The Transformation of a Doubting Thomas: Growing from a cynic to a professional in the corporate world
During his inconsistent first 20 years in a business environment, Tom Dowd learned lessons, both positive and negative, which transformed into shared professional success. The experiences guide readers to differentiate themselves and enable them to work smarter—not harder—to thrive in corporate chaos that, due to the current economic conditions, has taught the employed and unemployed alike to simply try to survive.
Part I: Vision and Mission
My vision for writing this book is to provide a simple-to-follow, written guide for professionals hoping to develop their skills in a multitude of areas including communication, leadership, organization, and networking. The lessons are based on my own professional experiences over more than twenty years in a corporate environment. I want to utilize my experiences gained from work, my membership in Toastmasters International (a group of 270,000 world-wide members looking to improve their communication and leadership skills) and the National Speakers Association, and from the epiphanies I have experienced by teaching a professional development series. In addition to my normal job responsibilities, I started investing time with emerging leaders and experienced managers a couple years ago in an attempt to teach my lessons to others. I want to spread those teachings to a broader audience.
My mission is to create an easy-to-read guide that will motivate and inspire you to take the steps to transform yourself. I want you to improve your professional experiences and increase the positive impacts you have on the people around you. Whether you are working in a small business or a large corporation, you will be able to apply these examples and teachings to your situation. Whether you are a manager, an entry-level employee just joining a company, someone struggling to get through the daily grind, or a professional striving to reach the heights of your career, there will be something in here for you. This book will navigate through key teaching moments from my professional life and offer you a simple reference guide for better organizing your professional life and effectively maneuvering through the complexities of communication, relationship building, and organization.
Introduction: The Roots of My Transformation
Tom has more than 20 years of experience in the financial industry in management and leadership roles, and runs his own business, Thomas Dowd Professional Development & Coaching, as a speaker, author, trainer and coach. Tom developed a series of management presentations into a speaking program called "Powerful Professional Transformation: Unleashing Leadership." The speaking engagements turned into "The Transformation of a Doubting Thomas: Growing from a Cynic to a Professional in the Corporate World," a book detailing Tom's own professional growth based on lessons learned in his career. "Transformation" received honorable mention in the business category at the 2012 New England Book Festival. Tom has since written his second book "From Fear to Success: A Practical Public-speaking Guide."
Tom is currently the vice president of education for Dirigo Toastmasters Club in Belfast. Toastmasters International is a supportive learning environment of more than 270,000 members worldwide looking to improve communication and leadership skills. As a founding member of the club, Tom has been involved in Toastmasters since September 2008. Tom holds advanced communication and advanced leadership certifications with Toastmasters International, including High Performance Leadership certification. In November 2011, Tom was selected as the District 45 Toastmaster of Year, which represents more than 100 clubs in the states of Maine, Vermont, New Hampshire and the three Eastern Canadian Provinces of Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. Tom has also exhibited consistent success when competing at the division (state level equivalent) and district levels in Toastmasters speech contests, which include humorous, inspirational, impromptu and evaluation events. He was the Table Topics Impromptu 2012 District Champion. Additionally, he is a member of the National Speakers Association and a member of the Camden Lions Club.
Tom graduated from the University of Delaware in 1990 with a Communication degree, concentrating on interpersonal and organizational communication.
Tom currently lives in Camden with his wife and three daughters.
My transformation has put me on top of the world. Even in the midst of “The Great Recession,” and working for one of the larger financial institutions in the world, I have never been as happy as I am right now with my professional success, my performance, my positive influence on others around me, and my confidence in my ability to make a difference in the corporate environment. It has not always been that way.
I am currently an executive employed with Bank of America. I was previously with MBNA, before the Bank of America merger. I have been through a significant economic downturn starting in 2008, with intense company media and government scrutiny. None of these challenges were as great as my personal challenge to grow within the company, and to look inward to realize I had control of my own success. As you will see, I have had extensive roadblocks that could have negatively influenced my next steps and overall career. I had to do some soul searching in order to learn to not only remain with the company, but to develop and mature with it. Through it all, I was determined to find a way to make a difference as a leader.
I am still with the same company and feel that I am stronger than ever. I have missed plenty of my self-established professional goals over my twenty-plus years of employment with the same company. However, I have never been more satisfied with my personal growth, my professional capabilities, and my passion for the people I proudly call co-workers, and that satisfaction has nothing to do with compensation (although good compensation doesn’t hurt). I have found constant satisfaction with my newfound effort and positive attitude, even on so-called bad days. I did not wake up one morning and say, “Today is the day I am going to be happy.” I did, however, start to add up certain milestones in my career and compare them to my previous professional goals and timelines. I realized that I needed to take a more active role if I wanted to thrive, not just survive, in my day-to-day professional life. I also came to the realization that I could have a great positive impact on the business and the people around me. In return, my own satisfaction level skyrocketed as I transformed. I had to take accountability if I wanted to make the difference I knew I could.
Although I have worked hard and always considered myself a loyal employee, I have not always been happy. My satisfaction level influenced how I acted and how I was perceived. I was often characterized as having cynical and defensive behaviors. Many thought I had a bad attitude in my professional life. I didn’t believe anything was my fault, including my limited promotions, slow growth, and inconsistent satisfaction level. I am not exactly sure where these personality traits came from. I know through long-term self-awareness and a couple of personality tests, that I am an introverted person who is driven to succeed. Maybe these cynical postures were my personal way to defend against any lack of success or roadblocks. I had a natural excuse built in because it was never my fault. I used my defensive reactions as a protective mechanism to compensate for my shyness and physical reactions.
As an introverted individual, I was not ready for the corporate world. I constantly broke out in hives and blushed when facing tense moments—and my definition of tense was broad. My whole body shook when I had to interact with someone. I would be quick with an answer in order to make the question go away, or I would make a curt comment so I would be done with the interaction quickly. Being such a shy and withdrawn individual kept me from effectively initiating conversations. I could not maintain and sustain personal and professional dialogues in which I could get to know people, and they could get to know me. As a result, I was labeled professionally as one of the following: unapproachable, stuck up, or not a “people person.” In my eyes, this was not the case. However, my eyes were not making my career decisions, writing my performance appraisals, or creating these inaccurate assessments. I, in turn, took on stances and positions that were terse, to the point, and blunt so that I could move on to my next task and assignment. I liked working independently and seemed to be happiest doing my own thing. The problem was that I did like helping customers and grew to appreciate being in leadership positions.
I used all of the excuses as to why I didn’t progress at the speed I thought I should have: A manager didn’t like me. I was not given a fair shot. The other person must have an inside track or must be related to a senior leader. I blamed everyone and everything. My managers must be reading my past reviews and refusing to see my growth. They couldn’t push beyond their old perceptions and see my improvement. I had changed and nobody saw it. I found out over time, I was not changing or evolving—at least not at any perceptible pace—and everyone but me saw it. I lacked the ability to adapt, at least at the speed of business.
Don’t get me wrong. I did advance in my career—more a product of my refusal to fail than an ability to mature into a leader. I was in a variety of roles that included call centers, customer service, management, administration, project management, risk mitigation, and business governance. In a career spanning over twenty years, I now realize that I was in an enviable position that many people would crave. I had variety. I had support from many people I worked with, who had the ability to look past my stubbornness and did not give up on me. They gave me the feedback I didn’t want to hear.
I had the drive to succeed, but first I had a lot to learn about myself. I am not talking about the technical aspects of a job. With a Bachelor of Arts, I was trained in being flexible to learn in different ways about many things. I have never really been concerned about losing my job, at least on a day-to-day basis. I have always worked hard and the job always got done, even if it meant pushing the people who worked for me too hard. Other times, I tried to do everything on my own and refused assistance.
I’ve had some obvious signs over the years that there were different ways to go about my business. First, after earning my first manager role within my first three years at the company, my title of manager was removed after only one year on the job. I was devastated, especially since it was my first legitimate leadership position. I reasoned that it must have been because I never had a day off, I was managing for three months with no assistance after my peer changed jobs, and I was left with over thirty people to look after. I remember vividly coming home from work and saying to my roommates that I should be paid extra for babysitting. My direct reports gave feedback that I was unapproachable, I had favorites, and I could not drive the business.
Remember, nothing was my fault. My computer system was towards the back of my desk; it wasn’t my fault that I looked busy when someone approached from behind. How was I supposed to know they were even there? There were a couple of people who had interests similar to mine, including sports teams. I enjoyed talking to these people more than others. Of course, I would still answer everyone’s questions. The company and business were going through so many changes. My boss sat at his desk and never gave me feedback. How could I drive the business with no direction from my manager? I had to get my feedback from focus groups and the rumor mill. The excuses piled up. Still, it couldn’t be true, could it?
I was given a position in computer programming. I disliked my job. I hated staring at a computer all day with limited interaction with my co-workers. Even though I had been “babysitting,” I had begun to tolerate the interactions enough to miss them. I was an Interpersonal and Organizational Communication major in college. I knew nothing about programming, and I could never get used to sitting in a silent room with people who would rather click away at the keys of a computer than talk to me. It was a lonely position to be in. It was also my first glimpse at self-awareness and my need to change.
The next six months had me peering from the outside looking in. I felt eerily like the character Scrooge looking in at my Christmas past and future at the same time. My old team was in a room next to me, and I watched the new manager run that team. Under the new manager, they were happier, performing better, the business was running smoothly, and I didn’t seem to be missed. The long-term lessons still had quite some time before they would take hold, but the seed was planted. I look back at this time in my career as a milestone.
A change was needed. I had heard that there was a position open in a new Maine office. I was in the Delaware office, where I had been for my first five years. I saw those five years starting to slip away if I didn’t do something differently. I was miserable. I approached the executive who oversaw the entire business and said that I wanted another shot at managing. I asked if he would consider me. He said (paraphrased), “I don’t see you in a senior manager role in the next five years, so I don’t want you managing. You’re free to accept another position in an administrative role to support the business. However, you need to speak to the new manager first for his final decision.”
I approached my potential new manager, who was familiar with my work and background. The first thing he said was something along the lines of, “Do you realize that you are cynical and that that is not healthy for a newly emerging business?” I had heard the term “cynical” many times in my life. However, I had never been labeled cynical. I had a reputation that was now coming to light. First, I was given direct feedback that I apparently needed, badly. Second, I left the meeting with the need to look up the word. I had an idea what it meant, but I needed to put it into context to gain a true understanding of how it related to me. According to dictionary.com, it “suggests a disbelief in the sincerity of human motives.” Ouch! I still had the drive to succeed. I was motivated more than ever. I wasn’t going to let anyone or anything cause me to fail. I was also still fuming over the comment from the first manager, who had said he couldn’t see me in a senior manager role.
I didn’t like being told that I couldn’t do or be something. I left the office and prepared my reasons for why I would be able to make a difference with the new business in Maine. The follow-up meeting was a success… kind of. I could go to Maine in a business support position, and potentially earn my way into a manager position. Managing people was not a right, it was a privilege. I had to earn it again.
I took on the business support role with fervor, determined to prove everyone wrong and that I belonged in a leadership role. I unknowingly ended up becoming a special part of a start-up business. The administrative aspects of the job would also teach me valuable skills in organization, teamwork, partnerships, and building bridges that ended up making me a more effective leader…eventually.
Over time, I did get back into managing people and vowed (kind of) to never return to my first managerial ways. Old habits are hard to break, however; it is often referred to as “muscle memory.” I meandered through many managerial positions. I did learn from some of my past mistakes. I made the effort to speak to more people and drive my business forward.
I was able to push the right buttons—“push” being the operative word. I pushed people hard to achieve the numbers, thus pushing them away. I negatively impacted the people who worked for me even though our goals were being achieved. I was once asked the question, “If you ran through a wall, would people follow?” If they did follow, did they do it because they knew I could take them where they wanted to be and did they believe in my leadership? Or, did they follow me out of fear, or a feeling of obligation to the business? If I ran through a wall, people might have followed—but not for the right reasons.
I didn’t care what they thought of me. I cared about my results. I thought that was what all my managers wanted: results. Cold, hard numbers. I always achieved the expected numbers, but I couldn’t understand why I would get poor feedback relating to my style. I was a communication major in college; I did not understand why my communication style was under constant scrutiny. It took me many more years to learn that I could get even better results by caring for people. I revisited the question often as I truly looked towards my transformation: “If you ran through a wall, would people follow?” I knew what the answer should be; I just had not acted in a way that made people want to follow me.
I am not sure how, but I was finally promoted to a position in which I would manage other managers. This was a position I had longed for and thought I deserved much earlier in my career. As you can tell from the last statement, defensive people have difficulty letting go—it couldn’t have been my fault.
Part of the prestige of the position was having my first office with a door. I think subconsciously I was probably happy that I could shut the world out and finally get some work done. I still knew I needed to do some self-reflection, because my work was to motivate people. I was not naïve enough to think I could succeed without changing at least a little bit. I opened the cabinet door in my new office for the first time and saw a sign that read, “Change is inevitable, growth is optional.” This became another milestone in my career. There was no author noted—just a simple set of six words.
There are very few short and simple quotes in life that have hit me as hard as this one. I have changed offices many times in my career and have never moved without this small piece of paper. With that simple quote, I was given a lesson in staying grounded. Everything changes. I had to ask myself, “Was I evolving with the business? Was I adapting to my people’s needs? Was I making myself better and stronger each day? When I was in the throes of tough times, was I strong enough to learn and lead?” I began to see the light—a light I would need years later.
In the middle of a summer vacation seven hundred miles away from home, my wife’s aunt came across the yard and announced that it was interesting that my company had just been bought. My relaxation instantly vanished, followed by a flood of stress and worry. I had no idea what was going to happen to me or my company. The surprise announcement became another milestone in my career. It was more of an unintended crossroad. I had no desire to leave the company. Besides, this company was all I knew. I’d graduated college on a Friday and started at the company the very next Monday. This company was the culture I had grown to know and love. Even cynical Tom used the word “love” in this case; I loved what I’d invested so much time in. I was given very little information about the buyout. There were even fewer answers to my questions over the last couple of days of vacation, when I spoke to people in the office.
I came back from vacation and began the new journey. I failed to mention here that during this merger announcement, I was starting a new job. It was given to me a week before the announcement. I was told it was a “ninety-day task force” overseeing reporting and incentives. What was once great news now caused great angst when I thought about the new role. Not only was I on a task force, I was in an administrative role that could be seen as duplicative when comparing the two entities. I was confident in my own abilities, but the unknown still frightened me.
The flood of change came quickly. The new personal growth moments came to me fast and furious. There was a lot of work ahead to merge the companies together. I was an extremely hard worker with a significant depth of internal business knowledge, so I knew that would be a plus if I used it effectively. However, I was also in a position that could be seen as redundant in some eyes or, alternatively, an asset in other decision makers’ eyes. I had choices to make.
I spent years in college as part of my major concentrating my studies on organizational structures and cultures. I learned the impact of significant changes on individuals and companies. I was starting to see the value of my studies in play and knew that I could make a difference with respect to my own acceptance of the new world, and possibly get others on board, too. I saw the positive potential of a fresh start.
I built bridges, learned the company culture, and sold the merits of the new company. I was buying into the new culture earlier than others. The previous culture had been perceived by some as elitist. It should have been. We were great at what we did. However, the “we” was now part of the whole “us” of the company. Cultural integration was necessary to transition effectively. The new company was almost ten times larger than the previous. In fact, an executive mentioned to me that you could virtually hide and go unnoticed in a company of this size. I didn’t know how to react. I could go into survival mode and try to hide in the enormity. However, I could also go on a quest to meet the 270,000 other employees, learn about the company culture and mission, and build bridges so we all could win. Working smarter, networking more effectively, and creating my own opportunities was key to my survival.
I started to work with people from the “other” company and found that they were part of the greater whole. As time went on, the leaders who resisted change or forced their own culture on others fell behind. The leaders who merged the best of both worlds thrived. I was starting to like this new company, recognizing that if I performed well, things would take care of themselves. I had a fresh slate of people who couldn’t get their hands on my personnel file—both the real file and the fictional one I’d created in my mind based on my perception of others’ opinions of me. I had a full runway to prove myself. I learned over time that every day was a clean slate. I just carried baggage with me unnecessarily for far too long.
I joined a local Toastmasters International club. The club was chartered almost a year prior but had never met. For selfish reasons, I saw the personal challenge of getting something new up and running, and had been looking for a way to make a name for myself as a leader. Besides, I thought I could boost my résumé. I no longer had anyone I directly worked with in the local office. In the new company, we were spread all over the country and all over the world, and spent a lot of time on conference calls. Toastmasters provided me with a little extra face-to-face personal interaction that I thirsted for in the newer culture. In a deeper reality, I needed to communicate more effectively if I wanted to move forward with my career. I had no idea how much Toastmasters would change my life and career.
I felt this strange selfless need to teach others around me, and was enjoying the leadership of the position. The boost on my résumé was nice, but not as important as the difference I could make. I had no formal influence over others, so that leadership was coming from the heart. I also felt I was gaining confidence in my own communication style. I wanted to help people around me hone their own communication skills. If I could work with some of them, I could help them tell their stories better, increase their own confidence, and be a small part of their success.
The mission of Toastmasters International is “to provide a mutually supportive and positive learning environment in which every individual member has the opportunity to develop oral communication and leadership skills, which in turn foster self-confidence and personal growth.” The fact that the mission caught my attention in such a selfless manner pleasantly surprised me. I think the protective cocoon of a smaller group of individuals all working at their own pace toward the same goals inspired me. It became therapeutic, easing my own anxiety, worry, and stress. It became an outlet to turn my internal and intimate stories into a collective diary of narratives to share with the masses. I was often seen as all business in my demeanor. I used this new communication channel as a potential outlet to allow me to share the personal side and warmth I had not been overtly exhibiting over so many years.
In the past, if I was in a room full of people I barely knew, I would freeze. I typically kept to myself or stayed close to people I knew well. I called this my Cocktail Party Syndrome. With Toastmasters, I was slowly coming out of my shell. I was learning to be myself—and enjoying it. I began to ask more questions of people, which allowed me to engage in the conversation and allowed them to open up to me. I was learning the benefits of two-way communication. People began to know more about me through my speeches, and saw that I was defining my personality. I learned about the personal side of our club members through their speeches.
Toastmasters helped me on the professional side. Although I originally joined just to pad my résumé, I was starting to see what motivated people, interested people, and frustrated people because I was interacting more effectively and communicating with a new confidence. Toastmasters was teaching me to relate.
I gained enough confidence to push my limits. I enjoyed the competition of Toastmaster contests. I knew it would improve my ability to prepare for stressful situations, like contests, and push myself further. In the Spring 2010 International Speech Contest, I wrote a very personal speech about my dog. I decided a couple of days before my club competition to put on a hat with a dog face on the front of it. I instantly saw a smile every time I placed it on my head. Besides audience reactions, I had people tell me stories about their own dogs and cats. I was learning more about conversation starters. It was so much more interesting than the weather (living in Maine, I always get the question, “Has it snowed yet?”). More importantly, the people I had worked with for so many years commented that they had never seen me like this—and that was a good thing. I was changing others’ perceptions of me simply by being myself.
I was doing something I had once thought was impossible. I previously blamed my managers for their inability to see past the old me, certain that I didn’t need to improve my communication skills. I knew somewhere deep down that I was wrong, but did not have the courage to take the actions necessary to change. Toastmasters became my public diary of stories I hadn’t realized I wanted or needed to share.
I had been with Toastmasters for about eighteen months and had been involved in multiple contests before I chose to share a speech for the first time with my wife, Ellen. My wife is my confidante, my constant strength, and my shoulder to lean on. Yet, the hesitancy to have her see me so vulnerable frightened me. Now, I think that I didn’t want to disappoint her or have her see me trying to push myself beyond my comfort zone. It probably didn’t help that I mentioned her in just about every speech I wrote.
She is a wonderful storyteller and an inspiration. Maybe, a small part of me was trying to have her accept me just a little more. My conservative personality held me back until I realized as I progressed further into that particular contest that I needed her. She had always told me she believed in me; I knew she did, but couldn’t push myself to do the same. The first time I ever gave the speech to her, I compressed a seven-minute speech into five minutes by talking too quickly. I have never been so nervous, even in front of hundreds of people.
The shortened speech wasn’t the only gaffe. There was a particular statistic I typically give about saving the lives of millions of dogs and cats. I was so anxious that I left the letter “s” off the word “cats.” Ellen couldn’t stop laughing. It was a priceless scene. She wasn’t laughing at me—she was just wondering why I only wanted to save the life of one cat. She was telling me that it was all right to make mistakes and laugh at myself. She also was teaching me how important it was to enjoy the moment. She had opened my eyes further. I knew I needed her more than ever. She had always been there offering support and saying, “Just tell me what you want me to do, and I will do it to help you.” This was a simple phrase that needed a simple action to prove it. I now turn to her more and more in life, not just for speeches.
I am not a CEO writing my memoir. I am a simple person who has learned simple lessons in life that I want to share. I have learned lessons that probably took far too long for me to grasp. The lessons I want to impart to you may not be complex, but they are valuable. There are times when we need to learn things for ourselves in order to make a truly lasting impression. I want to provide you with some of the most lasting impressions that have come to me through my professional interactions. I want to share the mistakes I’ve made, and share the common-sense teachings that were not so common at the time when they smacked me in the face.
I do not have my master’s degree or doctorate in inspirational messaging. What I do have is a lifetime of hesitation in making the most of an opportunity. I often searched for an underlying motive. I am a cynic who has transformed into someone bursting to share his lessons with others who may not believe in the potential to change. I have been slowly turning from a “Doubting Thomas” to someone who believes in the ability of people to transform their negativity into something positive.
When I inadvertently became the teacher after all of these years, I was truly an advocate for self-change and was sharing my stories. I was not putting on an act. I began to truly feel like the person I wanted to be. I started to share my mistakes and people thanked me. Then it turned into sharing my accomplishments, and I saw how people wanted to take a similar path. I was being quoted in my own performance appraisals as being a role model.
I still had people giving me advice, and for the first time in my life, I was actively listening. I wanted to prove to everyone that I could do whatever I set my mind to—one person at a time. What I found was that I could have a larger impact on many people if I did it the right way. I was learning that my impact was reaching further than I thought. I could impact my small world or the large world. Whether you are working in a big company, a small office, or working from home, if you are working with others, you need to invest time in your own development in order to better yourself. This book is intentionally simple and is intended to serve as a reminder of all the great things I have learned in my professional life. I want you to use this book as one way to share my transformation with others—one reader at a time. Maybe you will share your lessons with others, too, when you are done reading it.
Event Date
Address
United States