Minnesotans love to throw around the state's unofficial slogan "Minnesota Nice."
When I first moved to Minnesota, I thought, "It's true, they really are nice here!" And, on the surface, they are nice. They are polite, smile and nod in passing or talk to you about the weather or your car when at the gas pump. They'll hold doors open and make small talk when waiting in line. When you have something in common, they'll chat with you about that - for instance, when my daughter was in preschool, the other moms and I would talk about our kids, the school and even schedule play dates for our kids. Coworkers will invite you to lunch or happy hour and talk about work, partners, kids and so on. There's no shortage of pleasant, daily interactions available with Minnesotans. But I found it impossible to develop more meaningful relationships with these Minnesotans - the other moms, my coworkers. Even people with whom I had so much in common. I'd try inviting them lunch outside of work - say, on the weekend. Or to events like craft shows, or to see a movie. Their responses were alike - they begged off, other commitments, something with family, and so on. But thanked me for thinking of them. This happened so frequently - my inability to connect with all these nice people - that I began to suspect there was something about me that was not likable. What was I doing wrong? Was it my breath? But then I talked to a few other transplants to Minnesota and found out they had similar experiences. Even after years living in Minnesota, they had a huge circle of acquaintances but no close friends yet. So, it wasn't just me! I've finally made some friends here and it only took twenty years. Minnesotans are nice - they are pleasant, agreeable. But when it comes to more meaningful relationships and friendships, they truly are a standoffish bunch.
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I work full time. It's my day job and when I'm not working, like everyone else, I must tend to everyday matters - laundry, grocery shopping, paying bills, making meals and so on.
My second job is writing. I squeeze that in whenever I can and that time is certainly at a premium. My third job is making sure other people do their jobs. No, I don't go up to people working their positions and supervise. But I do have to make sure that people aren't doing their jobs incorrectly in a way that will affect me or my family. This past Sunday we went to the grocery store and I monitored the items being scanned by the cashier. I caught her ringing up two bags of softener salt as an incorrect brand, which would have cost us $1.35 more per bag. She rang up a white onion as jicama, which costs .09 cents more. And after we unloaded our groceries into the car, we realized she rang up one pineapple as 11. ELEVEN. At $2.98 a pineapple. I had to go back into the store, spend 15 minutes waiting at guest services and then I had to show the rep behind the desk how to scan the barcode on the receipt on my phone to process my credit. The only payment I receive for this third job is saving us all the money we'd have lost on that single grocery trip. If I hadn't done this third job, we would have lost $32.50. I shudder to think how much money we've lost over the years we didn't take time to monitor our purchases as they were being scanned. Or when we didn't do a quick count of our change to make sure it was correct. People make mistakes, it's true. I know, I've made plenty of my own. But it's disheartening to know that these mistakes sometimes cost others money and time. I was once in a meeting where a manager presented us with his suggestions for improving some processes. After he was done, he asked for our thoughts. A coworker began explaining how his suggestions were flawed, where the holes were and what the repercussions might be.
Instead of taking consideration of what she said, the manager exploded. He said childish things to my coworker, none of which applied to the processes we were examining. We all knew his processes were flawed and he was wrong. And he knew it, too. But in that moment, when the ideas he thought were flawless were proven weak, he took it personally and handled it poorly. I was once in my coworker's shoes. It was also in a meeting with a manager. The manager wanted our team to come in to work fifteen minutes early to attend a special meeting. But instead of having us clock in when we arrived, he said we could take a longer lunch. When I pointed out this was illegal, because he was trying to avoid paying us any overtime, his face turned red and he shouted at me until I was nearly in tears. But he then said we should punch in when we arrived for the meeting. He knew he was wrong, he didn't like it. And he didn't like being called out on it. Both these situations happened at work and in front of subordinates. Perhaps that is why each manager reacted childishly. It's embarrassing to be wrong, to have our errors pointed out to us. I don't like making mistakes. Who does? But I also would prefer to have things done correctly, preventing future problems. I've developed the mindset to learn from my mistakes. Not make those errors again. I do get a flash of anger when someone points out my mistakes. For a minute, it is aimed at that person, but only in my mind. I've trained myself to automatically thank that person for letting me know. I mull it over, realize they were right and understand the anger I'm feeling is really at myself. Then I take steps to fix it and hopefully never make it again. I'm human, I remind myself. Humans make mistakes. A good human uses their mistakes as learning tools. |
About Sally FarleyI'm a typical, hardworking Midwesterner, enduring (and sometimes participating in) the passive-aggressive complexities of life in Minnesota. ArchivesLinksAsk a Manager
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