Career Geography, Part 5 (It is finished, y'all)

             In June 2011, I cruised into the Bay Area ready to take on an interesting new job.  My time conducting reviews of Prosthetic Services across the country had given me an idea of how to create “perfect” Prosthetic Service should I ever return to a facility to work.  Additionally, I was looking for what my next step would be as I had surpassed my 5-year and 10 -year plans as well as my ultimate career goals and truthfully did not know what direction I was headed.  I felt like I wanted to return to a facility where I could make meaningful change, but I wasn’t entirely convinced that I hadn’t romanticized working in the field as I had been removed from that environment for at least five years. 

                In 2008 when I was still in New England, I had applied for the Executive Career Field Candidate Development Program (ECFCDP) to train to become an executive in a medical facility, I wasn’t selected, and I was not happy about it.  I couldn’t understand what had happened as I had been on a roll, getting selected for programs and positions each time I applied.  My very wise friend, Marion Felix-Jenkins, told me to stop pouting about it and ask for feedback.  When I countered that I was not pouting, she reminded me that she was the mother of three teenagers and, therefore, familiar with what pouting looked like and literally pushed me out the door of her office, telling me to call the chair of the interview panel, who was the Director of the Boston VA, just down the road.

                I called him and he as kind enough to agree to give me feedback.  His first question was, “Dustin, why do you want to be an Associate Director?”  My seasoned reply was, “Um…what do you mean?”  He repeated, “Why do you want to be an Associate Director?”  It slowly dawned on me that I had no answer.  He said, “Is it because it’s the next level and it’s what you think you’re supposed to do?”  I replied, “Well…uh…”  He smiled and said, “That’s what we thought.  Listen, you’re very bright, your resume is impressive, you interviewed very well, you are an exceptional candidate.  We just didn’t feel as if you knew why you were there other than that’s where you thought you were supposed to be.”

                It was hard to hear, and I pushed back a little, saying, “What’s wrong with taking the next step?”  He smiled again and said, “Listen, Dustin, you’re how old?  38? And you’re already a GS-14 and working in a VISN-level position.  Let’s say we sent you forward and you were selected and then appointed to be an Associate Director before you’re 40, what then?  You’ll have at least 20 years before you can retire.  There are only a few levels after this.  What’s your hurry?  Why don’t you enjoy where you are?  You should focus on becoming so proficient in your job that the next level will present itself in due time.  What are you trying to prove?”  Well, he had me pegged six ways to Sunday and I thanked him for his honesty.  I took his advice.  After working with Associate Directors through the review program we created, I felt like I needed to return to a facility to have an impact.  Palo Alto is where I decided to put my plan into action.

                When I got to Palo Alto, I knew they had issues in their Prosthetic Service, with delayed orders (orders that were more than five days old) and orders trapped in a pending status sometimes for months on end.  On my first day, we ran the report and they had about 400 delayed orders and 1800 pending orders (some of which had been in pending status for 18 months).  I started with talking to each of my staff, asking them what they expected from me, telling them what I expected from them and assuring them we could create a program where not only were there no delayed orders but where most orders could be fulfilled within 24 hours.  They looked at me like I was crazy, but it was a look I had gotten used to seeing, so we just boogied on. 

                I won’t bore you with the details of the procurement process but within 30 days we had no delayed orders and within 6 months we had cleared up all the pending orders as well, while at the same time receiving around 350 new orders every day.  And we did this with the exact same staff that was there when I got there, minus my deputy chief who retired after only three days with me when I shared my expectations for someone in his position.  By the end of the first year, we had gone from one of the worst programs in the country to being selected as the 2012 Prosthetic and Sensory Aids Service of the Year for the entire nation! Can I tell you we celebrated?  I don’t think I have ever been prouder of myself or other people.

                Once my service was ‘fixed’ and running well, I asked for the opportunity to get experience as Acting Associate or Deputy Director.  I was granted the opportunity on a regular basis and I really enjoyed the operational aspects of the job and the ability to have an influence across many services as opposed to just my own.  In January 2013, I was offered the opportunity to serve a detail as Acting Associate Director for almost 3 months.  The Deputy Director had left to become Director at another facility and the Associate Director became the Deputy Director.  During this time, I turned over the running of my service to my Deputy and functioned as an executive, overseeing a number of different services and programs.  I really thrived in that work and by the end of my detail, I knew I wanted to move into an executive position. 

I applied for the job and made it to the Top Three, but ultimately did not get selected.  When the Director brought me in to let me know I hadn’t been selected, I asked for feedback on what I needed to work on to be the successful candidate should I apply for other positions.  She gave me great feedback, but I initially had a little case of ‘sour grapes’ thinking, "Who is this yahoo that stole my job?"  Admittedly it wasn’t a mature line of thinking, but it’s what I thought in my deepest heart.

Of course, when I eventually met the man who was selected (Walt Dannenberg) and who would ultimately be my new boss, I understood why I wasn’t selected; he had a skill set that I did not.  I literally went to the Director after the first month and said, “I totally understand why you chose him.  I would have done the very same thing.”  I am able to admit when I am bested and over the next year I learned much under his mentorship.  Fortunately, I was still asked to act whenever I was needed, and I felt good to have his trust.

I didn’t apply for any further executive positions, unsure of what to do about moving forward.  It had thrown me for a loop and The Dad’s second-guessing my abilities (due to not getting the job) wasn’t helping me stay in a positive head-space.  I kept working with my service and was selected for a national leadership program called the Excellence in Government Fellowship, a multi-agency program sponsored through the Partnership for Public Service.  I gained many new insights into my leadership style as well as how to continue to grow as a leader.  I felt re-invigorated by this program and the changes I was seeing in myself and I started applying for positions again in the spring of 2014. 

I had decided to be very pragmatic about the job search and to not apply for positions in a location where I didn’t think I would be happy living.  I wasn’t going to apply for every position in the system.  I knew as a gay man, who hoped to one day marry, that I needed to steer clear of the South and parts of the Midwest.  As someone who had experienced enough snow to last a lifetime, I also avoided New England, the northern parts of the Midwest and whatever it is we call Colorado/Wyoming/Utah.  That didn’t leave too many locations, but there were enough opportunities that I was able to apply for several positions (Nashville, San Diego) but came in second to the Executive Assistant to the Director at both locations.

However, this time, I reached out to the Director in San Diego and asked if he would mind giving me feedback.  I had asked my Director in Palo Alto for feedback, but only because I knew her.  I didn’t think it was something that could be asked of a Director who didn’t know me outside of the interview process.  Fortunately, Jeff Gehring (the Director) agreed and offered some excellent and unique advice, the most important being “Make sure you interview your interviewers at the same time they are interviewing you.  You aren’t there with your hand out begging for a job, you are there to see if the fit is the right one.  Sometimes it comes down to fit.  Do you want to work with this team and do they want to work for you?”  He explained that I wasn’t the right fit for San Diego, but I was talented, and he knew I would eventually find the right team.

When Long Beach was advertised, I thought it would be a great opportunity.  I hadn’t planned on moving to Southern California, but it just felt like the right fit after I researched the facility.  I remembered his advice to interview them.  I remembered the advice I had gotten on several occasions (keep your answers short) and was very efficient with my words.  I also, cut myself some slack and when I blanked on an answer in my interview, I didn’t panic and was honest and said, “My mind just went blank.  Will you let me start that answer again?” and then I nailed it. 

When I drove out of the parking lot of the facility, I noticed they were building a Dunkin’ Donuts almost across the street from the Long Beach VA, the first official DD in California.  I took it as a sign.  And I was right.  All my preparation and training and guidance from mentors was put to effective use and I was offered the job as Assistant Director of the Long Beach VA, a healthcare system with 3,000 employees, five campuses and a $600 million budget.  It was almost too much to process.  My redneck self was about to become an executive with the VA, only 16 years into my career, having far surpassed my wildest career goals and dreams from when I was a temporary summer intern.

Like the Beverly Hillbillies I moved to (just south of) Beverly Hills, on the edge of Orange County, in the shadow of Disney and about six inches from the Pacific Ocean.