Erosion of Professional Values & the Story of My First Professional License

I've lived in Washington, DC, now for nearly 15 years.  I work in the nonprofit mental health world, directly with poor people with many life problems. The lack of professionalism in my co-workers and in the professionals with whom I attempt to deal continually astounds me. People often do not seem to feel responsible for doing their jobs, and, if you expect them to...well, you're the one with the problem in their eyes. This includes answering phones, returning phone messages, being on time (or within, say, 45 minutes of on time), and treating others with respect. Oh, and actually doing your job. 

I'm in my mid-40s, and I remember my grandfather talking to me about work values like being early for your job and really listening to others. I began my professional life in Austin, Texas, and while the nonprofit world there had its share of inbred, unprofessional conduct and culture, I was totally unprepared for the bureaucratic mess that is Washington, DC. Keep in mind, I'm not talking about federal government here. I have little frame of reference for that, but city government. Oh my god. 

To do what I do, I needed a professional license. Let me tell you the story of when I submitted the paperwork for that first license. In the mid 90s, DC had a "professional" building on H Street in what is called Chinatown. This was pre-Verizon Center (our basketball and hockey arena which has since energized and resurrected that neighborhood...thanks for spending your own money, Abe Pollen...he's an old-style, community oriented owner who didn't expect the taxpayers to pony up hundreds of millions of dollars for their toys) & the neighborhood was crack central. I mean bad and somewhat dangerous. So I took my carefully assembled paperwork down to this building on H Street. This was to get my first license as a mental health professional, a very big deal to me. The office where I needed to turn in the paperwork was on the 6th floor. As I entered the building, I was stunned by its condition. This was a DC government owned building. Linoleum was peeling up off the floors. Ceiling tiles were missing. It was filthy. And, of course, the elevator wasn't working. I made my way up the stairs to the appropriate office which had a large counter and was empty when I entered. Behind the counter there was nothing except a conference table pushed up against two walls in the righthand back corner of the room. On the farthest corner of the table, also up against two walls, was a large stack of papers. Next to it was a big stapler. That was all that was in the room that I could see. No humans. I called out for a person to help me. No response. I waited, uncertain of what to do. I had all my papers for my license. I needed to turn them in. After a minute, I called out again. A large African-American woman who looked to be in her late 20s or early 30s appeared in the doorway behind the counter. She slowly made her way to the counter, regarding me with silent disinterest and a hint of sullenness. I explained that I was there to turn in my licensing paperwork. She took the paperwork from my hand, slowly made her way to the large table, inserted all of my carefully assembled documents into the stapler, and stapled through the middle of the stack. Then she dropped my documents onto the top of the large stack of papers in the corner of the table and slowly made her way out of the room. She had never spoken a word. I was stunned. Eleven (!!!) months and innumerable, many unreturned, calls later, I received my license.

This experience was a formative one in my education of the way things (don't) work in DC. This has been followed by managing employees (as my work responsibilities in jobs grew to include supervisory duties) who don't feel the need to do aspects of their jobs they don't like, HR departments who seem to feel that employees are a nuisance who keep them from doing their jobs and enjoying their existence, the and DC's DMV (don't get me started)... But I think it's not just DC. This is part of a larger erosion in our culture of work ethic. People's personal values seem to have become more narcissistic and responsibility for doing that for which they're paid seems to have become secondary to self-centered pursuits. I had en employee who didn't do several key aspects of her job (taking action in the form of reprimands would have forced me to deal with HR which is its own form of hell) and she let me know that she believed she was dyslexic by way of explanation. The fact that the duties that she was neglecting were not reading oriented did not seem to have entered her thought process, and, as she was in the process of leaving the job because I had pushed small issues like asking her to arrive within 15 minutes of her scheduled start time, I didn't press the discussion. 

If it sounds like I'm bitter, the truth is I've become cynical after nearly 15 years in Washington, DC. As a mental health professional, every day I encounter professionals who are caring and committed. But they are the exception. The rule is either very late or simply no calls back when you leave messages, insolent attitudes when you ask people to do that for which they are paid, and people who seem to regard their jobs as a nuisance. I know from my formative work experiences in Austin, TX (and no, I'm not a republican) that things run better in other places. I've about had it. Other, friendlier parts of the country are starting to look good. And so is leaving the folks here with this beast of their own making. 

(Oh, I didn't mention Comcast with their insidious, serpentine, intentionally designed communications-frustrating maze as they're not just local. That's a topic for another time. Maybe my next post'll be a little happier...)