Accolades, Years Later
“All I see are a bunch of empty cups.” -Doc Hudson, as played by Paul Newman, Cars
Last week while cleaning I found an award that I won several years ago. It was in a box from an old workplace. When I found it, I had memories pop into my head about how much I had wanted to earn that award. I remembered waiting anxiously as the names were called and I distinctly remembered how amazing I felt when they said my name. After about ten seconds of remembering, I tossed the award into the garbage and moved on.
I didn’t have any connection to that award anymore. I didn’t feel any sentimental value in it. I felt nothing. To be honest, I did feel a little something. Embarrassment. Why, you ask? Because I felt stupid that the award was so important to me back then. I displayed it proudly on my desk for years. So did dozens of other people who had won the awards over the years. It was just a piece of plastic that said I was good at my job.
And for the record, I was very good at my job. As you may suspect, I was the same amount as good at my job before and after receiving that piece of plastic. The award didn’t change anything inside me. It gave me some short term pride of being recognized but it didn’t change my life in any way.
Despite what it may sound like, I am not trying to be down on awards and accolades. My problem with the award was how important it was to me to receive it. I remember obsessing about it in the time before I got it. I knew it was “nomination season” and I thought about it every day. Every time I helped someone, I wondered if they would end up being one of the people that would nominate me. It took up so much of my brain space.
The funny thing was that I was constantly doing nice things for people at work. I was always going above and beyond to help others. While the idea of getting nominated for the award didn’t drive me to do those good things, it did change my perspective. My reason for helping people was because I like helping people and making them feel good.
But wanting the award still created this tally system in the back of my brain where I tracked all of those good deeds, assuring myself that those things made me deserving of the award. Funny enough, they did indeed make me deserving of the award.
The issue was that they changed my focus. Altruism for the sake of altruism cannot exist when we are thinking about potential rewards for our actions. When we allow ourselves to think about being rewarded for our good deeds, it can change in a negative way. I can speak for myself and say that the first two years I was eligible for the award, I didn’t win it. That made me frustrated and only made me want it more.
Had I let those feelings go unchecked and allowed myself to continue on that path, I believe I may have slowly started to feel the need to be rewarded for all my good deeds. I could have become resentful when I didn’t and eventually find that I no longer wanted to help others without the promise of reward. If you think that sounds far-fetched, I can tell you that I have seen it happen first hand to people who were better than me.
So what do we do with this information?
I think the simplest first step in guarding ourselves against these ideas is to always be checking our motives. Ask yourself, why am I doing this? For instance, why am I offering to help others at work? Am I doing it because I want to lighten their load or because I want to stand out as a helper and be seen as someone who is fit for promotion? Of course, there is nothing wrong with wanting a promotion. If you want that, work hard, learn new skills, be great at your job. And yes, continue to help others, just be sure to check your motives on the last one.
I think the most poignant real life example that I can give is that of a leader who I observed for years as they worked with their teams. This leader worked their way up the ladder until finally finding themselves as a high level manager. This leader in the deepest places in their heart absolutely wanted their team to win and be successful. They wanted a team of amazing performers who worked really hard for the success of the whole team. What they didn’t want was superstars.
Why not? Great question!
Because superstars take away from that leader’s ability to shine in their own right. And that is a deal breaker for them because they have a need to constantly be proving that they are the best. Better than anyone else on their team.
So while their goals to help the team are very honorable, their motives are not. As I stated above, that makes altruism impossible. This is something that I think we all need to learn from, because I would guess that a long time ago, that leader wasn’t the way they are now. Instead, they likely started with some insecurities, which in turn became a need for approval. That grew into a need for accolades and success and it only got worse from there.
Which brings us to our last takeaway. Wherever you are in your career, if you have insecurities, it’s something that you should very much attempt to work on for yourself. It’s okay to be insecure, heck I am incredibly insecure, but I don’t let it force my actions into a negative direction.
That didn’t happen overnight. It took years of work to get myself away from needing those accolades and feeling more comfortable with myself and my abilities. I still struggle with it today. But if I can get to this point, I believe that you can as well.
-Jason