The Bottom Rung

(Note: I’m bringing up some jobs I’ve had here, but this post is not meant to dunk on any particular place I’ve worked in the past, but to point out some trends that have little to do with any particular employer or company. I’m also attempting to be as vague and circumspect as possible when discussing these jobs, just in case they could affect future employment, because capitalism stifles open critique, but that’s a topic for another time.)

A few years ago at a previous job, the department I was working in was offered an incentive by upper management: if we, as a department, met a certain sales quota, a commission would be added to our paychecks. There were four of us in the department at the time, and this offer was extended to 1) our supervisor, 2) the guy who was previously our supervisor but was only a few years away from retirement so was winding back his duties, 3) my co-worker who had been there a year and a half less than me, and…that’s it. I wasn’t offered the chance to make any extra money, no matter how well our department did.

I was obviously confused and a little hurt by this, but determined to be a good employee, so I asked both my supervisor and his boss what I could do to qualify for this program. It obviously wasn’t just a matter of seniority, as my co-worker who had been there for a shorter time was able to take advantage of the program. It wasn’t a matter of sales numbers or similar metrics; our department didn’t measure sales or performance on an individual employee basis (in fact, our department had almost no influence on sales at all, which I’ll come back to in a bit). I asked my bosses if my performance had been unsatisfactory, and no, it hadn’t. I performed my job to the letter, and rarely, if ever, got complaints (certainly none that my bosses could bring up or remember). In fact, many times our department got glowing reviews from clients, as we worked quite well together and were always professional, competent, and friendly. Sometimes the team members were mentioned by name in customer reviews, sometimes it was just the entire team, but either way we almost never got anything negative.

So why then, I asked? Why was I specifically the only person left out of this incentive program, if I had done literally nothing wrong, had done everything I was asked to do, and often more (for example, I volunteered to help with some office work after my old supervisor had his responsibilities scaled back). And more importantly, what, specifically, did I need to do in order to qualify?

The answer was…frustrating, because there was no answer. All they gave me was some vague advice about “trying harder” or “going the extra mile” or, I dunno, “synergizing”? Corporate buzzwords that don’t mean anything unless applied to specific behaviors and actions. “All right,” I asked, “what’s the extra mile? What does that mean for me? I work hard, I’m doing the best I can, have never gotten any bad reviews, I get along well with clients and my teammates…what do I need to do?!?” The answer: keep doing what I was doing, but…better? Either I failed to grasp the nuances of the advice I was being given, or they couldn’t articulate themselves exactly why the others in my department deserved better treatment than I did. In the following weeks and months I did my best to take the vague advice, but regardless of my positive record, I never was accepted into the program.

In the end, it was a fruitless exercise regardless (when you offer a sales incentive to a department that has almost no control over sales, and also don’t get the department’s input when setting the quota, then it’s an empty gesture anyway, as I think the others qualified for the commission maybe once by sheer luck, so it was all a wash in the end), but the whole exercise was harrowing for me, as not only did it shatter my trust in the management of the company, it also began to erode my own trust in myself as I did some self-reflection on what ineffable quality of mine was responsible for this snub. Was it some corporate or political thing that was entirely out of my control? Or was it really something about me, something that other people can’t (or won’t) point out specifically but that everybody can observe? That somehow I come across as a person who just plain doesn’t deserve recognition, trust, or responsibility?

I looked over my other positions in life, both professionally and in other organizations, and some disturbing patterns began to emerge. Patterns that indicate that, whether or not this particular commission program snub was valid or not, it wasn’t just a one-off situation. There was something underlying it. Something specific to me.

And I don’t know what it is.

The fact is, in my entire professional career, in any job I’ve ever held, I have never been promoted. Not. Once. I’ve never received a raise, other than cost-of-living increases that everyone got. I’ve never been put in positions of authority over any other employees, or given additional opportunities beyond what other employees were also offered at the same time. Whether I worked at a place for ten days or ten years, I’ve never been able to get off that bottom rung of the corporate ladder. At best I’ve been given side-transfers to different positions that don’t pay any more or offer advancement, and sometimes I’ve been bounced around to different positions that give me fewer responsibilities, without explanation or any obvious job failings on my part (and I’ve asked when I can).

Granted, I’m not perfect, but I’m certainly not bad. I’ve never been promoted, but I’ve also never been fired. I’ve never received a raise beyond cost-of-living, but I’ve also never been written up. In the jobs I’ve had that have had performance reviews, the story is usually the same: I do really well at any and all responsibilities I’ve been given, and nobody has anything to complain about. Any mistakes I have made have not been repeated ones. I also sometimes get the “has a large personality, is friendly and funny and livens up the place” comment just because of who I am, though I never know if that’s an actual asset to the company or if the reviewer’s just thinking of something positive to say.

This hasn’t just been in my professional life. Back when I served an LDS mission, in a mission where advancement was usually permanent and often sequential (i.e. once a senior companion always an senior companion, and once you were a district leader or zone leader you were one until you went home with very few exceptions, which wasn’t the case in all missions), it took nearly three-quarters of my mission to become a senior companion. Even then it was only due to some emergency transfer shenanigans that opened up a senior spot, at which point the mission president specifically looked up who was the oldest junior companion in the mission and found that I was overdue. I only became a district leader my last two areas, and even then it was in the district where the only other pair serving was headed by the zone leader, so it didn’t really mean much.

The mission example is certainly water under the bridge of a now dried-up river since I’m not even a member of the LDS church anymore, but it’s yet another data point leading to this conclusion: within traditional power structures, there is some quality about me that makes people hesitant to give me responsibility, power, or even fair compensation. People can’t (or won’t) define it for me in a way I can understand and adapt to, and the result is a professional life littered with dead-end careers and failed opportunities to launch.

However, this doesn’t mean I’ve never held positions of authority or responsibility. I was pretty trusted in my sister’s murder mystery company. I had some decent opportunities when I was at BYU-Idaho, including a good internship and several chances to run audio for some theatrical productions (this is in contrast to my time at BYU-Provo, where, despite my best efforts, my only internship opportunity ended up being a bust where my equipment got stolen, and I certainly never made the connections needed to get a music career off the ground anyway). I, uh, was… an elder’s quorum president once? Does that count?

Going back to high school, I directed the pit orchestra for the musical Travels, which I guess was a position of authority (beyond me orchestrating nearly forty songs in about two and a half months by myself while still going to high school, which is a feat, certainly, but I have no idea where to put that data point in this discussion). Additionally, in high school I had earned a reputation for being the smart guy, the tech savvy guy, who was always involved with or spearheading random projects, especially for X-Works (the high school’s video production class) where I spend many hours becoming and acting as the trusted expert on the equipment. Soon after high school, my sister helped me land a part-time job running audio for a murder mystery company, which I did off-and-on for about ten years before I followed her when she split off to form her own murder mystery company, Poison Ivy Mysteries. And here and there throughout my entire adult life I’ve done a bunch of random freelance work, including working for a marketing group for about a year doing music right after I graduated from college (though technically I was on the bottom rung of a two-man audio operation there, so I don’t know if that counts).

The point is, while I’m not perfect, I can certainly handle responsibility and authority. I’ve proven that several times. So why do I come across as someone who can’t?

Is it my particular mental health issues? Certainly, due to the autism, I’m terrible at schmoozing and brown-nosing because my social cue-reading isn’t great, and when my social anxiety lets up to the point where I attempt to get in good with higher-ups it never results in anything productive (more often than not I get a “well, we’ll keep you in mind” which is a polite way of saying “go away, you’re not on the list”). That might count for part of it, but I can think of at least one example where somebody where I work has similar issues to mine, yet is often entrusted with additional responsibilities, powers, and trust despite barely being there longer than I have.

Am I too mediocre? In every job I’ve had I perform my duties to the letter. I work hard when it’s needed, I double check my work, I look for ways to improve and I try to take opportunities to go the extra mile when I can (though often this is met with “don’t mess with that, it isn’t your job” which is understandable but limits my chances to go “above and beyond”). Is doing my job well not good enough? Do I need to push harder in ways I don’t even comprehend? How come I appeared as the smart guy and the expert in school but have never been able to gain that same reputation professionally?

Do I just need to be patient? Sitting around in a low-paying job is, for most people, a starting point, and opportunities opening up is often due more to luck and good timing than talent or skill, after all. How long do I have to wait in a job where I can’t make enough to make ends meet? I was basically breaking even in a job for nearly ten years, and now I’m making even less. Is that what patience rewards me with? How long must one wait in an increasingly untenable situation, in the hopes that random luck will strike?

Is it masking? In the mental health community, “masking” means trying to hide your neurodivergence so as to better fit in and not make others feel uncomfortable around you. This takes an enormous amount of mental energy that neurotypical people don’t comprehend (here’s a video on the subject if you’re interested), and often leaves those of us who have to do it unable to concentrate on some of the more complicated social behaviors (like effective brown-nosing or self-promotion) even if we conceptually know how. Some people mask better than others, but if you’re too good at masking then you risk falling into what I call the “neurodivergent uncanny valley”, where you appear too “normal” for anyone to think you are obviously neurodivergent (thus engendering some sort of sympathy and/or accommodation), but you’re still not normal enough to function in a successful neurotypical manner (I may make a post expanding on this idea in the future).

Am I just simply being taken advantage of? Autistic people are notoriously easy to take advantage of because of our inability to recognize certain warning signs, and often we end up either being overly trusting and falling for every scam that comes along, or not trusting anything just to be safe, which also locks out many legitimate opportunities (I most often fall into this latter camp), and either way it comes across as somebody who’s “OK” with performing thanklessly or not getting promoted, even though we’re people too and just don’t express our frustration in the same way or get as pro-active about it.

Is it personal connections? Almost every position of authority I have had has either been due to someone else talking me up (most often siblings), or me being in on the ground floor on a project, if not straight-up being one of its founders/creators (like was the case with Travels or Poison Ivy Mysteries as well as various personal projects). Whenever I’m left to my own devices to promote myself, however, it has never been successful. I’ve read advice and attended countless seminars on how to improve yourself in the corporate space (granted, usually I was running audio for those seminars instead of being an attendee, but I was still in the room), but it never works for me. Is it just because I’m going it alone? Do I have to get a sibling or other close friend who’s just better at it than me to spoon-feed the narrative that I’m good enough to get promoted to those in power above me? Because…I don’t know how to feel about that, but it’s not a good feeling.

Part of the issues I’ve been grappling with since my autism diagnosis have centered around self-reliance and independence. I’ve always been fiercely independent: determined to support myself, to make it on my own, and to prove to myself and the world that I am able to contribute to society in a way that doesn’t rely on caretakers or charity. This often isn’t an option for people with autism to varying degrees because of how the world isn’t set up to accommodate these particular people’s challenges (and strengths, to be honest). Do I continue to struggle in a world stacked against me, or do I give up, throw in the towel, and rely on others’ goodwill to help make ends meet (which is unfair at best, and unreliable at worst if whoever I’m relying on decides I’m not worth the trouble or attaches strings that I find unacceptable)? How does that affect my self-esteem and sense of independence? Not well.

I’m currently in a bit of a professional bind, as the job I have now is a job I like in the field I am most interested and invested in, but it isn’t enough to cover my bills, and I have no idea how to get into a position there where I get paid enough to cover them. But going back to my pre-pandemic job means going back to the same place that had that commission debacle I described earlier, where I also have zero promotion prospects (and probably still won’t cover my bills, though it will get closer). Taking a third option (whether that means getting a second concurrent part-time job or quitting everything I’m doing and either going back to school or trying for something full-time) means starting over from square one at yet another company, where I will still be an entry-level worker, and if history is any indication…

…that’s all I will ever be.

…

Also my rent’s going up by $75 after the next month, so, uh………

(Note #2: I’ve said this before, but often people will take these career-related posts as opportunities to send me random job listings they think I’m interested in. Unless you specifically are offering me a job, please do not do this. I don’t need you to type stuff into Indeed.com on my behalf, or tell me of an opportunity at your sister’s husband’s best friend’s neighbor’s office.)