The Sandbox
* Names changed. Leadership challenges.
Virginia Tech 2014: I reach for my phone to call the ROTC section chief about our pilot training nominations. A sharp reminder of my resolution for this new assignment holds me back:
Never call or email if the answer is less than a one-minute walk away.
The orderly room is only twenty steps from my desk—less than ten seconds if I don’t stop and talk to Connie, our office manager. But I’m only two months into this command, and Connie has twenty years of institutional knowledge under a half-dozen different job titles. Only a fool would walk past that kind of power without saying “Hello.”
Ten minutes later, I stroll into the orderly room. Technical Sergeant Faricy’s chair is empty.
Staff Sergeant Angelo leans out of her cubicle. “He’s running behind this morning, Sir. Can I help you with anything?”
“I’m looking for an update on the pilot training packages? They’re due today. Just want to make sure we’re good to go.”
“Sorry, Sir. TSgt Faricy is the only one with access to the system for the submittal.”
“Any idea when he’ll get here? Is he like ‘I overslept’ running behind, or ‘I’m having child care issues’ running behind?”
SSgt Angelo calls to the back of the room, “Senior Airman Castle, did you talk to TSgt Faricy this morning?”
A blonde head pokes out from the back cubicle, eyes widening as she spots me. She ducks back to her desk and calls out, “He didn’t say, Ma’am.”
“Have him come see me when he gets in. Thanks.” I smile at SSgt Angelo even though I’m pissed. My predecessor’s parting tip for me was that when I needed something done right, I should go to SSgt Angelo, so she’s the last one I want to sense my frustration. The colonel I replaced also warned me that TSgt Faricy was an okay performer. “Okay” is military speak for “he sucks.” Nothing about the way this morning is shaping up so far should surprise me.
In a unit this small, we don’t have enough thrust to carry any dead weight. I’m familiar with this kind of challenge. Eight years ago, I moved from commanding an eight-thousand-person base in Kuwait to supervising a team of four officers and non-commissioned officers at the US Embassy in Beijing, China. Small teams usually result in messy office dynamics. I’m hoping to beat the odds on this assignment—my final four years of a thirty-year career—and avoid the office drama. Perhaps a little coaching, encouragement, and counseling on my part with TSgt Faricy will help shift those odds in my favor.