A live online keynote experience
Here’s how I intend to continue sharing my passion for safety with you in safe, new and innovative way!
Return to Work
When we take a little time to allow ourselves to sit and “miss” anything or anyone – the upside is that we are reminded of just how much we loved what is no longer. I am filled with gratitude that I love my work as much as I do, and I remain optimistic, always, especially during this pandemic that what is now missing will soon return – but, in the meantime? Pivot. Pivot. Pivot.
What has this unprecedented time allowed you to explore or create? I have taken this time to work on the video series I have wanted to develop for years. The book I have always wanted to write is coming along – slowly but very surely, and don’t even get me started on my “starter” – my sourdough game is strong! But, we are humans. We need interaction – to connect. While the abrupt “stop work order” on my travel certainly threw me for a loop, I am doing my best to enjoy the extended time on the ground. Isn’t that what we’re all trying to do right now? Make lemonade – more likely to be spiked, as of late ?
I don’t have children, and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, yet still I am constantly tuned into the news that is flooded with talk of return to school and return to work. Discussions around safety, trust, and risk have me feeling that I have more to say than ever before about safety and our responsibility to one another – to protect each other. Considering the fact that I feel like I have so much I want to share with you, it’s also painfully obvious to me that I’m going to need to get comfortable with speaking from a different stage.
The world we’re trying to work through and in, is one we’ve never seen before. While the hazards and risks of just simply existing have drastically changed, the message remains the same.
So today, tomorrow and for the foreseeable future, I will work from home with feelings of deep gratitude towards anyone and everyone out there on the front lines working to keep us safe. I will work on staying optimistic, while keeping those who have suffered great loss in my heart and prayers. I will work on practicing patience, knowing how fortunate I am to have a safe place to weather the storm. I will work on trusting the universe, and myself – knowing that this isn’t the first time my life feels like it’s been turned on its side, and it won’t be the last. I will do what it takes to continue to do the work that I love – work that fuels my soul and my spirit. Last, but not least, I will work on figuring out how to make sure you don’t forget that your safety remains my priority… even if my stage has turned into a sofa.
Pivot. Pivot. Pivot.
It’s hard to know what to say, write, and feel about the National Day of Mourning this particular year when it seems like every day has been just that. Since COVID-19, and more recently the massacre here, in my home province of Nova Scotia, the experience of mourning seems constant.
Honestly, as of late, I am waking and choosing the peaceful piano playlist on Spotify over social media, and CBC… at least until noon. I figure the bad news will be there then, whether I’m ready for it or not.
It feels unfamiliar to communicate to you in this tone – one of some sadness and helplessness. The words don’t feel like mine when I write them. My feelings don’t feel like mine as I’m feeling them, but I suspect that when we are living in a world we can barely recognize, foreign emotions are to be expected.
While the magnitude of loss and suffering feel insurmountable in this moment in time – the collective gratitude and goodness continues to conquer. I see it every day. Acts of kindness performed from a distance, making us feel closer. Music being made and funds being raised to support where it’s needed – which is everywhere. Candles being lit, music everywhere, hockey sticks being tapped (a truly Canadian way to show support) and pots being banged each evening – rallying for our front line workers who are tirelessly tackling this pandemic.
Heroes. That’s what they are, these brave people who are leaving their families at home and working tirelessly to protect us, hoping to return safely. The reality is that in these valiant efforts to answer the call of duty to save lives, many are still being lost.
We hear it everyday, “we are all in this together” – and it’s true. We will celebrate with a hug when we are once again allowed to embrace our loved ones.
For today, on this Day of Mourning, I will hold close to my heart those who have not returned home from work. I will pray for those who have been left waiting for the hug that will never happen.
For today, I will leave a candle burning in the window throughout the day and the night in honor of those who aren’t coming home, and to light the way for those who are.
For today, I will bang my pot on the porch at 7 pm for the safe return home of our frontline workers. I don’t know if banging pots on a Day of Mourning is the appropriate thing to do – but I do know that in a time where we may feel at a loss in knowing what feels “right” – we still can do something, and that’s not nothing.
I love going to work from home in Halifax – especially when I get to visit with my friends at Exxon Mobil! Over the past several years I’ve had the opportunity to share my story with them at many of their excellent Safe Starts and other internal Health and Safety events. This is a company that strives for constant improvement. Celebrating what is working well and then building upon it to make it better. Each time I join them and sit and listen in on new safety developments I am always so impressed at their ability to keep their messaging consistent, yet new and exciting.
The last time I worked with Exxon Mobil the push was on to ‘Finish Strong’. Meaning, even when the day is done, or a project is winding down – we don’t let our guard down – we stay the course to ensure that #nobodygetshurt.
While preparing my message this time, I noticed they have added to their powerful message of Finish Strong. Now, it’s “start slow to finish strong” – I love this!
A placard given to me by my late Grammy Mullin hangs on my wall. It reads “the Hurrier I go the Behinder I get”, an ever-present reminder of my very special grandmother, and also to slow down. It was the perfect accompaniment to complement my message for the morning.
I grabbed it off my wall as I walked out the door -and wrapped it up to protect it (which is what we should with things that are precious, dear to us and irreplaceable, right – like ourselves! How’d ya like my PPE metaphor;) and I brought it to share as a reminder that going fast rarely saves time. In fact, rushing often causes stress, dangerous situations and sometimes results in injury.
Safety doesn’t have to be complicated – Grammy Mullin wasn’t – she knew that simply slowing down in life was one of the best ways to stay happy, safe, and focused on what matters most – being present and healthy to spend time with the people you’re really working for – your family!!
The National Day of Mourning was last month. At the time, I shared some reflections.
Over the years I’ve also thought about this, and other, “Days of…”, and how they do a very good job of raising awareness of a particular issue on a particular day. But the real work comes after the Day – and every day.
On the National Day of Mourning, I was flying to Ottawa feeling grateful for the dinner I had planned with Dee, one of my dearest friends from university – the kind of friend that you’re already all caught up with no matter how much time has passed between visits.
We had plans to toast a new baby, new love, and mostly the gratitude that after all of these years, and busy lives, we still manage to make these impromptu dinners happen more often than not.
In the midst of libations and laughs, out of the corner of my eye and my ear I see the bartender standing on the top step of a ladder to reach a bottle high up. The ladder isn’t all that high, and this everyday action may not even have registered had I not heard the co-worker caution her about the safety of being on the top rung. She responded somewhat jokingly, “What are you, the safety police.”
Her co-worker responded “Well yes, I’m on the JOHS committee, but that’s not the point. It’s because I care.”
Because I care…
My mile a minute chatter came to an abrupt halt. Dee, knowing me very well, recognized the significance of this.
I couldn’t really believe what I thought I had seen and heard, so as I sometimes do, I jumped into their conversation. “Did you just ask her to step down from that ladder and cite the reason as caring?”, I asked.
Yes, I had heard right.
One of the questions I am asked most often is how to communicate discomfort about a situation, or to call out plainly unsafe behaviour to a co-worker in a manner that will be well received.
While I struggle with the fact that people still take offence when someone makes the time to reach out in an effort to ensure their safety, I know that it’s still a reality.
The question that I have struggled to respond to confidently for so many years had now been answered. This was an interaction between two people that while very light in tone, held significant weight.
There are (and will) continue to be disagreement about what constitutes appropriate safety measures in the workplace. Personal safety is just that – personal. But while ideas may differ, regulations are in place and they are there for a reason – and when the time comes that someone needs to be reminded, try using “Because I care”.
Today is a day to remember. A day to give pause in recognition of so many who lost their lives at work. Those who died making a living. For me, it also signifies, and calls to mind, all of the details of the day that my life as I knew it changed. I was one of the lucky ones who survived what countless others did not – I didn’t return home at the end of the work day, but I did eventually go home.
What could have been my ending, turned out to be a new beginning. For that I am eternally grateful. As I sit quietly this morning – the Day of Mourning – sipping my coffee, I give pause and I think of my own family, knowing that no matter how many years pass, the day that changes your life forever will always feel like yesterday… if you’ll allow yourself to revisit. If you can summon up the strength to go there.
I believe today, it’s important to make that journey, as it is through reflection that we not only remember the past, but we also reset for the future and consider the role we plan to play in making our world a safer place to work. A place where getting hurt or killed at work is in no way part of the job.
While mourning and hope aren’t typically thought to go hand and hand, making time and space for our grief is a continuous part of the coping process – a process that will for many, never end. It is my thought that hope often times defeats helplessness. That taking positive action towards preventing what we failed to do in the past may not lessen the pain, but can offer us purpose.
Today, there are services taking place in communities nationwide to commemorate the Day of Mourning. We can also choose to honour those lives lost by visiting a space within ourselves where we truly think about our actions, and commit to improving on an aspect in our lives that directly relates to safety. We can all do “onethingsafer”.
You may not know it, but you are already wearing the most effective and powerful PPE money can’t buy.
It’s your instinct. You’re born with it. An employer will not hand it over to you, you can’t purchase it at a store, and you don’t need a lesson in learning how to use it. Your instinct is one of the most powerful pieces of PPE you’ll never take off.
Yet sometimes we choose not to use it.
Why is that? Personal protective equipment isn’t about protecting machinery, infrastructure, or profit. It’s about protecting people. And regardless of your work experience or industry, everyone comes to work with this same piece of equipment.
Think about what would happen if we paused when our instinct kicked in. How many times have you said to yourself, “I knew that was going to happen” but only after something, often times unpleasant, unplanned, or unfavorable actually happens? If our gut is sending us strong signals, why do we choose to ignore them – to hit the override button and continue on?
Is it lack of confidence in our ability or judgement? Are we overly optimistic? Or, is the powerful and human condition of believing that the bad things can happen (but just not to us), driving us to ignore the voice that doesn’t make a sound but speaks volumes – our own.
I can’t answer these questions for you, but I can suggest that you ask them of yourself. And here’s what might happen if you developed a closer relationship to your instincts; the more you listen to them, the harder they become to ignore. The harder they become to ignore, the more helpful they become to you. Your instincts can keep you safe.
As champions for safety, our role is to listen to our own instincts and to respect the instincts of those around us. Let’s try trusting our instincts as #onethingsafer.