. The Case for Slowing Down by Tom Terez We all have our stories about September 11. I was about to take my three-year-old to her first day of preschool when the phone rang. Did I see what was happening, my sister asked frantically. And had I heard from Jim? I raced to the TV, flicked it on, and stood aghast. My thoughts immediately turned to my brother Jim, who worked at 7 World Trade, just across from the twin towers. None of the buildings had yet collapsed, but the scene was all fire and death. In an instant, my mind had gone from thoughts of a sunny first day at preschool to the horror of war at my brother's doorstep. Throughout the morning, while my children played in another room, I watched TV and waited for a phone call from Jim or his wife or anyone who knew where he was. But the only calls we got were from others in our immediate family who wanted to know if we had any new news. No one knew a thing beyond what we were witnessing on TV, and all our conversations trailed off with "I can't believe this is happening." At noon, it was time to head to preschool, and my wife and I decided to take our daughter together on her big first day. We met the teachers and mixed with the kids on the playground. The children were laughing and chattering, all having fun. The adults did their best to play along, but minds and emotions were elsewhere. We whispered among ourselves, feeling sick, searching for words, wondering what else would happen as this terrible day unfolded. I used my cell phone to check in with family members, but there still was no word. And on the drive back home two hours later, my mind was going back and forth between horrible TV images and a desperate hope that people would survive. I remember one other thought: that things would never be the same. After a tragedy like this, I reasoned, people will surely be different. They'll treat each other with more compassion. At about 4 p.m., I finally heard from my brother's wife. He had gotten out of the area before the buildings fell and was now safely out of New York City. But for so many others.... No, things would never be the same. A month later I visited Jim in Manhattan. We spent five hours walking around the remains of the WTC site, looking, talking, thinking, hurting. We bought lemonade and brownies from two grade-schoolers who were raising money for the firefighters. I've been to New York City many times, but this was so different. The tough city of big buildings and big business seemed so...human. While we were eating our third brownie, a woman walked up and paid for her lemonade with a hundred-dollar bill. "I know it's for a good cause," she said softly, and she walked off into the crowd. Ever since September 11, I've been collecting newspaper and magazine articles about the shift to greater humanity in the workplace. "Attacks prompt people to rebalance work, life," declared one Associated Press headline from October. "Workers take steps to boost own morale," The Charlotte Observer reported that same month. And in February, Fast Company magazine focused its cover story onÖlove. The article, by author and Yahoo senior exec Tim Sanders, builds a wonderful case for compassion and selflessness in the historically all-about-the-bottom-line business world. He writes: "The most profound transformation in business -- a transformation made more urgent, not less so, by the calamitous events in New York and Washington, D.C. -- is the downfall of the barracudas, sharks, and piranhas, and the ascendancy of nice, smart people with a passion for what they do." Who ever thought we'd hear about the rise of "nice" people? This is good news indeed, but recently, I've noticed that these promising articles are getting harder and harder to find. Could we be going back to business as usual? We've had the therapeutic calendar change to a new year and the national catharsis of a victorious Winter Olympics. There are signs that our economy is pulling out of recession. It's tempting to let the daily grind define our lives all over again. In the wake of September 11, an overworked friend of mine had promised himself he'd rebalance his priorities. We recently had plans to meet for lunch, but he sent me a quick e-mail. He was trying to wrestle down several impossible deadlines, and could we please reschedule? I wrote back asking him when we could get together. "In five weeks or so," he responded. "The hamster wheel is going too fast right now." A couple of weeks ago I overheard four people talking about the terrorist attack and its aftermath. They were from four different organizations, and all were saying that their workplaces had returned to the old routine. My ears perked up, and I asked what they meant. They told me about the pleasant civility that had unfurled on September 12. "Everyone seemed more empathetic," one of them said. "It took lots of different forms," she explained. "For one thing, people who never gave me the time of day were suddenly being friendly and saying hello. And our group meetings seemed to become more collaborative. We gave each other more time to talk instead of trying to ram through our own ideas. And I think we really listened to other people's perspectives. I wouldn't call it a lovefest, but there definitely was a change." They went on to tell me that internal competition is back in full force as people and work units fight for scarce resources. Meetings look and feel like the meetings of old, with people talking over each other and the boss ultimately dictating how things are going to be done. As for those pleasant hallway hellos, they're becoming a quaint memory. I won't deny that these are fast times and that we all need to be productive. But perhaps we should make a habit of slowing down, living more in the present, acknowledging the positives, and taking time to appreciate all the people around us. It shouldn't have to take another tragedy to make our work lives and workplaces more human. ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Tom Terez (TomTerez.com) is an international consultant and frequent speaker on organizational performance (BetterWorkplaceNow.com) and personal excellence (InnerBest.com) Copyright 2002 Crain Communications, Inc. Copyright © 2008 Tom Terez Workplace Solutions, Inc. All rights reserved. P.O. Box 21444, Columbus, Ohio USA 43221-0444. Tel. 614-488-9721. Online Contact Form Home | Ideas and Insights | Improvement Tools | White Papers | Reprint Center | Talks, Workshops, Consulting | E-Letters | Contact | For Clients Visit our other sites:...TomTerez.com...InnerBest.com BetterWorkplaceNow.com, Better Workplace Now, TomTerez.com, InnerBest.com, and Inner Best are trademarks of Tom Terez Workplace Solutions, Inc.