I used to think professionalism meant staying quiet, even when something wasn’t right, which was the expectation. As a manager, you stay on task and ignore the noise; otherwise, you are just creating more of it.

But then I got labeled.
“Hard to work with.”
“Doesn’t know what they’re doing.”
“Not a good manager.”

It turns out that those labels usually came from individuals who were more focused on climbing the ladder and sabotaging others than collaborating, while simply being inept (hint: this is largely why these types of strategies are leveraged to obfuscate and hide ability, failures, lack of productivity, output, accomplishment, etc.).

In reality, I always listened. I welcomed ideas. But when a suggestion risked derailing systems or adding long-term strain, I offered thoughtful alternatives. Not the fastest route, but always the proactive one. Yes, it could mean more upfront effort, usually on my team or myself. The payoff was sustainability, clarity, and fewer fires to fight later.

Some people valued that approach. We built great things together.
Others? They preferred to sidestep and report me as “difficult” for not immediately doing whatever they said or dictated. Attrition through threat in a fashion, something nobody should have to deal with in a professional environment, is the childish immaturity of “do what I tell you or I’ll make something up and tell on you”.

One example? A project manager was tasked with the actual technical implementation of a new JIRA deployment. I explained that our workflows weren’t standard; our team didn’t just move software through the SDLC. We maintained, patched, supported, and more. They ran to their boss and claimed I was being “uncooperative, difficult.” What they lacked was the ability, or the willingness, to understand the complexity of organizational workflows, which was apparent in the final implementation. Wonder if they ever fixed that? (rhetorical question)

Second example? Weekend chaos.
I received a call on a Saturday, production deployment in progress. The dev team hadn’t coordinated with a DBA from my group, so I was left trying to understand how a critical database change had been made and pushed across multiple regions. Naturally, I asked questions.
The simple act of requesting clarity of violated protocols:
– Separation of duties
– Compliance standards
– Change tracking requirements

The development manager who contacted me? They hung up mid-call; it was a very short call, as they hung up as soon as I started asking questions. Later, reporting that I was “difficult to work with.”

Fast forward: Turns out a developer had executed untracked database changes across regions… thanks to having more access than they should’ve ever had.

The dev manager was a manager, I was a Director, and this was insubordination and unprofessional conduct, yet I caught the flak for it as being difficult to work with.

As the Director overseeing databases, data security, compliance, and audits, it was my responsibility to ask questions. The immediate issue was going to get resolved, but so was the deeper problem.

The second example and the manager’s disrespect, the protocol violations, and ultimately, my CEO, who I reported to, framing me as the problem, was the line.

That moment didn’t just break trust. It clarified the truth; I was being undermined (by my team), I was never asked circumstances, instead the approach was that I was the problem regardless of the circumstances.

It was at this point that I left, metaphorically that is.

I always treated politics and backstabbing as noise, never letting them cloud my judgment or sour interactions.

The same development manager would complain to their boss, and others because I would be on my iPad during meetings. I had a nice Apple keyboard for that thing, with one complaint: it did not last nearly as long as my iPad has; however, it was all smaller, lighter, and perfect for taking meeting notes, which then would conveniently sync with my phone for quick reference, etc.

The comedy of it is that development folks would sit in meetings playing video games.

I never said a word, as it would not have made a difference in the personal attacks upon myself, only creating more noise, so instead I did my job and accomplished many things that largely went unnoticed. Why unnoticed? Because I typed too loudly, I used bullet points, I take my iPad to meetings, I ask questions, I didn’t know what I was doing, I wasn’t a good manager, I was difficult to work with, and so much more.

Let’s not forget about complaining if they walked by and my office door was closed, meaning I was on a call or actively engaged in the performance of work. Yet they never knocked, they never looked at my calendar, and they never scheduled a meeting or picked up the phone. Why would that be? (rhetorical question)

Fond memories of a dysfunctional work environment and toxic culture; however, this is how we learn and grow.

In hindsight, this was a great learning experience; however, one that I should have opted out of much sooner than I did, but which prompted me to extricate myself from another organization with the same proclivities, rather quickly, later in my career.

It would be remiss not to share how the departure unfolded.

I quietly cleaned out my office, wrapped up projects I cared about, with no ulterior motive, just closure on my terms. Once decided, yes, I did this over time.

On the day I’d chosen, I submitted high-priority service tickets, distributing tasks to my direct reports, along with systems and security teams. I directed them to lock and disable all of my accounts immediately. I tendered my resignation, logged a vacation day, and left.

I provided two weeks’ notice, explicitly stating I would not log into any systems.

The arrangement made sense for my liability; they had, after all, stated desire to have me report to someone who had once said they’d fire me “the first chance they get.” I shared a managerial tier with this individual at the time. I responded professionally with a polite smile and walked away. Just more noise.

I contemplated both the threat from a couple of years prior, with the actions of his direct reports used as fodder to feed my boss, as already discussed, and it seemed the best.

Ironic, the accolades in reviews every year, then being so difficult to work with. Ignoring noise doesn’t mean that you don’t pay attention. I still have those documents to this day.

In any role, the noise can bog you down, drain your focus, and shape your trajectory, but only if you let it. Ignoring the noise isn’t denial, it’s discernment. It’s paying close attention without letting the static take hold, and it is very enlightening when people think you aren’t paying attention.

Some may ask what about my boss at the time, the only statement I will make is that it should’ve been obvious to any seasoned manager in regards to what was going on, but hey, what do I know? I didn’t know what I was doing, and it would have made no difference; the noise dictated such loud and clear.

Maybe I’ll start breaking these little career highlights into weekly segments mixed with my journey of attaining a Master’s Degree in Data Analytics, after just completing an updated BS in Data Analytics, with honors.

Aren’t those accomplishments surprising for someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing and isn’t very technical?

Maybe the next topic will be about my lack of situational awareness. It’ll be a good one, there is no doubt.