My Thirty Foot Band-Aid

At 5:17 on March 25th,  I walked out the door of my old company for the last time as an employee.  I paused for about fifteen seconds in order to appreciate the moment that it clicked shut behind me.  I took no pleasure in this, it was actually a little depressing to hear it all summed up in that sound.  It reminded me of the last time I visited Washington and was keenly aware that I was no longer part of the "submarine club" and couldn't go on base to see my old haunts.


The hours leading up to that moment at the door had been a lot more complex emotionally than I had expected them to be.  By nature, I am the kind of person who would just as soon fade away than have to say goodbyes.  I never really know what to say when someone else leaves or when I leave.  As the day goes on, I find that I get worse and worse at it since I use up most of my best lines early on ("Best" being a highly relative term).  It felt like a thirty-foot band-aid that was being slowly pulled off as the day progressed and there was some raw emotion underneath it.  While I am 110% sure of the direction that I am going, I can;t help but feel like a soldier who has led his team into a battle and is now pulling himself out.  While I take solace from the fact that my team is well equipped to win and I was able to hand-pick a great new leader for them, it doesn't erase the guilt.  As I looked into their eyes throughout the day, I suspect that they could see what I was feeling.


Despite the personal emotions that I was dealing with, my team and the extended members of it, put a lot of effort into making me feel like my time at Verigy meant something.  I had never seen or felt anything like it before.  For starters, they had arranged a going away lunch at a local vegan restaurant, Merit Vegetarian.  They had been scouting out locations on the sly and happened to stumble upon one of my favorites.  The lunch coordinators even facilitated a late change of dates in order to take advantage of the fact that the restaurant was holding a benefit for the victims of the Japan earthquake.  It was great to see so many of the faces of people who I had worked with in my time there and there were even some "blasts from the past".  I was very moved that they chose to be there.


The meal was great, except for some delays on some of the orders due to the volume of business that day, and I think it gave a lot of people their first exposure to the breakthroughs in vegan cuisine (It's not just carrots and sticks anymore).  At the end of the lunch, a member of my team shared some kind words and presented me with a box of gifts.  Since these were in company boxes, there were the requisite jokes about how they had found a new use for scrap parts as souvenirs.  As I looked at the box of wrapped gifts, there was a somberness to the moment that went beyond just the appreciation for the thought and my feelings of being among these great people.  I would have been fine without anything since the lunch was enough, but now that I had these in my arms, I wondered how well the people I work with knew me.  While I am a firm believer that it is the thought that counts (Which is why I have kept so many clothes from Lori that I don't wear), I think we all have experienced gifts that are misses and those which are home-runs.


The card was the first thing I opened, but I couldn't read it there without risking losing my composure.  That would have to wait until I got home.  Starting with the first box, it was clear that that this was going to be headed for McCovey Cove.  As I continued with them, there was a theme that showed how much the team really got me and how much effort they put into it. 

My new work ensemble: Vegan coveralls, gloves, hat, and boots.



Coveralls emblazoned with my website's logo.




They also added my name and new home.




Hopefully this was in recognition of my cool headedness.





New non-leather rugged work boots.



As the team explained how they had selected the items, it was amusing to realize how they had been scouting me out.  I play racquetball every week with one of my team members and when he had been steering the conversation toward racquetball gloves, he had been trying to learn my glove size.  His keen interest in the past perils of my shoe-sizing suddenly made a lot more sense than it had at the time (I used to wear a shoe-size that was one and a half two big on account of my wide "Fred Flintstone" feet and hadn't realized this until I went to buy my first dress clothes...at age twenty-seven).

All of the thought that went into this and the execution of the lunch made what I was feeling even harder to bear.  It is only now, a couple days later that I can read the card and really sit down and try to put what I was feeling to electronic paper.  At lunch, I had borrowed the Peace Corps motto of, "It's the toughest job you'll ever love" to try to express it, and it works just as well right now.  It was in that moment, that this feeling crystallized.  While I found myself smiling a lot more often as the days wound down, there had been a lot of smiles all along.  Sure, we may have become battle-hardened, but between battles we enjoyed each others company and in the midst of the fire-fights, we had looked to each other for support.  Along with my new found realization about loving the job, I know that I will never be going back to my old company.  It was/is the people who make it special and once you remove yourself from that, it is never possible to really go back.  People come and go and change and the dynamic will never be quite the same.  It is with that sentiment that I make a closing commentary for anyone who actually reads this.

Recently I have become interested in World War II documentaries.  I have marvelled at the bravery of those who fought the good fight and often lost their lives in the process.  As I watched these, I started to realize the importance of perspective.  These acts of selflessness and bravery are profound when viewed today, but I would contend they are all the more potent when you imagine that the outcomes weren't known when all of this was going on.  While acknowledging that there is no direct comparison between this and what is going on at my old company, I believe that there is an indirect one.  The M&A activity that is going on right now is public knowledge and anyone who has ever been through this knows the uncertainty that this brings.  If I have learned anything from those documentaries, it is that true greatness comes from the ability, ne the desire, to go "once more unto the breach" and face the challenges that life throws at you regardless of the unknown future.  This test of mettle is ultimately more important than any one job since it means that you are indeed worthy of any job.

The End of this Chapter and the Beginning of the Next

In advance of my new direction, I figured I would share my formal closure which I sent out last week at work:

Those who know me or who have ever stopped by my cube will probably be aware of my involvement with a non-profit organization (Farm Sanctuary) which is dedicated to rescuing and rehabilitating farmed animals and educating the public about the nature of factory farming.  This is something that I am very passionate about and which I have endeavored to become more involved with over the last year and a half.  A few weeks ago, I was contacted by the shelter manager in Orland, CA (Where I volunteer every other week) about a position that they had opening up to see if I would be interested in being considered.  This past Saturday, February 26th, I was told that the position was mine if I wanted it.

It has been an interesting last eighteen months for me, both on a professional and a personal level.  I have spent a lot of time focused on self-discovery and trying to figure out not just "what I want to do when I grow up", but "who I want to be when I grow up" as well.  While these are very similar, I believe there is a key distinction.  Along the way, I have been writing about my experiences since this provided an opportunity to get in touch with another of my passions, creativity.  An interesting side-effect of writing about your life is that you start to see yourself as a character in your story and you begin to appreciate the control that you have over the way the story plays out.  While it may often feel like you are "along for the ride", your life is really a product of decisions, both small and large.

On Monday, February 28th, I made a large decision and informed Verigy that I would be accepting the position at Farm Sanctuary.  This is a bitter-sweet decision for me.  While I know that this is the right move for me as a person, I will miss many of the aspects of Verigy that have also become a big part of my life:

• While it may not feel like it on any given day, I will miss the ride.  Like any good ride, it has been a combination of the road and the people I have been travelling on it with, and they have both been great.
• I believe that the Support Operations Team, under Barry's leadership, is headed in a direction that really makes sense to me, and a part of me wishes to be part of seeing the vision become a reality.
• I have had the honor of being part of a special team who have supported me through good times and bad times and have been able to make some really big changes in how we perform as a unit. 

My new job will be dramatically different from my job today.  It will involve simple, but meaningful things such as cleaning barns, feeding and caring for animals, and working to communicate with people about the cause.  To many people this may sound like an odd transition, but for those who really know me it won't.  It will be a chance to work outdoors on something that really matters to me where I can see that I am making a difference every day.  It really is my dream job and I believe that the last eighteen months have been all about leading me to the opportunity to make this choice.

My last day with Verigy is expected to be March 25th, 2011 and there will be a lot of work to be done between now and then in order to ensure a smooth transition.  I like to believe that my biggest contribution to my team has been to provide them with this opportunity to do great and important things and I trust that this will continue past my departure.  I want to thank everyone for the lessons that you have taught me in my time here, everywhere and everyday, and to wish you all the very best as you continue down the road to Verigy's future. 

Sincerely,

Brian Higgins

"There are two things that I want you to make up your minds to: first, that you are going to have a good time as long as you live - I have no use for the sour-faced man - and next, that you are going to do something worthwhile, that you are going to work hard and do the things you set out to do." (Theodore Roosevelt)