It’s Not Easy Being Green

Today is my one-year work anniversary—for the 16th time. Admitting that I’ve had 16 jobs in the past 40 years startles me and, yes, makes me feel old. But it also gives me a rather distinct perspective on surviving the uncertain, uncomfortable feeling of greenness that comes with every new work opportunity.

It’s amazing how many people avoid changing jobs or careers because they fear exposing their green heartwood to a new environment, but green wood has the advantage of being flexible and hungry to absorb and grow. In spite of recent co-opting of the word “green” to mean all things eco-friendly, the idea of being green as in “new or inexperienced” has a long history and still resonates throughout our work vocabulary.

Green, or “grene” in Old English, comes from the same Germanic roots as “grow.” The word entered the language as a reference to new growth and by the 14th century was used to describe unripe or immature fruits or vegetables. By the 1600s, the word “green” was used by some to demean, as a sense of immaturity and inexperience could be implied as well as the added nuance of being gullible.

For other people, both in the past and now, this use of the word “green” reflects imagery connected with the myriad uses of freshly cut, unseasoned wood that still contains moisture in its cells. Crafters will tell you that, because of this moisture, green wood is much easier to cut and shape than very dry wood. In this sense, green is not a pejorative, as pliability is a benefit to surviving the stress and intensive instruction applied to novices in their early days on the job. As such, I like to think that I have been green in all the best ways.

My first days on a college campus as an employee rather than a student took me by surprise. I thought my experience working in several local government offices would be very transferable, but it turns out that higher education has a language of its own. Accreditation, credit transfer and state and federal policy acronyms like FERPA, STEM and IRB flew at me like airborne keys from Harry Potter’s world. At times, I was brave enough to ask for a definition and was always surprised when the user had to think hard to come up with the title the initials had truncated.

Since being green is a great excuse to act clueless, I have learned to take full advantage of the honeymoon period of the first several weeks or months on a new job to get my feet under me. Something akin to Maslow’s hierarchy kicks in as I focus on mastering job-essential lingo before moving on to higher tiers of new vocabulary.

Being new so many times hasn’t made the first days and months of a job any easier, but it has taught me how to be resilient and cope with that pit-in-my-stomach, panicky, green feeling that I will say or do the wrong thing. Here’s my approach to surviving the unease of being green in the workplace.

• It’s OK to look green. Being green can’t really be hidden, but it can be embraced. Owning “I’m new” can be very liberating and is an excellent excuse to explore, meet people and ask embarrassing questions about the best bathrooms. I remember answering the phone using my previous title, being late for a meeting because I was lost and being too tongue-tied to answer simple questions, all in the first week. Uncomfortable? Yes. Fatal? No.
• It’s OK to act green. Be patient with yourself and others. You are not a robot or a human vacuum, and you will not understand most of what you hear or experience on day one—or two or three. That’s not because you aren’t bright and capable, but because you lack context for the information. Set a reasonable onboarding time frame with your trainer—and yourself—and keep notes on issues that you don’t fully understand so you can circle back later. Emotional stress is real, and new job jitters are inevitable.

After completing my graduate degree, I moved my family 1,500 miles to take a stretch job as the director of a college dual-credit program. On my first day, I experienced a rare panic attack. I stood at the door of my new office and couldn’t make the key fit in the lock. Shaky hands, red face … I was close to tears and ready to bolt. A kind co-worker noticed my panic, opened the door for me and made a funny comment about temperamental locks. Her understanding smile was my lifeline, and my sense of comfort and confidence grew every day after.

• Greenness is temporary. Connect early with the people who want you to succeed. Take note of who was on your interview panel and begin building your social capital with that core group. After all, they picked you over other candidates, and they want to be right about their decision.
• You can find ways to feel less green. Increasing your sense of belonging and connection is a great antidote for the awful uncertainty of greenness. Immerse yourself in the culture and social language of your new workplace as quickly as possible. Join in singing “Happy Birthday” to someone you don’t know. If your company promotes community service, volunteer for a service project. You may get to know your new neighborhood and co-workers in a deeper, more tangible way.
• You probably aren’t the only one who’s green. Realizing that you aren’t alone in your greenness is a great source of solace and can help you build community. At my current job, I’ve enlarged my circle of belonging by engaging with other newbies at HR’s onboarding activities and signing up as a mentor for first-generation students. My best advice for overcoming “the greenies” is to watch for someone who is greener than you and be generous with your knowledge and encouragement.

Although none of my 16 starts have been forever jobs (is that even a thing anymore?), every one of them has been an opportunity to learn, grow and give back. I don’t fear starting over because, even though my career path winds and sometimes doubles back on itself, it has always led me to new vistas. My well-seasoned heartwood is resilient, and I am high enough up the mountain now to take the long view. As it turns out, the journey really is everything and the only failure is in not trying. Looking down my back trail, I have come to appreciate the life lessons learned in each of those first tentative steps into greenness.