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Can We Have Fun When We Work In Deadly Serious Jobs?

Reflections --
By: Leslie Yerkes

We live in serious times. At least when it comes to air travel. Like many of you, I travel a lot. And, from personal experience, I can tell you that since 9-11, we have become deadly serious about our safety. At airports throughout America, I regularly encounter National Guard members armed with M-16s, increased staffing at security checkpoints, and additional levels of examinations that include frisking, turning on your laptop, and checking your belt and shoes. Needless to say, these additional security measures have added hours to our travel time and taken some of the joy out of flying.

Until recently, I had assumed that because of these added security precautions, the days of flying as a fun experience were gone forever. Then I flew through Sea-Tac International Airport out of Seattle, Washington.

I hadn't been to Seattle since I interviewed John Yokoyama from Pike Place Fish for my book Fun Works: Creating Places Where People Love to Work. So when I walked into Sea-Tac, I was expecting more of what I'd been experiencing since that fateful September day - long lines, surly security employees, and passengers unhappily resigned to enduring an important process whose sole purpose was to keep them safe and alive. What I experienced, however, was something that has changed my outlook on the entire process of how security could be.

Sea-Tac has the expected - multiple check-in lines replete with metal detectors, conveyor belts, and X-ray machines for carry-on articles. Today's additional security levels include routine use of hand-held scanners, multiple observers, and random selection for frisking.

The unexpected at Sea-Tac begins with a 'greeter'. Someone not unlike the person who meets you at the door of your neighborhood Wal-Mart and welcomes you to the store. The role of greeter at Sea-Tac is three-fold - to direct passengers to the fastest line, to use their behavioral training to assess potential security risks, but most of all to make the experience less threatening and more human. Sea-Tac's greeter smiled and made friendly comments to passengers and coworkers alike. And while the greeter conveyed a warm feeling, he also conveyed the sense of control so that you felt both watched-out for and watched-over at the same time. The results of the greeter's efforts produced a rapidly moving line filled with people who felt comfortable that things were under control and that their safety was being handled by serious, yet friendly, people.

The second unexpected thing I experienced at Sea-Tac was something I've come to think of as 'The Pike Place Chorus'. When I purchased a whole salmon from the salesman on the floor of Pike Place fish, he turned and threw it back to the guy who was going to dress it for me to take home. And when the salesman turned and threw my salmon, he called out in a loud, sing-song voice, "Pieces and Fillets for Cleveland". When the dresser caught my salmon, he, too, called out, "Pieces and Fillets for Cleveland". That's the Pike Place Chorus. At Sea-Tac, when individuals are selected for an additional security check, the more intense frisking, the security person on the line calls out, "Female Check". From behind a screen came the response, "Female Check". And then, the truly fun thing happened. Everyone of the security people whose hands were free, clapped four times. While all this was part of their protocol to ensure that information was flowing and being acknowledged as having been received, the feeling we got standing in line was one of high energy, of complete control of the situation, and even of fun. The security people at Sea-Tac were working well together, they were being efficient, and they were proud of their performance.

There was so much positive excitement going on, in fact, that I almost felt sorry that I hadn't been selected to participate in this illustration of heightened security!

And while I felt the security people at Sea-Tac were enjoying their jobs, at no time did I feel they were being frivolous, or that my safety was not being taken seriously. On the contrary. Of all the airports I'd been through in the previous six months, the experience at Sea-Tac made me feel the safest and most assured. I felt that these folks knew what they were doing. That they were doing their job to keep me safe and well.

What was the secret of Sea-Tac Security? Could it be there's something in the waters of Seattle? Had they experienced Pike Place Fish? Did they receive some kind of special training? I had to know. So I did what I always do in these kinds of situations - I asked.

What I learned was that they received the same training that everyone in security at airports all across the country received. What I had observed was simply the result of a specific group of people who decided that their jobs were both important and enjoyable. And that they wanted everyone, including themselves, to know it.

My experience at Sea-Tac gives me hope that not only could all of America's airport security forces exhibit the kind of enthusiasm and seriousness I observed, but that so could anyone in any deadly serious job anywhere. The conclusions I drew reinforced my belief that when we bring our full selves to our work, when we are encouraged to exhibit the enjoyment of our work, not only will we perform on a higher plane in a more effective manner, but that those people with whom we interact will respond to our joy with a joy of their own.

As we make changes in the post 9-11 world, we need to remember that being serious about safety doesn't mean we can't or shouldn't enjoy our work. Work should be fun, even when it's deadly serious.