Six Months

I hadn't been in the building five minutes this afternoon before Rick, my chief photographer, came looking for me.

"I need to give you your review," he said.

I was a little surprised, because I had heard nothing about this. My first thought was that I had done something wrong. I soon learned that this was just routine.

"Today's your six month anniversary," he said. I smiled at the mistake. I had a girlfriend once who insisted on celebrating our "one month anniversary." When I corrected her and explained that the word anniversary implies that a year has passed, she got irritated with me and said she was sick and tired of my trying to make her feel stupid all the time. We didn't have a two month anniversary. I remembered that lesson and said nothing to Rick.

"This'll be quick," Rick said, once we got into the conference room. "You're doing fine so far. On the positives, you learned the truck faster than anybody I've had and your shooting is solid."

"Thanks," I said. It felt awkward to smile, but I couldn't help it.

Rick continued. "On the 'need to improve' list, you should try to get along with the reporters and producers a little better. I know they can be frustrating, but you don't always handle it the best way. I can't have you refusing to do stories."

"I haven't refused anything," I said.

"Maybe you haven't outright refused, but you've given the impression you're going to refuse to so what you're told."

"Wait, so I'm being reprimanded for what Wendy thinks I might do?"

"No, you're not being reprimanded, and Wendy doesn't have anything to do with this. This is just a review, and I have to put things in here for you to improve."

That statement seemed a little odd and took me off guard. He has to put things in there? That made it sound like he was under mandate to find fault, even where none exists. Even so, I let it go for the moment.

"I also have to include the incident with the live truck--"

"But that wasn't my fault! That guy hit me!"

"I'm not saying it's your fault," he said. "But I have to include any damage to equipment in the review, even if it's an accident. It doesn't count against you."

"If it doesn't count against me, why is it there at all?" I asked.

"See, this is what I'm talking about, about how you handle stressful situations. You're raising your voice and getting angry, and that's not the proper way to handle this."

I held my tongue and fumed.

"You really need to work on that anger issue. So, overall, it's a satisfactory review. Do you know about the scores?"

"No," I said.

"I can give you a 3, 4 or 5. Three is 'needs improvement.' Four is 'satisfactory.' Five is 'good.' There's also a two and a six, but two gets you fired and we aren't allowed to give sixes."

There was another "secret" mandate. I wondered why the company had a six in their review score if they weren't allowed to use it. "What if somebody really deserves a six?" I asked.

"Nobody deserves a six," he said. "I'm not even sure why we have it."

"Has anybody ever gotten a six?" I asked.

"I think the sales guys get them sometimes," he said. "But that's just some kind of incentive they have. I'm not allowed to give sixes. Anyway, you have a four, which is fine. If you can keep up the good work until your year review, you'll normally get a raise then. It won't be much, like a dime or something."

"Okay," I said. I wasn't feeling very good about this review process.

"Now I just need to sign this," he said, scribbling on the bottom of the second sheet, "And you need to sign here also."

I looked at the paper he handed me. There was a signature line for me at the bottom, above where he had scribbled his own name. Above that was a brief statement which read:

I have read the above and understand it to be an accurate reflection of my performance during the review period. This review has been thoroughly discussed with my supervisor, and I have been given an opportunity to answer and correct any statements herein which I feel do not adequately describe my job duties.

"I can't sign that," I said.

Rick looked surprised. "Why not?" he asked.

"Because I don't agree with what was said about me in there."

"You don't have to agree with it," he said. "You're just signing that you received it."

"That's not what it says," I said. "It says I 'understand it to be an accurate reflection of my performance.' I don't think it's accurate."

"Well, uh... What's not accurate about it?"

"I told you. I haven't refused to do anything I have been asked, and the live truck accident had nothing to do with me. If anything, that's the station's fault for sending me out with faulty equipment."

"I told you that stuff doesn't really matter," he said. "I have to put that in there, but you're doing a good job. I hope you're not going to screw it up by causing a problem with this."

There was silence for a few moments while Rick stared at me, and I stared at the paper. Then I broke it. "What happens if I don't sign this?"

"Well. I don't know," Rick said. "Nothing good, I'm sure. For one thing it will cause ME a headache."

I thought about it for another moment, then picked up the pen and struck through the words "and understand it to be an accurate reflection of my performance during the review period" and "I have been given an opportunity to answer and correct any statements herein which I feel do not adequately describe my job duties." Then I initialed both sections and signed the paper.

Rick took the paper and looked at the lines I had drawn. He seemed to be struggling to decide whether he could accept that. Finally he said, "Well, uh. Okay, I guess. Keep up the good work."

And that was that.

I have had employee reviews before, when I worked at the bookstore. Those gave us the option of disputing whatever was in the review, in writing, and they didn't require us to sign that we agreed with the assessment. It was weird to be instructed to agree to an assessment I believed was wrong.

Later this afternoon I was talking with Dax about it, and he said the GM actually requires the managers to find bad things to put into their employee reviews. "They make you sign that you agree you have problems, so if you ever cause any shit they can pull out the paper and say 'See? You even admit you fucked up.' You could save somebody's life and shit, and they still wouldn't give you a good review. Ain't nothin' you can do about it, so don' worry about it."

I guess I won't. I guess.