We just attended my 30th MIT Sloan Fellows reunion. It was wonderful reconnecting with this extraordinary group of individuals from all over the world. Made me think about how each of us were selected for this prestigious opportunity. I'm sure no one in my class shares my story. It's an ignominious story that is over 30 years in the telling and one that I have told to only a few... until now.
Our little family was living in a raised ranch in a rural farming community in central Maine. The boys were 6 and our daughter was 2. Connie was a very busy young mother and I was working shift work as a supervisor in a pulp and paper mill. My undergrad degree was in biology and environmental science and upon graduation had earned an undistinguished 2.5 accum. My meaning and purpose (being a breadwinner for my family) had not yet been revealed to me and I was just doing just enough academically to stay out of Vietnam, Anyway...
So when I found myself working nights in a pulp mill, I realized that I had made my own bed. In truth, there was much I enjoyed in my work. The men and women at the mill were hard working, hardy people who had resurrected an outdated and broken down 100 year old mill. With an infusion of cash from the new owners, a Finnish paper conglomerate and the New York Times, we did whatever it took to compete in a global paper market. That included me giving up my initial job as an environmental engineer and strapping on the shift supervisors job. But, after 5 years, I was pretty much over it and wanted to get out of the mill and progress in a career.
Much had changed in those 5 years. The leadership in the mill changed as the NYT brought in their hard nose, high pressure management team. The new CEO immediately fired a dozen of our little mill family and instilled fear throughout the organization. Management through fear and intimidation; effective, brutal, cutthroat.
In those years our family had grown. I had installed an above ground pool (nothing says success like an above ground pool...) and a deck. We heated the house with 10 cords of wood each winter all of which I cut and split from tree length. And there was the acre of lawn to mow in the summer. It was a good life, but we wanted more.
I applied for an MBA program at a local business college and was accepted provisionally upon successfully passing the GMAT exam. In those days we bought huge books of practice tests to prepare for the test and I used my night shifts to prepare with a vengeance. Remarkably my score was in the 96th percentile and I started taking one class a trimester in accounting, statistics, marketing and finance, all of which I Aced. What a difference a meaning and purpose makes. My company paid for my courses and took it as a sign of ambition to advance in the company. I really just wanted to work my way into a new job and away from this corporate bullshit.
One evening, after an exhausting 12 hour day shift, I drove my little rusted Mazda GLC to the top of the hill and was about to turn onto the 20 mile stretch of road to home when a silver Audi came screaming down the highway. I watched as the new CEO went flying by. He pissed me off. Several of the recently fired employees were friends. So I pulled out right behind him and stayed close for 10 miles to Norridgewock. Not too close, but close enough.
There was a traffic light in Norridgewock, just one, and, as fate would have it, it was red. I pulled up right behind the Big Boss and we waited for the light to change. Suddenly a head bobbed up in the passenger seat next to him. She was smoothing her hair back and I recognized her as the Bosses new administrative assistant. I looked back to the rear view mirror and into the eyes of the Big Boss as he peered back at me. OH GOD!
Why had his secretary been laying down in the front seat with her head in his lap for 10 miles? JESUS H. CHRIST ON THE CROSS! A panic gripped me. The light changed. He turned left and I turned right and pulled over into the Grange Hall parking lot, shaking. I was a dead man. How was I going to find another job. I wasn't ready for the next step. Not yet.
After 10 minutes, I turned around and drove slowly to the house. I told Connie what had happened and that I would surely be fired the next day. I tried to eat, but couldn't, and I tried unsuccessfully to sleep in order to get up at 4:00 AM to start another day. So the next morning, by the time I got on the production floor in the 100 degree heat and the deafening sound of machinery, I was a wreck.
It was around 6:30 when the door to the pulp mill flew open and the Big Boss walked in in his Gucci shoes and his Brooks Brother suit. He pulled off his Foster Grants and looked around the huge machine room floor until he spied me. I quaked in place as the Big Boss strode toward me.
"Good morning, Glen," he said cheerfully as he slapped me on the back.
"Morning Chief," I squeeked.
"I heard a good joke the other day. Have you heard the one about the executive and the secretary who..." and he proceeded to tell me a sordid story of a carnal nature. For the life of me I don't remember the joke, but at the end of the story I do remember laughing politely.
"That's a good one, Boss," I mumbled.
He slapped me on the back again, a little stronger this time. "Have a good day. Keep these machines rolling." he said as he winked at me and sauntered across the floor and out the door.
For the next six months I kept my mouth shut and waited for the other shoe to drop. Then one night shift, I got a call from my Superintendent. "The Boss wants to see you in his office at 6:00am sharp."
"About what?" I asked fearing the answer.
"Don't know. Who ever knows with him." he said.
I showered at shift change and put my dirty, sweaty, stock covered clothes back on and headed up to the executive offices. His secretary scowled at me and said "What are you looking at?"
"N-n-nothing," I stammered. She turned and marched away in a huff. I thought my worst fears were being realized.
The door to the CEO's office swung open and my Superintendent stuck his head out. He motioned me in. The Mill Manager and the Paper Mill Superintendent were also in the room. The CEO sat at in his leather office recliner with his feet on his polished desk.
He said "Some days are better than others... and this is a good day for you."
I was stunned. How could getting fired be a good day?
He continued "We are making investments in our most important asset, our people, and today we want to invest in you."
I swallowed and smiled.
"We want you to go back to school and complete your MBA. We have plans for you." he waxed.
I said, "Wow, you want me to go to Thomas College full time?"
He said "No, I want you to go to MIT as a Sloan Fellow. It's a very expensive, one year intensive. I want you to take your family and move to Boston. The Company will pay all expenses and provide you your salary and benefits."
I was incredulous. "MIT? Have you seem my undergrad records? I'm not MIT material."
He exploded "GOD DAMN IT! If I want you to attend MIT that's where you are going! I'll attend to that. Just get busy filing the applications. You will need to fly down for an interview. Now, congratulations and get to work." He walked me to the door, winked and slapped me on the back.
I drove home in a fog and found Connie in the kitchen. I explained that the Boss wanted me to go to MIT in Boston for a year. She said "Will you be coming home on the weekends?" I said "He wants the whole family to go." She said "NO WAY. I'm not taking my family away from our home. You can go by yourself!" It took a lot of talking but eventually she grudgingly agreed to accompany me. But that's another story.
At the interview at the Sloan School the Director sat at his desk across from me and reviewed my application. He said "Your undergraduate record...ahhh." I said," I know. It lacks luster. But I promise you, if you let me in, I will not fail." He said "Fair enough. And in light of your GMAT scores, I'm going to approve your application for review."
The next week the Boss had the NYT make a call and, undoubtedly, a contribution and just like that I was in. Like the Boss said, he always got what he wanted.
I'm not going to write about that year or the amazing people and experiences we had. It was life changing. And although I eventually left the company and the Big Boss passed away and his secretary left the company (after suing the company and me for a million dollars for sexual discrimination... another story) and the mill was shut down, I think back to that time at MIT fondly.
It taught me so many lessons, made us wonderful friends and gave me the tools and self confidence to reach my life goals. But, perhaps most importantly, it taught me to keep my mouth shut and to pay attention, to expect the unexpected and to appreciate the value of timing... even the timing of something as inane as a red traffic light.
Our little family was living in a raised ranch in a rural farming community in central Maine. The boys were 6 and our daughter was 2. Connie was a very busy young mother and I was working shift work as a supervisor in a pulp and paper mill. My undergrad degree was in biology and environmental science and upon graduation had earned an undistinguished 2.5 accum. My meaning and purpose (being a breadwinner for my family) had not yet been revealed to me and I was just doing just enough academically to stay out of Vietnam, Anyway...
So when I found myself working nights in a pulp mill, I realized that I had made my own bed. In truth, there was much I enjoyed in my work. The men and women at the mill were hard working, hardy people who had resurrected an outdated and broken down 100 year old mill. With an infusion of cash from the new owners, a Finnish paper conglomerate and the New York Times, we did whatever it took to compete in a global paper market. That included me giving up my initial job as an environmental engineer and strapping on the shift supervisors job. But, after 5 years, I was pretty much over it and wanted to get out of the mill and progress in a career.
Much had changed in those 5 years. The leadership in the mill changed as the NYT brought in their hard nose, high pressure management team. The new CEO immediately fired a dozen of our little mill family and instilled fear throughout the organization. Management through fear and intimidation; effective, brutal, cutthroat.
In those years our family had grown. I had installed an above ground pool (nothing says success like an above ground pool...) and a deck. We heated the house with 10 cords of wood each winter all of which I cut and split from tree length. And there was the acre of lawn to mow in the summer. It was a good life, but we wanted more.
I applied for an MBA program at a local business college and was accepted provisionally upon successfully passing the GMAT exam. In those days we bought huge books of practice tests to prepare for the test and I used my night shifts to prepare with a vengeance. Remarkably my score was in the 96th percentile and I started taking one class a trimester in accounting, statistics, marketing and finance, all of which I Aced. What a difference a meaning and purpose makes. My company paid for my courses and took it as a sign of ambition to advance in the company. I really just wanted to work my way into a new job and away from this corporate bullshit.
One evening, after an exhausting 12 hour day shift, I drove my little rusted Mazda GLC to the top of the hill and was about to turn onto the 20 mile stretch of road to home when a silver Audi came screaming down the highway. I watched as the new CEO went flying by. He pissed me off. Several of the recently fired employees were friends. So I pulled out right behind him and stayed close for 10 miles to Norridgewock. Not too close, but close enough.
There was a traffic light in Norridgewock, just one, and, as fate would have it, it was red. I pulled up right behind the Big Boss and we waited for the light to change. Suddenly a head bobbed up in the passenger seat next to him. She was smoothing her hair back and I recognized her as the Bosses new administrative assistant. I looked back to the rear view mirror and into the eyes of the Big Boss as he peered back at me. OH GOD!
Why had his secretary been laying down in the front seat with her head in his lap for 10 miles? JESUS H. CHRIST ON THE CROSS! A panic gripped me. The light changed. He turned left and I turned right and pulled over into the Grange Hall parking lot, shaking. I was a dead man. How was I going to find another job. I wasn't ready for the next step. Not yet.
After 10 minutes, I turned around and drove slowly to the house. I told Connie what had happened and that I would surely be fired the next day. I tried to eat, but couldn't, and I tried unsuccessfully to sleep in order to get up at 4:00 AM to start another day. So the next morning, by the time I got on the production floor in the 100 degree heat and the deafening sound of machinery, I was a wreck.
It was around 6:30 when the door to the pulp mill flew open and the Big Boss walked in in his Gucci shoes and his Brooks Brother suit. He pulled off his Foster Grants and looked around the huge machine room floor until he spied me. I quaked in place as the Big Boss strode toward me.
"Good morning, Glen," he said cheerfully as he slapped me on the back.
"Morning Chief," I squeeked.
"I heard a good joke the other day. Have you heard the one about the executive and the secretary who..." and he proceeded to tell me a sordid story of a carnal nature. For the life of me I don't remember the joke, but at the end of the story I do remember laughing politely.
"That's a good one, Boss," I mumbled.
He slapped me on the back again, a little stronger this time. "Have a good day. Keep these machines rolling." he said as he winked at me and sauntered across the floor and out the door.
For the next six months I kept my mouth shut and waited for the other shoe to drop. Then one night shift, I got a call from my Superintendent. "The Boss wants to see you in his office at 6:00am sharp."
"About what?" I asked fearing the answer.
"Don't know. Who ever knows with him." he said.
I showered at shift change and put my dirty, sweaty, stock covered clothes back on and headed up to the executive offices. His secretary scowled at me and said "What are you looking at?"
"N-n-nothing," I stammered. She turned and marched away in a huff. I thought my worst fears were being realized.
The door to the CEO's office swung open and my Superintendent stuck his head out. He motioned me in. The Mill Manager and the Paper Mill Superintendent were also in the room. The CEO sat at in his leather office recliner with his feet on his polished desk.
He said "Some days are better than others... and this is a good day for you."
I was stunned. How could getting fired be a good day?
He continued "We are making investments in our most important asset, our people, and today we want to invest in you."
I swallowed and smiled.
"We want you to go back to school and complete your MBA. We have plans for you." he waxed.
I said, "Wow, you want me to go to Thomas College full time?"
He said "No, I want you to go to MIT as a Sloan Fellow. It's a very expensive, one year intensive. I want you to take your family and move to Boston. The Company will pay all expenses and provide you your salary and benefits."
I was incredulous. "MIT? Have you seem my undergrad records? I'm not MIT material."
He exploded "GOD DAMN IT! If I want you to attend MIT that's where you are going! I'll attend to that. Just get busy filing the applications. You will need to fly down for an interview. Now, congratulations and get to work." He walked me to the door, winked and slapped me on the back.
I drove home in a fog and found Connie in the kitchen. I explained that the Boss wanted me to go to MIT in Boston for a year. She said "Will you be coming home on the weekends?" I said "He wants the whole family to go." She said "NO WAY. I'm not taking my family away from our home. You can go by yourself!" It took a lot of talking but eventually she grudgingly agreed to accompany me. But that's another story.
At the interview at the Sloan School the Director sat at his desk across from me and reviewed my application. He said "Your undergraduate record...ahhh." I said," I know. It lacks luster. But I promise you, if you let me in, I will not fail." He said "Fair enough. And in light of your GMAT scores, I'm going to approve your application for review."
The next week the Boss had the NYT make a call and, undoubtedly, a contribution and just like that I was in. Like the Boss said, he always got what he wanted.
I'm not going to write about that year or the amazing people and experiences we had. It was life changing. And although I eventually left the company and the Big Boss passed away and his secretary left the company (after suing the company and me for a million dollars for sexual discrimination... another story) and the mill was shut down, I think back to that time at MIT fondly.
It taught me so many lessons, made us wonderful friends and gave me the tools and self confidence to reach my life goals. But, perhaps most importantly, it taught me to keep my mouth shut and to pay attention, to expect the unexpected and to appreciate the value of timing... even the timing of something as inane as a red traffic light.
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