The People Who Remembered

I know i'm dating myself, but I started my professional career in the mid-’90s. I graduated from San Jose State University with a degree in television and film. But lucky for me, I’d picked up my arsenal of graphic design skills as a hobby, while working in my college bookstore. Someone had told me "You know, you could be making way better money at that, then this place." That was all i needed to hear. I was off to the races.

After gaining my chops in a few design firms, I landed my first corporate contract in 1996. Good Adobe PowerPoint and Persuasion presentation designers were hard to find, and I was brought in to revitalize some executive decks (gold star for those who remember Persuasion!). The job was supposed to last a week. It ended up going for four years.

I was in demand enough that I moved across the street from the company’s headquarters. They even piped a direct internet line from the company to my apartment, so I could be available whenever they needed me. I was putting in 60-plus hours most weeks. I wanted the experience, sure, but I also wanted to be useful. Executives needed decks fixed? Marketing teammates needed help with collateral? If I could solve the problem, I wanted to be involved.

That was how I thought about the work then. If someone needed me, I’d try to show up. The request didn’t have to be big, and the person didn’t have to be important (in the scope of the company).

By 2001, the dot-com bubble collapsed. Days after Sept. 11, I was laid off from a job I loved. I had always assumed that if one job ended, another would be right around the corner. This time, it would take a little bit longer.

I sent out dozens of resumes every day, including applications for jobs I wasn’t qualified for, just on the chance someone would call me in for an interview. When my unemployment benefits ran out after a year, I fell into a deep depression. I couldn’t see a way forward.

Then a friend from that first corporate job called. He was a VP of Marketing for a well-known game developer and needed event branding and a presentation template. The firm he’d hired had fumbled the project, and he had a week to get it done. I finished it in a couple of days.

He was so grateful, he took me to lunch and told me he’d try to find more work for me. A week later, he opened a marketing purchase order for my services.

Then another former peer, now a marketing director at a semiconductor company, reached out with a few months of work. Two more former colleagues and managers followed. Their projects arrived at different times, filling gaps and helping me pay down debt, rent, and bills.

These were people I had worked alongside years earlier. At the time, some were peers and some were lower-level managers. I helped back then because the work mattered to them, and I could make their situations easier.

I can only guess that first friend told others I was available. I know they remembered how I worked and that I’d made time for them when I could. In the stretch when I needed help the most, they made time for me.

The work and the creative part of my life were unusually close together. I loved making things, and I loved being the person who could help a team get something over the finish line. I did it because that was the kind of colleague I wanted to be. Years later, when I was in trouble, those relationships gave me a way back to normalcy.

I love my current job for some of the same reasons. My team takes pride in being of service, and management reinforces that. The people around me know the work is better when we help each other.

You may not know what a colleague is carrying, or how close they are to losing their footing. If you can offer a little time, a thoughtful introduction, or a push in the right direction, do it. A small act can help you stay afloat when you most need it..