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| Kyndall Mason: An original |
There is no water cooler in my break room and if I want to catch up on inter-office gossip, I have to call a co-worker, 2,500 miles away. The dress code is pants optional and, sometimes, I make my important phone calls on my front porch. I video conference my way into staff meetings, where they project my head onto the wall, and I often toss around the idea of dressing as Max Headroom.
Yes, I am a child of the 80s and I work from home. It’s been my dream, for quite some time, to work from home. And for those of you who believe in manifest destiny, I think I just did. Only, my dream isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be. Don’t get me wrong, I love working from home, but it has stretched me in ways I didn’t think possible, and pushed me to think about my role being part of a team, and what, exactly, that means.
A little background, I work in communications for a labor union. This means that my job mostly consists of writing, emailing and phone calling, with a sprinkle of schwag design and materials production thrown into the mix. Essentially, I can do my job from anywhere, but I am certainly lucky to be able to do it from the comfort of my own home, in Portland, while my coworkers are in Pittsburgh.
For the first couple of months I sat glued to my desk, worried that I wouldn’t be able to do the work, as if for some reason working from home debilitated me to the point where I could not type, or talk. It didn’t help that I received a few comics from friends suggesting that working from home did exactly that, turning one into a mouth-breathing, slobbering fool that held the social graces, and smell, of a garbage bag.
After I settled in, I thought for sure my afternoons would be spent having coffee with friends, making midweek trips to the river and catching up on projects. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Although, I have to admit, I do have the luxury of dipping out of “the office” every so often to catch up with my close friend who is five months into her parenting venture, or another friend of mine, who’s lucky enough to be in a situation that doesn’t require him to work a full 9-5.
Other than that, unless I leave the house to walk the dog, I see no one...all day. I somehow missed the fact that most of my friends are lucky enough to be gainfully employed. Like me, most people are busy with their jobs all day, but they work with actual human beings; which means I spend a lot of my time talking to the dogs I live with.
I am nearly 10 months into my work from home gig, and I think I have finally hit my stride. Like a home-schooler must, I have managed to balance just the right amount of casual dress wear (read: pajama wearing) with enough social activities to prevent me from thinking that the dogs are talking back. I have joined two futsal (Brazilian rules indoor soccer) teams, paddled on a dragon boat team, keep up on household chores and laundry, and try to leave enough time in the day for a trip to the gym, or a short run. I even dabbled in a stint of hair modeling.
As far as being part of a team, working from home has actually forced me to be more communicative with my teammates. I work mostly with organizers who are out of the office, and I rarely saw or spoke with them when I lived in Pittsburgh. Now, we call and text each other all the time, sometimes just to say “Hi”. Our relationships are actually growing and developing professionally.
Ironically, I feel now that I am 2,500 miles away, I am a better team member. Maybe it’s the distance that makes me feel like I have to prove myself; maybe it’s the fact that I don’t have office distractions. Or maybe it’s simply because I found pants restrictive and my new work life has liberated me from the confines of conformity, and business casual.
Kyndall Mason is a communications manager with SEIU and works for social and economic justice through a behind the scenes role that will hopefully allow her and her partner to one day enjoy the life of DINKS (double income, no kids) -- after marriage and home buying, of course.
Editor's note: A year ago, I described Kyndall as one of the finest and funniest people on the planet. That's still very true. I'm delighted she and her our daughter moved back from Pittsburgh. And thanks to passage of a neighboring state's same-sex marriage law, in about a year from now, I will be able to proudly call Kyndall my daughter-in-law.
Tomorrow: Tim Akimoff on "The two types"