I’m struggling some to wrap my head around the dark
web-related product I’m managing. Partly because of Atlassian-based tools
we use (I’ve never used them before), partly because the process is different
from other companies where I’ve been a project manager (every org is
different), partly because I was not involved in the initial stages of it (like
defining requirements; that’s one of the strongest bonds between a PM and a
product) and partly because not three days after my manager explained what the application
was going to do I sat in a meeting where it became clear that this sucker had
morphed into something new, now with only about 35% of what I’d been told.
And—even though I like to think of product management as
performance art, the reality is that it’s performance art with Jack Russell
terriers; you’re always trying to get all the disparate (and very well-meaning)
colleagues lined up in some order that will facilitate the performance, but
they’re way too interested in passing moths, a straw sticking up from the
ground and the scent of bacon coming from somewhere.
So, because I really want to do a good job for this company, there’s
a continuo of anxiety underpinning my struggle; I keep thinking I’ve lost IQ
points because something I’ve been told just doesn’t stick.
Well, my colleague, MG, has alleviated most of that angst. This
woman is not only widely versed in our product set, she’s one of the two best
program managers I’ve ever worked with. If MG had been involved in Operation
Overlord, there wouldn’t have been that major SNAFU on Omaha Beach. And if for
some reason things had started out badly, she’d have had them sorted by the
time the second wave was hitting the sand.
I watched her in action during the day-long engineering planning
session last month—she was documenting the activities and would not let the
room full of engineers, architects, PMs and directors move on until she’d clarified
what, in fact, we’d all agreed to, step by step.
I was in awe.
Since then, she’s taken the lead in making sure that PM is
following through. Again—we don’t move off a PPT slide until she gets the level
of information she thinks is necessary.
Well, back to my dark web thing. I’ll refer to it as Project Brioche.
We agreed a couple of weeks ago that we’d have operational meetings on a weekly
basis, and last week was the first one. The day before I was staring at the
item on my Outlook calendar with a feeling approaching despair, because
heretofore the techies have been driving it, and it’s up to me to take over the
leadership, because I’m PM, but I’m unclear about this thing, what it is
supposed to do, where it came from and the whole megillah. At that exact moment,
MG popped up on Teams asking if I had time to chat.
That chat turned into a 90-minute call during which MG put
together the framework for that particular meeting (which involved getting
everyone associated with it on the same page) and for future meetings (where we
check progress). She asked me so many questions I could not answer and I was
getting close to crying, but then I realized that what she wanted is absolutely
crucial to not only Brioche’s success, but to mine as the PM. She also gently
laid out responsibilities for various parts of the meeting, taking a huge
burden off of me and giving me confidence that I could in fact deliver on my
part.
And—just as I was about to suggest that we do this pre-meeting
synch regularly, she asked, “What do you think about the two of us getting
together before each group session?” If hugs could reach from DC to Dallas, she’d
have been squished.
That first operational check-in was difficult, largely because so
much of Brioche is amorphous; way more than normal. But also because of all
those Jack Russells sniffing bacon and chasing moths. Although I was not as
leaderly as I’d have liked, MG was right there to keep things moving.
And she followed up later in the week to plough through the
agenda, nail down action items and get us set up for this week. Again—I was so
grateful I could have cried. I told her that this kind of thing is not my
strong suit, and I’m deeply thankful that it’s her very happy place. We’re like
yin and yang, complementing each other’s skills and mitigating weaknesses. As I
said: it’s a marriage made in heaven.
A couple of other things I’ll share. Before the big engineering
session, MG and I had only “met” over the phone. Once or twice I said something
that I really thought nothing of, but she found impressive. The first time, we
were on a team call where our manager (being at a conference) kept dropping off
the audio. MG was the first to tell him what was happening, and I added, “Yeah.
I’m sitting here taking notes and [with JH cutting out] I don’t know what to
write.
MG: “I’m so glad JH hired a smartass.”
The other time was two days before the big engineering matinée. We
had a semi-come to Jesus meeting with the head of engineering, our manager, the
VP and the SVP. One of the issues was around the value in some of our pricing
strategies, and I blurted, “[Product package] is basically handing out baggies
of crack at the playground. The money comes in after they’re hooked.”
(Well—it’s true. Perhaps not elegantly phrased, but that’s a
time-tested method of breaking into a new market.)
MG: “I am really looking forward to meeting [Bas Bleu].”
So on this Gratitude Monday, I’m giving it up for MG, who is way
more than a colleague; she’s a comrade. We’re going to turn out the best
Brioche ever.
