When you are laid off or involuntarily separated

One year ago today, I took the shuttle from a White Plains, NY hotel to the headquarters office of the health charity where I worked -- day one of a four-day road trip, away from my Emeryville, California office. I walked into my boss' office at 8:30 a.m. to discuss an upcoming planning retreat.

By 8:45 a.m., I was no longer employed. I was unceremoniously escorted to my remote office. I turned over the laptop, cellphone, keys, credit card, and ID badge. I was closely watched as I packed a few personal possessions in a box. My briefcase was searched. And then I was escorted out of the building, returned to the hotel to checkout and pick up my luggage, and then was driven to the airport and put on a plane back home.

In retrospect, I could have (should have) seen it coming. But it came as a complete and utter shock. One moment, employed. The next, unemployed. I had been continuously employed for 28 years. And in the blink of an eye, I had no idea how I would earn a livelihood. Worse, I was totally unprepared for a transition.

Here's some advice to everyone who is employed about how to be prepared for the (unlikely?) event of an involuntary separation. Think of it like an earthquake preparedness kit ... you hope you never need to use it, but it gives you peace of mind when you've done these things:

• Keep your resume updated. (I hadn't touched mine since 2001, and it wasn't easy to reconstruct, especially since I could no longer refer to source documents.)


• Keep copies (safely, at home) of the following:

1. Your job description


2. Your performance evaluations (These usually contain valuable, high-level data about what you did. And, if you work for a firm that refuses to give references aside from confirming employment dates, these might be the only evidence you can show to someone that you were well thought of at the company before you were cut loose.)


3. A printed directory of your Outlook contacts. (How will you be able to reach out to your network of family, friends, professional and social connections if your only copy of their names, addresses, emails, and phone numbers are snatched from you moments after being told you no longer work there? Better yet, occassionally export your address book and import it elsewhere (a gmail or ymail account maintained solely for "just in case). And don't think that a service like LinkedIn serves this purpose. It doesn't. Without my Outlook and cellphone, I couldn't contact my housekeeper, my best friend from high school, the gardener, or even my mother-in-law!


4. At least a few work samples


5. Summary reports containing dashboard-level key metrics


6. User names and passwords for online accounts, plus URL's for blogs and online newsletters you subscribe to.

• I'm not saying you should stash away sensitive or confidential materials that rightfully belong to the company you might leave one day. For example, in the context of a charity, I'm not suggesting you keep detailed donor or accounting records. But when the day comes that you are escorted out involuntarily, you won't be given any opportunity to take anything with you. I'd been there for seven years. Suddenly, I couldn't produce a shred of documentation showing what I'd done. How much money was I responsible for raising? What results did I produce? Were 2007 results an improvement over 2006? And was 2008 better than 2007? Can I demonstrate my ability to create products (training outlines, example handouts) or establish business processes (software documentation, manuals, or standard procedures)? Can I prove to someone that I possess writing skills (a brochure, a grant proposal, a fund-raising letter)?


• Finally, set some money aside for living expenses. Otherwise, you risk tumultuous consequences (perhaps selling your home, dramatically cutting back on lifestyle, raiding funds intended for retirement). Yeah. I know -- you're not really going to do that.

That's my advice to be prepared. It's what I suggest you do while you still have a job. It's practical.

None of this takes into account the emotional aftermath of being let go ... the anger, the dread, the tears, the blame and self-blame, the shaken confidence, the fear. I have no real advice on how to deal with that, other than to say, give yourself exactly one day to lay in bed with the covers pulled over your head. Feel as sorry for yourself as you want for 24 hours. Then, get up, dust yourself off, realize that the past is past - you used to work there, now you don't. Time now to look forward and move on. Start reaching out. Start working your network. Start looking for the next-right-thing.

Now, one year later, I recognize that leaving that job was a very good thing for me. I had to confront the realities of the compromises I'd been making, settling for a different set of circumstances than I'd bargained for. Believing it was better to persevere rather than give up, I probably stayed in the position too long. When I touch base with "the survivors," I realize (recall?) that it is not a happy place to work. The separation forced me to think through what I really aspired to, and how the rest of my career would go. I've created a new practice under the brand Peak Performance Philanthropy, and provide coaching, consultation and training to organizations, helping them to understand how to help people experience the joy of giving to their cause. Life is good. But the transition would have been ever-so-much easier if I'd known then what I know now. Keep a back-up of important high-level stuff -- just to be on the safe side.

100 Days Left In 2009

Yesterday, the autumnal equinox arrived. The Earth on its tilted axis was at the point where day and night were precisely the same length at the equator. In no time at all, it will be the winter solstice, the longest day of the year.

Between now and then, lots will happen. The passage of time through the seasons allows us to mark progress and take note of things that have changed. As autumn arrives, we're mostly in back-to-school mode, with thoughts of football and turning leaves. In December we'll be in the midst of holiday frenzy and the countdown toward a new year. The next three months, inevitably, is a busy time of the year.

Earlier this year, in January, you probably made some resolutions to yourself. Today, with just 100 days left in 2009, you might find yourself with unmet goals and unfulfilled promises.

Right now, you have the opportunity to close out the year like a winner. The question I'd ask is whether, 100 days from now, you will have accomplished what you wanted ... or if you'll just have been so "busy" that you'll wonder where the time went.

Every day, of course, is a moment of choice. But today, with 100 days left in 2009, is a highlighted moment of choice. My advice: Pick one mid-range target -- something significant that's important to you, a personal breakthrough that can be accomplished in 3 months.

Commit now to focusing on that outcome with discipline. Break it down to smaller pieces, bite-sized chunks you can work on day-by-day. Keep this target clearly in mind, and work on it regularly, each day if possible. Think of how you'll feel when the target is reached, the mission accomplished.

Today, you are facing an awesome opportunity to finish the year strong. If you stay motivated and focused, then your challenging target will be reached by December 21 (90 days from now) ... or at least by December 31, and you'll close out the year like a winner. Then, you can make another resolution for 2010.

Where to from here?

So, on the eve of a new year, I'm wrestling with trying to decide what's next. I am now retired from the March of Dimes Foundation -- it was a great seven year stint with an organization whose core cause, saving babies, I still care about.

But, post-holidays, I am faced with choices. Do I seek another salaried position? Do I make the leap and hang out my own shingle? Joel Preston - consultant? Joel Preston - coach? Joel Preston - trainer? Shall I stay in fund development, or stretch into another field, transitioning my skills in places I haven't tried yet?

All exciting. And a little scary, I confess. But stay tuned. Something tells me it will be a fun ride.