Middle Management & AOCs

Over the course of the last month I have had two distinct conversations with two very different people about the same topic:  AOCs.

For those not well-versed in United States Air Force Academy lingo, an AOC (Air Officer Commanding) is usually a major in charge of a squadron of about 100 cadets.  The role is designed to help guide and mentor officer candidates during their four years at school as well as prepare them to become leaders in the "real Air Force".

Now I think the primary reason that I had these two discussions is that a lot of grads either had great AOCs or terrible AOCs.  I personally had a terrible experience since my particular AOC saw the position as a stepping stone toward bigger and better management positions.  He also seemed to take his responsibilities lightly and operate within a weird set of double standards.

Sadly, when I queried "AOC USAFA" on Google the following video appeared:

Video clip:  Seriously?!

You don't have to watch the whole thing, but there is a telling segment right around the two-minute mark where the interviewee explains that he saw the AOC position as a means to get a master's degree.  I mean never mind the cadets or anything.

Looking back, this would be a trend that I would encounter with most mid-level managers during my active duty career.  Not all, but most majors and captains seem to forget the importance of their current job because they have their eye on the prize (i.e. school slots, commander jobs, etc.).

I was reminded of these conversations yesterday when I saw an article re-posted by my sister that discussed force shaping in the Army.  The piece obviously wanted to bring to light the fact that folks are being kicked out of the military while deployed, but I think the bigger issue is the focus on quantity over quality.

The United States and DOD have experienced countless personnel surges and drawdowns since WWII.  Each time we get too big we cut our most precious resource (human capital) to the bone.  The decisions seem to hinge almost entirely on sheer numbers and dollar figures rather than the type of leader in question as well as the investment made in that individual to date.  My overarching fear, however, is that we have gone a little too far during this particular set of cuts due to an amplified focus on the economy.

DOD:  Between a rock and a hard place?

Most services offered a severance package or payout to junior military officers with, what I believe to be, the unintended consequence of forcing out the best and brightest leaders.  I truly think that those who no longer felt appreciated by their bosses and needed more intrinsic incentives to stick around made the easy choice and left.  Thus, the hollowing of the force is taking place in preciously the area that needs leadership the most:  the middle.

While HBR frequently vacillates on whether middle management is obsolete or crucial, I found their latest research rather compelling.  Specifically, the writers argue that those caught between higher-ups and employees are forced to find a creative way to solve problems, which makes them critical to both the top and bottom line.  This squeeze produces an experienced manager that is often taken for granted or not allowed to continue in this same line of work.

Hmmm, sounds familiar.

I wish I could end this post on a more positive note, but I think that the DOD is on the cusp of a very long and sustained middle management drought that will require years to reverse.

But hopefully I am wrong.

Better

I feel better.

Not in a permanent way, but I think this whole pseudo-sabbatical is going to do me good in the long run.  I say pseudo, but maybe sham or quasi or artificial or fake or bogus is a better qualifier for the past 58 days.

Photo:  Maybe I just needed a trial run so that I can actually enjoy my next semi-retirement!

I mean I really didn't go off the deep end and backpack Europe or take a trip to Antarctica or ride the Vodka Train (or any train with alcohol) or visit Ukraine or anything I thought I wanted to do.  

I did learn that I like a certain amount of financial stability and knowing that my paychecks were going to stop on 1 September really prevented me from going crazy.  And this is coming from someone who doesn't have to worry about money (i.e. no sick kids or egregious debts or loans), but it's funny how it just creeps into every decision you have to make and I mean every decision.  

I guess I did the best I could given all the change and instability I encountered over the past six months, but now with less than 30 days until I potentially start another career I can't help but realize I kind of worried through the last two months.

Don't get me wrong.  I still had a great time traveling to Minnesota and Las Vegas and catching up with friends and making new friends and hiking the national parks and writing and reading and researching and moving to a different state.  Everything was just punctuated with anxiety and worry over interviews and job applications.

And although I feel better and believe that at least 50% of each day is good, I still want to get better.  I certainly don't want to continue to blame the past for my attitude problems or my inability to move forward or let go and have fun during the next month and beyond.  We all know those people that blame someone or something for their unhappiness and their resentment builds up until they condemn themselves to misery for ever and ever.  And that was certainly me.  Trapped.

Screenshot:  Extreme example of blaming issues on the past, but you get my point.

I guess I want to be done blaming the Air Force and my job for my misery and my failures and shortcomings.  It's funny, but my former dreams and I just kind of grew apart and I see that as okay now and that I didn't quit.  I understand it for what it was.

Even funnier is I feel so old talking to folks around here and telling them my stories.  Some say I am an old soul or that I have already lived a full life, but it feels just the opposite to me.

Article:  I can totally relate LOL

So I guess going forward I want to be a little less reflective and even less introspective in order to start figuring out what I really want to get out of this break.  I'll keep the stories flowing, but I want to lose the caustic edge and bitterness in favor of some more humor.

Cheers!

We Left the Lights On: NAMBLA

Just one quick story to lighten the mood of this rather weepy blog.

So there I was harassing the production supervisor out on the flight line trying to track down COPIOUS amounts of information for the evening meeting.  In hindsight, this entire sequence of events, repeated daily, is laughable because regardless of how much information I had going into the briefing, I was going to get beat up and screamed at and chewed out.  Uh, the waste!

But there I was.  Interrupting operations.  Asking questions.  Being driven to problematic aircraft.  Bothering technicians.

I still have no idea why or how the supervisors were all so patient with me and my little clipboard, but they were.  Bless their hearts.

Only one time did they attempt to play a joke on me and I think they only stopped it from going forward because I took the bait hook, line, and sinker.

Photo:  Yes, yes I did.

One evening, during my usual Q&A in the flight line truck, the production supervisor explains that we had a very, very bad day.  

"We had some issues," he says,"and we're out a NAMBLA adaptor."

Oh Christ, I think.  Then I ask the inevitable, "What's a NAMBLA adaptor?  Can we go look at one on an aircraft?"

He goes on, "It's a key component and probably won't come in for weeks.  We might even lose the alert commitment again."

OH MAN AND I HAVE TO BRIEF THIS!?  OH SHIT...OH SHIT...OH SHIT!!!

But just before I hit full-on panic mode he starts laughing and explains that NAMBLA stands for North American Man-Boy Love Association.  It's all a joke.

Video clip:  NAMBLA

While I should've taken the following bet to use "NAMBLA adaptor" during the brief (for a $20 payout), I was just thankful that I had good leaders around me willing to make jokes (potentially at my expense) in order to help me see the bigger picture.

Cheers!

We Left the Lights On: The Tormentor

Trust me when I say that I am as sick and tired as everyone else when it comes to hearing about the latest national epidemic:  bullying.

I guess I simply accepted the so-called bullying that I experienced in grade school, middle school, and high school as a right of passage.  It built character or increased my resilience or something.

Photo:  Ah, my favorite character-building pastimes:  bullying and shoveling snow.

I am sure that my parents struggled watching me make friends that would ultimately turn into monsters and mean girls (seriously), but I am better for it in hindsight.

Video clip:  They seriously wouldn't have made this movie if it wasn't true...

High school really wasn't that bad and maybe I was even a bully at times, but only a goofball or nerdy one.

Video clip:  I'd stuff you in your lock-ER for not doing your homework!

I encountered some tough times at the Academy, but never felt bullied or put down or singled out for unfair treatment.  By the time I graduated I assumed I was in the clear.  Professional workforce here I come!

Things were generally fine until I went to Bagram.  I mean I was laughed at in meetings back at Lakenheath, but I was a second lieutenant and I was an idiot.  Briefings and taskers were certainly a right of passage and I figured that as long as I kept doing my best I would eventually dig myself out of that hole.  I mean the military really can't fire you and if you don't get a DUI or stop breathing, then you will eventually make rank (c.f. Captain Cockeyes) so I at least had that option going for me.

But in Bagram I couldn't do anything right.

I'll admit that I bombed my first briefing, but the rash of required pre-briefs to the pre-briefs to the actual briefings that I had to do were pure torture.  This was only required of me (no other lieutenants or captains) by the squadron commander, Major Tormentor.  They were one-on-one and were absolute misery with written and spoken reports required to prove I was doing as I was told.

I was cussed at and told I was stupid and incompetent and pathetic, but when I finally wised up and brought the Chief along none of this ever took place.  The major became affable and would even invite us to midnight chow and let us borrow his truck if necessary.

I felt like a fake and a whiner.  Every instance of torment that I relayed to the leadership team around me seemed implausible.  Who would believe a dumb second lieutenant over a major anyway?

There was one time when an individual had a seizure along the path between the buildings and I responded since I saw everything happen.  When the major showed up he told me to get lost.  Seriously.  I had gotten someone to call the medic and rolled the guy on his side and I was told to leave.  I didn't because I am obstinate, but COME ON!

Article:  I sucked; I'll admit that much.

Major Tormentor eventually showed his true colors one night barging into the unit and screaming and screaming and then trying to slam the door.  He actually tried to slam the door twice.  I had no idea what he tried to say and only remember laughing hysterically with the senior after he stormed out of the building without the sound effect of a door slamming shut.

He remained generally prickly and, besides giving some really terrible roll calls (to his own discredit), proved to be no worse than a bad bout of gas:  uncomfortable, but temporary.

Fortunately, despite all the crap leaders I had the distinct pleasure of working for, he remains only one of two that I might still hit with my car given the chance.  So that's a win for the Air Force!

It would be another two years until I met my next bully and entered a new dimension of leadership hell, but that story will have to wait since I am not quite done with Bagram yet.

NOTE:  That vehicular manslaughter threat is not real; it is just for storytelling purposes!

(Before) We Left the Lights On

"VEGASSS!"

"VEGASSS!"

"VEGASSS!"

Oh, how lucky was I to get to go TDY to Nellis AFB in Las Vegas, NV only two months after The Hangover hit theaters in the United Kingdom?

Video clip:  Oh, Alan...

So lucky.

Lucky enough to listen to Alan quotes all the way from RAF Lakenheath to London's Heathrow Airport (2.5 hours).  

Lucky enough to have United Airlines play The Hangover on the loop from London to Chicago (8 hours).  

Lucky enough not to lose anyone in Chicago since everyone needed a smoke break and, seeing as how no one could stand each other at that point, scattered like cats throughout one of the largest and most confusing airports in the United States (1 hour).  

Lucky enough not to have any homicides on the final leg from Chicago to Las Vegas since no one wanted to be crammed into tiny seats for another flight (3.5 hours).  

Lucky enough to have a Chief ready and waiting for us at the airport with a bus to the base (0.5 hours).

Then my luck ran out...

See, I didn't hate Captain Cockeyes prior to my transcontinental pilgrimage to the holy land of Las Vegas.  I actually tried to learn from him during the exercise we held just prior to our TDY (because who doesn't exercise immediately before going TDY?!).  But there were warning signs.  And no matter how hard we tried to ignore them, the writing was on the wall.

For example, his insistence on critiquing the Chief's (rock-solid) plan.  Or his desire to travel free of the main body.  His ability to steer clear of all responsibility upon arrival (several days later than the rest of us I might add).  

And then there was his general disposition and mannerisms:  Mouth breathing.  Laughy.  Head bobbing (more on that in Afghan).  Pirouettes.  Parade rest walking.  Incessantly finger-combing his hair.  Living out of his car.  Jealousy.  Lip smacking.

Video clip:  Seriously...on the flight line where real men work.

I was left even more dumbfounded by his decision-making processes (or lack thereof), his inability to brief without excruciatingly detailed notes, and the way he addressed the guys.  Oh, that last one still kills me.

See, people lose things and break stuff in aircraft maintenance.  It happens and if it's egregious or with ill intent you deal with it through paperwork or pay and grade reductions.  Know, however, that the worst possible thing you can do if you screw up is hide it or create an environment where people feel the need to hide it.  That's when jets crash and people die.  

As with all things, however, there is a balance.  You don't want to hammer folks for certain infractions, since this will result in sweeping things under the rug, which increases the probability of major malfunctions in flight, but you also don't want to let everything slide since you can experience the same outcome (death and damage) through laissez-faire leadership practices.

While this was my going in approach to leadership, and remains the core of my beliefs to this day, I was beside myself when I watched Captain Cockeyes interact with the guys.

There was the instance of him reprimanding an individual in front of his aircraft and aircrew for mistakenly wearing his wedding band.  What chapped my ass was that I had told the individual to remove the jewelry with Captain Cockeyes right next to me and when I turned to walk away (with the situation under control and the individual feeling remorseful) Captain Cockeyes got in his face and let him know just what a failure he was.  Necessary?  I didn't think so.

This situation upset me even more when Captain Cockeyes lost his own wedding band out on the flight line a few days later and drove a temporary stop to operations while we looked for his jewelry.

Just as such minor incidents began to reveal the Captain's management woes we destroyed a multi-million dollar aircraft engine.  This major accident quickly brought to light the Captain's true character and motivations for all to dread heading into a four-month long deployment.

But back to the incident.

Captain Cockeyes put me in charge of the investigation (AKA impoundment) and we discovered that the technician missed some key steps.  Specifically, he failed to remove the protective covers forward of the intake, which was how one hard plastic protector came to destroy the motor.  

The incident occurred at the end of a long shift and the technician didn't have a history of discipline or poor behavior.  In fact, he was in the process of applying for a recruiter job.  He was going to be the face of the USAF.

I pled my case for some leniency, but he still had to pay 1% of the total damage.  Ok, fair.

Then Captain Cockeyes decided to commit the gravest of leadership sins:  punishing the individual in public.

Specifically, he took the opportunity to lay claim that the engine incident caused unnecessary duress to the unit and myself since we had to devote time and energy and effort to the investigation.  He did this during a mass roll call and went on to state the overall damage costs and infractions that led to the incident.

Now I am all for incident and QA cross-tell, but not in a way that creates an environment where individuals are afraid to admit a wrongdoing since they might be chastised in front of their subordinates and peers.

So when the Captain turned the roll call over to me I felt I had no choice but to speak my mind and do exactly what he had done.

I'll never remember my exact words, but I think they suggested that I was fine with the time and effort I devoted to the investigation because no one was killed or maimed or injured.  Something like that anyway.

In hindsight, I now see this incident as the beginning of my undoing.  I broke my own rule and undermined the Captain in public because I felt I had no other recourse.  I continued to be somewhat disrespectful and immature in my dealings with him all while simultaneously building rapport with the guys.

To wit, I do not regret what I said so much as the door that it reopened.  I had always found myself on the edge of being disrespectful (I can think back to a lot of examples in high school) and was even called a rebel without a cause before my Academy days.  This incident simply allowed the monster to come back out just in time for me to encounter Major Tormentor.

That's almost precisely when I realized I was really out of luck.  Like, really.  Thanks Vegas.

NOTE:  Vegas was definitely a defining experience for me in more ways than the aforementioned passage suggests.  I am, in hindsight, irritated with how I handled the situation, but I have to remember that I was still a lieutenant with 14 months of operational experience.  I was very green and very reliant on my instincts, which I still think serve me well.

At the end of the TDY I was pleasantly surprised to receive an amazing gift from the guys that I will forever covet.  The best part of the gift, however, took place on the ride back to lodging when, one-on-one with Captain Cockeyes, he said to me, "I would've gotten something like that, but I had to be the bad guy."

And here I thought I'd been tough on guy.  NOPE!

Forever indebted to the 494th.

I promise...

...that my next post will be much lighter and more humorous than the following excerpt; I just feel the need to tackle some dark uglies right now and I ask that you bear with me for a moment.


Rather, I feel compelled to expound upon some of the internal conflict I continue to feel as a result of my decision to leave the Active Duty Air Force.


The frustration.  The anxiety.  The irritation (with myself and others).  The anger.


A little background:  I just got back from a job interview in Phoenix for a position with a large, successful transportation company.  In between the screenings, however, I was hounded by a recruiter from Colorado with another job opportunity who needed additional information from me.  This all took place while I simultaneously thought about the one job offer (in sales) that I need to decline, the two-day interview I need to prep for next week, and another follow-up discussion I need to have (with a different company) this Friday.  Oh, yea, and I have an interview on Saturday.


I know I have no one to blame except myself and I know these are good problems to have.


Or are they?

Screenshot:  I am troubled by the truth of this quote...

That quote and passage from The Black Swan continues to haunt me despite the fact that I read that book months ago.


The reason being is that I elected to leave the Air Force primarily to escape societal expectations and to forge my own path whether that was through running or traveling or painting or volunteering or fishing or a combination thereof.


All I know now is that I got sucked right back into what I wanted to avoid:  knowing my next 20 years.


My bravery lasted all of 51 days.


Bravo, Kate, bravo.


I guess I can't be too hard on myself though.  I did make the leap right?  I knew I would never love what I was about to do (transition away from being around the guys and breaking shit to sitting behind a desk and worrying about how to get through the next decade as a perpetual kiss ass) and so I jumped.

 

Screenshot:  Cross-blog pollination...or blog cross-pollination...whatever.

But now what?

First, I guess I have to keep fighting the good fight.  I have a lot of folks in my corner that are going to keep me straight and tell me not to get a job right away (HT to my dad's timely emails today amidst the panic).

Second, I think I keep writing.  Lame, I know, but it's like Kamal Ravikant recently said, 

"I understand now why the great [writers] become alcoholics and kill themselves 'cause you have to go into your mind and into your heart and emotions and pull out – go through everything, stuff that most of us spend our lives avoiding.  So you have to write – for a great writer, to be a great writer or artist, you really have to go into yourself.  And we spend our entire lives running away from ourselves.  You have to go through the gunk."

Gunk exploration and dissection sound about right (without the whole suicide thing in Ketchum, ID or ripping off my ear or something).

Oh, this is probably a good place to state the obvious:  I AM NOT SUICIDAL!  KATE LOVES KATE TOO MUCH TO HURT KATE.

 

Video clip:  HT to Bob Ryan during the T.O. suicide scare of 2006.

Sticking with the literary vein though, maybe those artists and writers were on to something.

Screenshot:  We'll go with Melville's take on life (versus Hemingway's) for the moment.

All I can hope for is that this tortured self-exploration results in some sort of coherent career strategy and the appropriate destruction of a life half-lived.

We Left the Lights On: Well, on paper...

So how did we, as a unit, inherit Captain Cockeyes?

Video clip:  I wasn't talking to you Deeds, I was talking to that squirrel (mountain goat) over there!

I blamed at lot of it on the internal promotion system of large institutions in my last post since it is far easier to pass someone up the chain rather than deal with them outright (even though that's the most humane thing to do for both the individual as well as the organization).  We allow bad leaders to remain in positions of authority and jeopardize the careers of those in their charge because we fear conflict.  We avoid sitting someone down and saying, "You just don't have what it takes and probably never will, so try to find something more suitable to your skillset."

Photo:  This works too...

Now there is a kindler, gentler way to say all that, but at the end of the day we just need to stop wasting everyone's time and energy and fire the ineffective (and dangerous) leader.  Kick him out!  You're doing him a favor and letting everyone move on with their lives (HT to Jim Collins)!

Ok, now that we got the high-level reasons out of the way, how did we literally get stuck with someone so oblivious to his own behavior that he was shitcanned from his job in Afghanistan and sent all the way back to England on the taxpayer dime?

Simple:  

Four months before our deployment there was a series of opaque incidents that forced the (unfair and untimely) removal of our current supervisor, Captain Awesome.  Not only did Captain Awesome have a wealth of experience and knowledge, but he actually mentored me on how to be a decent, respectable maintenance officer.  

Like woah!  I know?  Crazy!  Right?

All I know is that there was a perception held by one individual, LtCol Tri-too-hard, that there was something going on between Captain Awesome (male, married) and another Captain (female, single).  All unfounded, but Captain Awesome still had to leave the unit and go to timeout (the Wing AFSO21 office, because that's how much we value innovation in the Air Force...it's the support section for officers AKA the innovation ghetto).

This left us without an officer for both pre-deployment training in Las Vegas as well as the actual deployment across EMEA to Afghanistan.  LtCol Tri-too-hard and his flunkies, in their infinite wisdom, did not see this as a problem and decided to replace Captain Awesome with the most "qualified" individual for the task:  Captain Cockeyes.

Now I bring attention to the word qualified since it is a relative term.  The Air Force, like most bureaucratic corporations, largely applies this word to someone based on their records.  And so we come to live and die by the phrase, "Well, on paper he looked like the best (whatever) for the (very important, no fail mission)."

In the case of Captain Cockeyes, it was his graduation from AMMOS that sealed the deal.

NOTE:  I will never understand why we, as an institution, value this school so much since the only thing it seems to produce is a bunch of douche bags who only went there to further their own careers and never share any of the secret-squirrel knowledge they learned over the course of eight months.  My apologies to the two officers who don't fit this assessment, but you are the .0001%.  Sorry.

So just as perceptions got us into this mess (i.e. no leadership just weeks before a transcontinental pre-deployment to Vegas), perceptions of Captain Cockeye's competence got us mired even deeper into an already irreversible death spiral just before a real-world deployment.

Video clip:  SMH...

So what exactly happened in Vegas?  

Well my friends, you're in luck, because what happened in Vegas didn't exactly stay there...

Video clip:  ...herpes and bad leadership.