At 22, I dove headfirst into corporate life at a large defense contractor making satellites. Guided by Jim, a veteran colleague, I worked on a team that tackled satellite nuclear survivability — a highly specialized and novel expertise in the industry.
However, three months in, my first test arrived. Charlie, my manager, asked me to learn some specialized modeling techniques from Bill. So I bounded over like an eager puppy dog.
“Charlie wants you to teach me how you do your modeling so I can help.”
[OK, in hindsight, I can see the error in my approach]
Bill paused, turned around slowly, peered over his reading glasses and said, “Get the hell out of here.”
Smacked right in the face. At first, I wasn’t sure he was serious.
“Um…um….what?”
“Get out of here. This is what I do. It’s my job. If I teach you what I do, then they’ll just lay me off. Tell Charlie, ‘no way.'”
Confused and dejected, I turned to Jim. He consoled me, saying we could master the task ourselves. Sure enough, with Jim’s help, I quickly picked up the guarded techniques.
A year later, I was flourishing, Jim had been promoted, and Bill was laid off. His fear had turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Bill’s refusal stung, but Jim’s willingness to guide me ignited my passion. I can still feel that terrible feeling as Bill refused me.
The incident underscored the importance of adaptability, mentorship, collaboration, and continuous learning. It taught me that being a valuable team member isn’t only about expertise—it’s also about caring for your colleagues.
