One winter, my brother and I visited the Islands of Adventure in Orlando, Florida. The Islands are home to Hogwarts, the Hulk, and very heavy sweating if you visit during the hell months of summer. (Note: don’t visit Florida in summer, please). I have never been one for thrill rides, but secretly love theme parks; all of the design, the suspended reality, and the downright magical moments, like seeing a storm trooper pop out of a cafe that is about to charge you $27 for a corn dog and coke just gets me. On this particular journey, my brother convinced me to ride the Hulk, the biggest and baddest coaster in the park. Here is Orlando Informer’s take on the Hulk:  “We rate The Incredible Hulk Coaster five out of five “Hulk smashes!” This ride features seven inversions, a 110-foot cobra roll, and a max speed of 67 mph, along with producing four G’s along the way (the same amount of G’s that a Top Fuel drag racer experiences during launch!). However, it is worth noting that most of the fear happens while you’re anticipating the ride, not when you’re actually on it.”

The tunnel of hell, replete with mist.

As you snake around the line, you visit Bruce Banner’s lab and see that things have gone extraordinarily wrong in this instance of the Marvel Universe: tv screens are flickering, walls have been torn apart, and something big, green, and out of control is lurking. As you wind and wind and wind, you begin to hear in the distance the “whoosh” of the coaster. It’s terrifying. I’m talking full stop, takes you back to being a child and wanting to cry terrifying. As we got closer and closer, I began to seek an exit route, a way to bail on this horrible experiment. Yet, sibling rivalry and a sense of being a big sister that is not SOFT kicked in and there we were, at the mouth of the coaster. This is where the designers of this ride flexed their genius. As a new coaster car flies in front of you, you look up and to the left into pitch black darkness, only to hear the car in front of you inch back, launch, and the screams explode onto the tracks and into the barrel roll you read about the night before. Before you know it, you are in that roll, screaming at your brother how much you hate him for taking you on this journey. And just like that, you’re exiting the car, wanting so badly to smile a lie at the next entrants that it will all be fine.

 

This week I had to lay off three people. I am a co-founder of a non-profit in the US and will be working there remotely during my time with the Futures Institute. I’ve taken part in layoffs before and while they are always horrible, this time was different. I often refer to my non-profit has my work child, something I helped create and nurture. I don’t have children of my own (of which don’t have four legs and fur) and never will, so this organization is one of my shots at legacy. The stated mission of our organization is to increase the college attendance and completion rates of graduates of Nashville, Tennessee’s public schools. Currently, only 27% of graduates earn any type of post-secondary credential or degree.  While the success of young adults has been my life’s work to date, the thing that keeps me up at night is creating a sustainable workplace for educators to educate. My theory is that if educators can stay in the game long term and live fulfilling lives, they will in turn better educate our young people and create better futures. Laying people off is a critical error in the code of creating sustainability. As I prepared to message to the team that jobs would be lost, I was reminded of my experience at the Hulk and the gut wrenching terror leading up to stepping foot on the coaster car. I wanted a way out, a better answer, and now, most of all, I wanted to give that smile that our workplace will be alright.

 

The EFI is pushing us to ask critical questions. My experience this week has left me pondering the following:

  • In an organization built on the bedrock of trust and transparency, can you recover workplace morale when both of these are shattered?
  • How do we convince ourselves and others that it’s okay not to be okay, but it’s also okay to be okay in a time of crisis?
  • Should layoffs in education and non-profits be handled differently than those in the private sector? What research has been completed on public sector layoffs and the “best” way to do this awful task?

 

 

("Hulk Coaster 2" by juliana_lop is licensed under CC BY 2.0.)

Rollercoasters and Layoffs / Pause. by is licensed under a