“When will you let me drive your truck around the block and show you how I can drift a cube van?”
Philippe laughed. “Driving this box takes real skill, man. Hardly anyone can drive a stick nowadays. I can find those gears in my sleep.”
“That thing is dirty, though. How do you have such clean sheets in there when the van looks like you rolled it through a swamp?”
“Don’t criticize. This van sparkled this morning. You’re the last stop today and it’s seen some massive potholes.”
“So have I, man, so have I.”
They laughed and Philippe got serious for a moment. “Hey, are you looking for a job or anything?”
Jamal shrugged. “What do you have?”
“My boss is leaving. He practically runs the whole operation.”
“Why don’t you apply?”
“Not my thing—I like driving around all day. But you have people skills and that ability to multitask. They’d love you.”
Jamal perked up. “What’s the pay?”
“About average, I guess. But they have cookouts and give away free stuff all the time. Sometimes there’s prizes—last year my buddy went to the Super Bowl.”
“How long have you been there?”
“Five years. They pay my health insurance, which lots of places don’t even do anymore. My son’s got a preexisting condition, so it’s a godsend.”
Jamal shook his hand. “Thanks, man. I just might check them out.”
Lund Linen Supply was a small, family-run company, the opposite of McElroy. But they had been around for forty years and many of the employees stayed for twenty years or more. While the business was hardly exciting, Jamal knew that it would always be an important player in the hospitality industry. A hotel lived and died by its reputation for clean sheets and towels. He interviewed for the operations manager position and was surprised when they offered it to him. He felt hopeful about his career prospects for the first time in years.
“You’re making a mistake,” Doug said. “There’s no ladder to climb over there.”
Jamal sighed. “McElroy won’t let me climb this ladder.”
“You’re going to regret it. Small company, they could go out of business at any moment.”
“Then I can come back here with my supervisory experience and finally get the job I deserve.”
Doug shook his head. “There’s just no helping some people.”
In his frustration, Jamal remembered his first day, when those two idiots crashed the handcart into the shelving unit and caused so much damage. He got it now, their cavalier attitude and lack of respect. In Jamal’s youthful naiveté, it had taken several years to see through the veneer of the McElroy Group.
Jasmine and Liam Add Up the Positives
Jasmine could not get the numbers to match up, no matter how many times she tried. She’d had the same problem in school and had survived her accounting class by a fraction of a point. Plain and simple, numbers made her sweat.
It was her first week in Finance at Positive Electric. Only five months and three weeks to go, and then she would head to Sales and Marketing. Her first six-month rotation in the three-year new employee Career Path program had been in Human Resources, an unexpectedly interesting department. She learned a lot about how the company ran and about senior positions that had gone unmentioned in business school. More importantly, she had made valuable connections with some great people. It was social, and social was fun. Unlike these spreadsheets.
College had been a blur for Jasmine. She was a cheerleader first and a student second. She logged long hours with her squad, and fall weekends were jam-packed with games and travel. She dated athletes, associated with a wide circle of friends, and loved every minute of it. Classes were sometimes an afterthought, although she managed to graduate with a degree in business and a respectable GPA. Her saving grace was her sparkling personality and effervescent smile. Her optimism had kept her afloat whenever she encountered an academic snag.
The spreadsheet on the screen did not care about her smile or the fact that she could do three back handsprings in a row. It stubbornly refused to work. It was hard for her to care about fringe benefit rates and leveraged costs. She had to ask Liam for help for the fourth time this morning. He was always gracious, but she didn’t want to depend on him. It was important that she figure this out herself, even if her stay in Finance was temporary.
For Jasmine, Positive Electric’s Career Rotation Program for new college graduates was a dream. She was armed with a business degree but clueless about her future. She had been sad to leave college, with its constant swirl of friends and activities, and she was headed into adulthood saddled with $25,000 in student loans.
At first, Positive Electric didn’t excite her. They didn’t manufacture a cool product and they didn’t organize flashy events like destination weddings or music festivals. Her dream job—an NFL cheerleader—was tantamount to a volunteer position. Jasmine needed a salary to make a dent in her student debt. She reluctantly applied to Positive Electric after a few other options didn’t pan out. Luckily, she interviewed well, but the spreadsheet before her now was not responding to her fabulous smile and witty remarks.
Sales and Marketing was the bright light at the end of the tunnel, but it was still a long way away. Thankfully there was Liam, for whom she had developed enormous respect. He had just finished the Career Path Program and landed permanently in Finance. Liam was comfortable with numbers; he already knew he wanted to be a CPA and the company’s tuition-reimbursement program was going to help him out with some of the coursework. As an added bonus, he dressed with style and had played baseball in college. Jasmine would always be partial to football, but she definitely appreciated a strong pitching arm.
In the end, the spreadsheet won. It got tired of her feeble attempts to manipulate its formulas and froze. She rebooted her computer, but the data she had been working with all day that was due in fifteen minutes was gone. Poof!
She gasped for air. “No. No, no, no, no, no.”
Liam wheeled over in his ergonomic chair. “Something wrong?”
Jasmine looked at him, wide eyed. “It’s gone!”
Liam looked around, on the desk, the floor. “What?”
“My spreadsheet. Oh my God!”
“Just print it out again.”
Jasmine faced him, terror in her eyes. “Not the hard copy. The actual file!”
“Did you save it?”
“Yes…No…I don’t remember. I made a lot of changes.” Jasmine sunk her face into her hands. “They’re going to kill me.”
“They might torture you for a while, but they won’t kill you.”
Jasmine raised her head to glare at him.
“Let me take a look.” Liam commandeered her laptop and pounded the keyboard like a hacker in a movie. She held her breath.
Five minutes later, he turned to her with the verdict: “Yep. It’s really gone.”
Jasmine cried in despair. “What should I do? I’ve got an hour to input all of this,” waving her hands in front of a jumbled pile of papers on her desk, “and make sure everything adds up.”
“I’ll help.”
“Oh, Liam. I could kiss you!”
He laughed nervously. She had an inkling their friendship might be ready for the next level.
By the time Jasmine’s stint in Finance was over, the spreadsheet debacle was a distant memory and she and Liam had become an item. She admired his technical and mathematical acumen, and he respected her innovative big-picture thinking.
When Jasmine landed in Sales and Marketing, the clouds parted and the sun shone down. Birds sang and the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow turned out to be her sense of belonging, not to mention some nice sales commissions. She had never studied sales or held a sales position before, but three days into her rotation she realized that her cheerleading background was coming in handy with promoting the company’s products and services. Instead of flourishing pom-poms, she had brochures.
Outside sales calls were the most fun. She was out of the office, meeting new people, and each sale felt like winning a game. Clients adored her, and she discovered a passion for giving presentations—it was nothing more than performing in front of a crowd. The best part of sales was the training that came with it. New team members were paired with more experienced reps, and she was learning so much through her mentorship with Joe. Jasmine could see herself becoming an account executive within a couple of years, and maybe eventually a regional sales manager. The travel appealed to her. However, she could also envision a path where she might want to stay closer to home. There seemed to be a significant crossover between Sales and Marketing, and she was interested in learning more.
Jasmine and Liam discussed their divergent experiences in Sales and Marketing over sushi one evening:
“I can read numbers,” Liam said, “but I can’t read people. For me, it was six months of torture.”
“I love people, not numbers. That’s why Sales suits me.”
“I like sitting at my desk all day and solving problems.”
“How can you sit still that long? I need to move around, get out of the office.”
“You’ve got physical energy. I’ve got mental energy.”
She dabbed wasabi on her sashimi. “Good point.”
The department neither of them liked was Production. As much as they valued Positive Electric as a great place to work, Jasmine and Liam didn’t like the minutia of engineering or manufacturing. Making sure the widget machines were running at capacity just didn’t excite either one of them.
“Nothing against manual labor,” Liam said.
“Of course not,” Jasmine responded.
“The shop floor is so loud.”
“It’s not the noise that bothers me, it’s the possibility that one of those machines will tear me in half if I’m not careful.
“Another reason to like Finance. Dismemberment is rare.”
They both laughed and agreed that their time in Human Resources and Customer Service was fruitful. Not only did it help them understand these areas of the company better, it also allowed them to get to know the people they would interact with later on, no matter where they ended up. The Career Path Program was beneficial for the company because it served a cross-training and team-building function that improved communication and relationships over the long term.
“As much as I like Finance, I realize that many other areas of the company rely on numbers,” Liam concluded. “There’s always a place for the math guy. Even Operations needs performance analysts; it’s not money, but it’s numbers. Different units of measurement, both essential.”
“The flip side of that is people,” Jasmine said. “You can’t build a successful business without forming good relationships along the way. That’s what I like best.”
“I remember they gave us this chart of career pathways my first day at the company, it was like a grid. I’d always thought of a career track as a pre-determined, ascending tightrope.”
“I remember that! It was like a video game. You could move in any direction, across many functional areas. It’s like once you get hired, they trust you to be good at whatever you choose to do.”
“Yeah,” Liam said. “Like they hired you as an individual, not because you fit in a box.”