My Stint in the Civilian Sector

After I left active duty, I joined the Army National Guard as a part-time member. As such, I needed full-time employment. After six months of applying to over 20 jobs and getting just four interviews, I was made an offer with only a week left of paid terminal leave. I was so stressed to that point and elated to have something land, I took the job without much negotiating or second thoughts. The job was near where I wanted to live and in the business sector that interested me, albeit the salary was above half of what I had been making on active duty. It was a starting point and an accepted risk I took for the long-term benefit of my family. About two weeks later, I started the job with high hopes and excitement to start a new chapter. 

Everything began as I expected. I attended a very organized and welcoming orientation, met with my team, decorated the office, and generally got into a groove that I could see getting comfortable with. The staff had concerns and gripes that, perhaps, they were saving for the new manager to take a stab at fixing. I felt somewhat honored that my employees felt comfortable enough to bring issues to my attention in such a short time of my on-boarding. I really tried to listen, collect data, and develop possible fixes. I presented options to my higher ups. Their reaction was not what I was expecting.

“Yup, we know.”

“But, if we can just fix this part of the system, the doctors could see more patients and then increase revenue, and then…” my voice was met on deaf ears. Clearly, my inquiry was an old issue. I tried to give the feedback back to the team. Instead of being met with a can-do, resilient attitude that I had become accustomed to from my active duty days, the complaints were doubled-down on me. That was the beginning.

As I walked through the building I oversaw, I was amazed to observe how little work some people did, or did not do. Phones were out. Magazines were strewn about. Snacks everywhere. Sure, work got done, but the absolute minimal amount of work to not get fired. There was no standard for excellence and no incentive to go above and beyond. The handful of people who did go out of their way to do more than the minimum were sorely taken advantage of by their co-workers. 

I had to grapple with the challenge of going in and blowing up the current culture of the organization and risk losing what was already established. I tried to consult with my boss, but again, the feedback was a lot of head nodding and sighing. I fully understood that this was not the military and barking orders and mandating an attitude adjustment was not reality. I started to miss the high level of values, organization, and flexibility that I had taken advantage of while serving on active duty.

Four months after starting the job, I experienced something that completely caught me by surprise. The organization decided to do a RIF, a reduction in force. The loss in organizational revenue was said to be due to the inefficiencies and overhead costs related to the newer software that the staff was complaining about. I had my own theories for the loss revenue based on meetings I sat in, but that’s another story.

The RIF was fast and furious, unlike the military where there was also a RIF during my active duty time. The military had a support system in place and longer off-ramping. This organization notified employees on the chopping block with two weeks’ pay and said, “Thank you.” Hardly a sendoff. To make matters worse, some people inadvertently benefited from the RIF. I was one of them. Talk about survivor’s guilt.

Presented in an exciting manner (but really, it was an ultimatum), I was offered the chance to become a manager of four offices versus the two I had applied for. The new responsibility came with a small pay increase. The pay increase was a complete joke as I now had to travel over a hundred additional miles each week to oversee the additional offices, double my headaches with staff who would rather not be bothered, and completely waste a ridiculous amount of time I will never get back by having to travel for hours on end. 

I found myself asking the thin air, “Is this how civilian life really is?” The lack of true teamwork and foundational values were nowhere to be found, and now I had more people to take a larger sample size from. It wasn’t just my original offices. It was the entire organization. From the highest paid medical providers to the administrative assistants, over 75% of the staff that I worked with seemed to be out for themselves. Nurse practitioners were mad that the physician assistants made more than them even though the nurse practitioners had a higher-level college degree. The nurses were mad because the receptionists kept calling out sick and now, they had to intake patients. Per diem staff only wanted to work when they wanted to work which impacted the full-time, benefited staffs’ morale. The endless cycle of dissatisfaction gave me great pause. My new job search commenced shortly after I ordered a receptionist to take a urine test who I suspected of drinking on the job. She refused and quit on the spot.

I looked high and low for anything that was different from the organization I had just joined. To my complete and unexpected surprise, an opportunity perfectly fell into my lap. A full-time job with the military, at a base I had always wanted to be at, at a salary point I felt more accustomed to. The only caveat to the opportunity was that I would have to change branches. After all that I had been through and with the encouragement of another Army officer, I jumped at the chance to get back to a culture I felt was worthy of my time. Sure, I would have to learn a new language (the Air Force), but at least I could feel confident most of the people on the team would be rooted in a level of professionalism and resiliency I could count on. I was right.

When I met with my boss to give my notice, she said, “I’m not surprised. I saw this coming. Let me guess, better pay?”

I smiled, as I could feel her contempt for my decision. I didn’t want to waste my time explaining my real motives. “Yup.”

Always wanting to leave a place better than the way I found it, I asked for an exit interview with the VP of my department to address my culture concerns. I met with the guy and was, again, met with excuses, lip-service, and head nods. I tried.

I like to believe that not all organizational cultures are as meek and mild as my first adult civilian experience. However, from what I have gathered from other veteran friends, nothing can compare to the comradery, ride-or-die mentality that the military offers. I can say with great certainty that I would be honored to go to war with almost every military person I have served with, because I know the feeling would be mutual. I’m so grateful for the opportunity to sample the civilian world, even if it was not like everyone else’s experience. It has reframed my appreciation for the structure and mission the military has to offer, even if it is covered in layers of red tape and instability at times. It’s not perfect, but the motives and dedication of most folks damn near are.