We Encouraged Employees to Grow. But What Kind of Growth Did We Reward?

 

Part I: Career Development, Subject Matter Experts, and the Corporate Ladder

I've always been something of an idealist.

Throughout my career in Human Resources and Learning & Development, I believed strongly in helping people recognize their strengths, develop their skills, and reach their professional potential.

I still do.

Now that I'm retired, I've had time to reflect on some of the things I experienced and observed during my corporate years. I've begun questioning some of our traditional assumptions about career development and professional success.

In particular, I've been thinking about the difference between helping employees grow and rewarding them for that growth.

A Program I Truly Believed In

In my final corporate role, I taught a career development program built around core competencies.

Employees examined the competencies required for their current positions and explored those they would need for their next upward move.

It was a wonderful program. I genuinely believed in its merits.

Helping people understand their strengths, identify development opportunities, and take responsibility for their careers was exactly the kind of work I loved.

I believed that employees who continued to learn, develop expertise, and make valuable contributions would be recognized and rewarded.

Perhaps I was naïve.

Looking back, however, I wonder whether organizational reward systems always reflected the philosophy behind the development programs we offered.

Were we encouraging employees to grow while rewarding them primarily for moving up?

I Was a Subject Matter Expert, Too

My own career was centered on Learning & Development.

I loved designing and delivering programs, developing my expertise, and helping others become more effective in their work.

Yet I also understood that if I wanted greater compensation, recognition, and career advancement, moving into management often seemed like the expected path.

Over the years, I worked with many talented subject matter experts.

These were the people others turned to for answers. They understood their disciplines, solved difficult problems, shared their knowledge, and often served as informal mentors.

They were frequently described as invaluable.

I sometimes wondered whether their expertise was valued as highly in practice as it was in words.

Higher salaries, bonuses, stock options, and other rewards often appeared more closely associated with moving into management.

For some employees, that was exactly where they wanted to go. For others, it wasn't.

They loved their work. They wanted to deepen their knowledge, tackle more complex challenges, and become even better at what they did.

But what happened when the next upward move meant managing people rather than practicing the discipline they loved?

Why should someone have to move away from the work they do exceptionally well in order to be considered successful?

When Good Systems Meet Human Behavior

Throughout my career, I was involved in designing employee development and performance management programs.

I understood the importance of establishing SMART objectives; goals that were specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and time-bound.

Clear expectations and measurable results were intended to make performance evaluations more objective and meaningful.

I believed in those principles, too but experience taught me that even the best-designed systems depend on the people responsible for implementing them.

Performance evaluations, compensation decisions, and career opportunities don't occur in isolation. They involve human judgment, organizational priorities, and sometimes competing interests.

An employee's contributions may be exceptional, but those contributions also need to be understood and represented when decisions are made.

Not every employee has a manager who is equally effective at advocating on their behalf. Some managers are more assertive when representing their employees' accomplishments, while others may be more reserved.

And not every employee is equally comfortable advocating for themselves.

Some individuals are naturally quieter or more introverted. They may be exceptionally competent, meet or exceed their objectives, and make valuable contributions without feeling the need to call attention to their accomplishments.

Others are more comfortable making their achievements visible.

Neither personality type determines an employee's actual value to the organization.

Should the ability to promote one's accomplishments influence how those accomplishments are valued?

That's one reason objective performance standards are so important. Managers also have a responsibility to understand, recognize, and communicate the contributions of the people they supervise.

Even the best-designed employee development and performance management programs are only as effective as the people responsible for putting their principles into practice.

An organization can encourage employees to develop their expertise, establish clear performance expectations, and speak passionately about valuing talent.

Ultimately, however, its commitment is demonstrated by the decisions it makes about recognition, compensation, and opportunity.

Leadership Doesn't Always Require a Management Title

Some of the most influential people I've encountered throughout my career weren't necessarily those with the most impressive titles.

They were the colleagues who generously shared their knowledge, the experienced employees who patiently coached newcomers, and the people whose judgment and expertise others relied upon. They may not have managed departments or controlled budgets, but they exercised leadership in meaningful ways.

I wonder how many talented specialists pursued management positions because they genuinely wanted to lead people and how many did so because it seemed to be the most realistic path to greater financial rewards and professional recognition.

There's another consideration.

Sometimes an exceptional subject matter expert moves into management, only to discover that the responsibilities of managing people aren't where their strengths or interests lie.

Being outstanding in a particular discipline doesn't automatically mean someone will be equally successful managing others. The skills are different, and so are the sources of professional satisfaction.

In those situations, both the employee and the organization can lose. The employee may struggle in a role that doesn't suit them, while the organization loses someone who was exceptionally effective in their area of expertise.

Of course, many subject matter experts become excellent managers and organizations need capable managers who enjoy developing and leading others. They also need exceptional specialists who find fulfillment in their disciplines.

Shouldn't we create career paths that allow people to succeed by building on their strengths rather than requiring them to move away from those strengths?

When I Became a Business Owner

Later in my career, when I established Blackbird Learning Associates, I experienced another dimension of leadership.

As a business owner, I was responsible for managing the business, making decisions, developing client relationships, and determining its direction.

At the same time, I continued to draw upon and expand my expertise in Learning & Development, résumé writing, and job-search coaching.

I was still doing the work I loved which was helping people develop their skills and move forward in their careers.

I was also developing leadership skills through the experience of running my own business.

I didn't have to choose between being a leader and being a subject matter expert. I was both.

That experience reinforced something I had come to believe throughout my career: leadership isn't defined solely by a position on an organizational chart.

Expertise doesn't become less valuable simply because someone chooses not to pursue a traditional management position.

Career Development Isn't Always Career Advancement

An employee can develop enormously without moving up an organizational chart.

They can acquire new competencies, deepen their expertise, expand their influence, and make increasingly valuable contributions.

Growth can be upward.

It can also be lateral.

And sometimes, it can mean becoming exceptionally good at the work you're already doing.

Today, many organizations talk about alternative career paths, continuous learning, and the importance of developing talent.

That's encouraging yet I still wonder whether compensation, recognition, and advancement opportunities have kept pace with those philosophies.

I don't have all the answers, and I recognize that organizations differ in how they structure career paths and rewards.

After spending so many years helping people grow, however, I believe these are questions worth asking.

There's a difference between telling subject matter experts they're valued and creating a system that rewards them accordingly.

Looking Back

Retirement has given me the freedom to reflect on my professional life without worrying about my next promotion or performance review.

I can appreciate the opportunities I had, the programs I believed in, and the talented people I worked alongside while also questioning some of the practices we accepted as normal.

I remain an idealist.

I still believe in helping people develop their potential but I also believe we need to broaden our understanding of professional growth and ensure that the ways we recognize and reward people reflect that understanding.

An organization reveals what it truly values not only through what it says, but through what it rewards.

If we truly value expertise, shouldn't our career development and reward systems reflect that value?

I'd be interested in hearing from others, particularly those who have built careers as subject matter experts.

Have you found meaningful opportunities to grow and be rewarded without moving into management?

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Coming Next — Part II: Not Every Career Moves Up: Rethinking How We Define Success

In my next reflection, I'll explore how we define and celebrate professional success, not only in the workplace, but also on LinkedIn and in society more broadly.

Why do promotions and impressive titles attract so much recognition, while lateral growth, entrepreneurship, creative pursuits, skilled trades, and later-life reinvention sometimes receive less attention?

Perhaps it's time to reconsider what we choose to celebrate.

Facts, Analysis, Opinion

 Sometimes the clearest path isn't the easiest one to see.

For years I've noticed the bickering that seems to surround politics. It made me realize that somewhere along the way, we've blurred the lines between facts, analysis, and opinion.

To me, they're very different.

Facts answer, What happened?

Analysis asks, What might it mean?

Opinion answers, What do I think about it?

During my years in human resources and learning and development, we couldn't jump to conclusions. Whether we were writing SMART goals, conducting performance reviews, or investigating workplace concerns, we always started with the facts. Only then did we analyze what they meant. Opinions came last.

I've found that approach works just as well in everyday life.

Whether I'm reading the news, listening to a friend, or trying to understand a family disagreement, I try to pause and ask:

What are the facts?

What's someone's analysis of those facts?

And only then... what do I think?

It helps me listen a little more carefully, think a little more deeply, and react a little less quickly.

Maybe that's something we could all use a little more of these days.

What is Your Dream Career?

 Almost every day I get a notification on LinkedIn about going back to school to learn something new or to get degree in a totally different field than what I knew. It made me think, "If I could start a completely different career tomorrow, what would it be?

The list keeps growing. Right now it's doctor, hair stylist, actor and research scientist.

At first glance, they seem to have nothing in common. Then the more I thought about it, the more I realized that my choices weren't really about job titles at all.
A doctor helps people heal.
A hair stylist helps people feel confident and cared for.
An actor tells stories and helps people feel emotions.
A researcher asks questions, looks for answers, and never stops learning.

I think our career preferences align with our personalities as much as they do with our interests. They reflect how we see the world, how we connect with others, and what brings us a sense of purpose.

Perhaps that's why certain careers continue to appeal to us, even years later. They reveal something about who we are at our core.

Perhaps our dream careers reveal less about what we wanted to do and more about who we are.

All in all, at days end, I'm glad I had the career I did.

If you could start a completely different career tomorrow, what would it be? And what do you think that answer says about you?

Problem Solving on a Yoga Mat

 

Years ago, I taught problem-solving skills. The model had seven stages, but let's make life easier and focus on four: Understand, Plan, Carry Out, and Look Back.

I found myself thinking about those four steps today during yoga.

I'll admit it. Sometimes I get frustrated and even a little angry with myself when I can't move the way I once did. There are poses that used to be simple and natural that now require modifications, patience, and creativity.

I'll admit something else. Sometimes I get teary.

Not in class, and not because anyone says anything. It's simply the realization that there are things I could do a few months ago that I can't do right now.

Part of me still expects my body to move the way it did before surgery. When it doesn't, I feel frustrated, sad, and occasionally angry with myself.

Then I remember that problem solving begins with understanding reality, not wishing reality were different.

The first step is to understand the situation. Since returning to exercise after my knee replacement, I know my limitations. I can't kneel directly on my right knee, and deep bends and butterflies are still difficult. That's simply reality.

The next step is to make a plan. I bought a flat-bottomed bolster that I place under my shins during kneeling poses so my knees don't touch the floor. I've learned other modifications as well. My instructors are wonderful guides.

Then comes carrying out the plan. Some days I move through the modifications gracefully. Other days, not so much.

Finally, there's looking back and evaluating. Did the strategy work? Should I try something different next time? Is there another way to approach the challenge?

Sometimes it becomes downright comical.

Just when I get myself situated without putting pressure on my right knee, the instructor flows into the next pose and I have to scramble to figure out a completely new strategy.

Today there was a movement where we were asked to stretch to the right. I couldn't comfortably move that way, so I stretched to the left. Suddenly, half the class started following my direction instead of the instructor's. Everyone laughed at the mixed signals.

Some strategies work. Some don't. When they don't, I adjust, rethink, and try something new.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized this isn't just about yoga.

It's how we handle challenges at work, too.

We understand the problem. We create a plan. We try it. Then we evaluate the results and make adjustments. Sometimes the first solution works. Sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes we accidentally lead half the team in the wrong direction. That's what happens and then we pivot and try again. 

Maybe that's where some of our best ideas come from.

I've spent years trying new approaches, seeing what works, learning from what doesn't, and adjusting along the way.

The reality is that healing takes time. The goal isn't to do everything exactly as I did before. The goal is to keep moving forward, even if the path looks different than I expected.

Whether it's on a yoga mat, in a career, or in life, progress rarely comes from doing things exactly as we always have.

Sometimes it comes from being willing to try something different, evaluate the results, and keep moving forward.

The Power of People Who Believe in Us

 

Lately I've been spending time reaching out to libraries, bookstores, community groups, and organizations to see if they might be interested in a Caitlin's Star reading or presentation.

Some have responded.

Many have not.

Like most people, I prefer hearing "yes" or even "no" to hearing nothing at all. Silence can leave you wondering if your email was received, if your message was read, or if you’re being ghosted..

Then something interesting happens.

A friend asks, "Have you thought about contacting this group?"

Someone at yoga mentions a local connection.

An acquaintance suggests a bookstore I hadn't considered.

A neighbor knows someone who knows someone.

And I find myself smiling because for years I taught job seekers the very same lesson.

As a job search coach, I often shared that many jobs are found through networking and relationships rather than online applications alone. Depending on the study, as many as 70 to 80 percent of opportunities are influenced by personal connections.

The principle is simple: people help people.

A conversation leads to an introduction. An introduction leads to a meeting. Meetings lead to an opportunity.

As I work to share Caitlin's Star with new audiences, I realize I need to follow my own advice.

Sometimes we become so focused on sending emails, filling out forms, or checking things off a list that we forget the power of simply talking with people. We forget that the person standing next to us in a yoga class, sitting beside us at a community event, or chatting with us at the gym or doctor’s office may hold the key to a door we didn't even know existed.

But there is something else I've discovered along the way.

The people offering suggestions aren't gaining anything from it. Most have no connection to publishing, bookstores, or libraries. They simply take a few moments to share an idea, make a suggestion, or offer an introduction.

Why?

Because they want me to succeed.

As I think about it, that may be the greatest gift of all.

Yes, networking opens doors. Yes, relationships create opportunities. But beneath all of that is something even more meaningful: people helping people.

The older I get, the more I realize how much kindness exists in the world. Sometimes it arrives as encouragement. Sometimes it arrives as advice. Sometimes it arrives as a few simple words:

"Have you thought about...?"

And behind those words is an even more powerful message:

"I believe in you."

What a wonderful thing it is to discover that so many people are cheering us on.

Whether you're looking for a job, promoting a book, starting a business, volunteering, or pursuing a dream, don't underestimate the value of the people around you. Sometimes the next opportunity doesn't come from a website, an application, or an email.

Sometimes it begins with a conversation.

And sometimes it begins with someone believing in you before you believe in yourself.

What Really Matters

 People spend so much of their early and middle adulthood building careers, proving themselves, achieving, striving, and managing responsibilities. But over time many begin to realize that while work matters, it is not usually the thing they hold closest at the end of the day or the end of life. 

 What remains are relationships, purpose, meaning, moments of joy, people who mattered, animals we loved, places that felt like home, work that aligned with who we really were, and the feeling that our lives meant something beyond productivity. 

 Perhaps the most meaningful parts of our careers are not the titles we held, but the lives we touched, the encouragement we gave, and the differences we made along the way.

One Step at a Time

 

Yesterday, I noticed something small, but it stuck with me.

As I was walking, I realized I didn’t need to look down at every step. For weeks, I have been doing just that, watching carefully and making sure I felt steady. It was part of the healing.

But yesterday felt a little different.

I caught myself looking ahead. Not the whole time, I still glanced down now and then, but enough to notice the shift.

And it made me think about the job search.

In the beginning, it feels a lot like looking down at your feet. You are focused on the next step. Your résumé. Your LinkedIn profile. Networking, maybe for the first time in a long time. Each step takes thought, and sometimes a little courage.

It can feel slow and at times frustrating.

But those small steps are doing more than you think.

Over time, if you keep at it something changes. You get a bit more comfortable and confident. You start to lift your head and think not just about the next step, but about where you are going. The kind of role you want. The kind of company you want to share your skill set with.

You're still careful but you're looking ahead.

I guess that is how progress works, whether it is healing or a job search. It's not one big leap, but a series of small steps that slowly build confidence.

Yesterday, I noticed I was looking ahead and that felt like progress.