I Found Out My Brother Died at Work in a Full Office
March 13, 2025
It was July 23, 2014, and I was sitting at my desk in an open office, talking to my colleague when I noticed my sister, distraught, standing behind me. I knew. I knew something terrible had happened.
She said, “Peik is dead.”
I wailed and demanded “Our brother Peik or our Uncle Peik?”
She kept repeating, “Our brother, our brother.”
Once it sunk in, I moved to “how,” fearing murder or tragic accident, but she just said, “We don’t know. We don’t know. His wife found him.”
I collapsed, my sister with me, and we wailed together on the floor of the open office.
Three incredible and dear colleagues hugged us and helped. When we stopped screaming, they escorted us to a private office. The once vibrant open space full of employees was now empty. That emptiness was a relief—it was just my sister and my three colleagues. I vaguely remember calling my parents to confirm it was real. They told us we had to go to our older sister workplace to tell her.
My colleagues arranged a car.
I remember going to the stage door and security, insisting we had to see our sister in person. Her colleagues, like mine, stepped in to help. We stood outside her dressing room door, knowing her life was about to change like ours had just minutes before. She opened the door and immediately knew that something was terribly wrong.
We said, “Peik is dead,” and all fell to the floor, wailing.
I wish I didn’t remember the rest of that day, but I do.
I remember getting a hold of Peik’s wife. She told me they had just found out they were pregnant—but no one knew yet. We drove to Boston to be with her and our family.
I remember Peik.
His birthday is March 13, and he would have been 53 today, but he died at 42. He was incredible—so incredible that we planned family gatherings around his availability. He was funny, smart, unique, and the brightest energy in every room.
Peik was a Black/Vietnamese man with a limp from polio, which he contracted in Vietnam, where he was born and later adopted. He joined our growing family as the third of six adopted children, along with four biological siblings.
As a child, he was rambunctious and full of energy—qualities he later transformed into a disarmingly charming presence in adulthood. He was married to an incredible woman and was already a father to twin four-year-old boys. He was excited for another child but never got to meet him—his son was born eight months after he passed.
Peik was a gymnastics coach, an Alaskan fisherman, one of JetBlue’s first employees in Oakland, a chef, and, most recently, a college graduate in education and substitute teacher. He was set to begin his first full-time teaching job in September as a sixth-grade history teacher at the grammar school we had all attended. But most importantly to me, he was my brother.
I have five brothers, but Peik and I shared something special—maybe our birthdays being a day apart, or our big, fun-seeking personalities. You’d think with four older brothers, I’d always feel protected, but Peik was the only one who truly looked out for me.
We all have “Peik moments.”
A few of my strongest memories include the time he caught me at a club with my physically abusive high school boyfriend—whom my family thought I had left. Peik walked up, punched him in the face, then put his arm around him and helped us get into the club.
Years later, when I struggled with infertility for four years, his wife became pregnant with twins. He called to share the news and jokingly offered me one. (“I haven’t checked with my wife yet, but I’m sure she’d be okay with it.”) Unbeknownst to him, I was finally pregnant and planning to tell my family the following Mother’s Day weekend.
I happened to be pregnant a second time when Peik died—I had just told him the week before. Both my pregnancies happen to align with his wife’s, and I am so grateful for the bond we and our children share. I gave birth to my second child, Bella Peik, who I named after him, 7 months after he died and a few weeks before his third son was born.
My company gave me all the time I needed. They helped design the memorial program, and my boss traveled from New York to Boston for the service. I returned after two weeks, still in a fog for months but appreciative of the care from my colleagues and the distraction. It was strange finding out at work—everyone saw my raw grief. But in some ways, that visibility made my return easier. They knew. They understood.
I was seven weeks pregnant when Peik died and returned to work at nine weeks. It was nice to share my pregnancy news with the company—bringing a new life into the office after they had all witnessed the loss of one. Carrying Bella while grieving Peik was both comforting—I was never alone—and overwhelming. I worried about how my grief affected her.
I was lucky to make it to 38 without losing someone so close to me, so suddenly. It changed me. I became more empathetic to grief, especially in the workplace.
I always ask for the name of a loved one when someone shares a loss because I appreciate when people ask me. I love the exchange that follows, especially since Peik’s name is unique. I can still hear him saying, “Peik, like Birthday Peik.”
I wish I hadn’t had to experience such devastating grief at work to understand others’ pain and the challenges of grieving while working, but I appreciate that it gave me greater insight into how to support and advocate for employees.
As I continue my graduate studies in mental health, I am eager to support employees in managing crises, receiving grief counseling, and navigating a supportive return to work. Most companies offer only three days of bereavement, which is incredibly difficult after such a profound loss—I couldn’t have imagined returning after just three days.
Grief doesn’t fit neatly into policies. It doesn’t have a timeline. But I know now that small gestures—a little extra time, a little extra understanding—can mean everything.
My first addiction was work.
March 5, 2015
“The opposite of addiction isn’t sobriety, it’s connection.”
I was 13 years old in 1989, and from the moment I started working, I felt more connected than I ever did at home—even with nine siblings, I often felt lonely. It was work that gave me a sense of belonging, and managers like Carmilla Green who made me feel seen. Now, 35 years later, I’ve clocked over 65,000 hours—the first 10,000 before I was 20 years old. I’ve been addicted to working ever since.
By 13, I learned that being on time, working hard, saying yes to everything, staying social (thanks to being an extrovert), and staying organized (thank you, OCD) led to better shifts, promotions, and opportunities. 35 years later, those same traits have shaped my career—but they’ve also left me burnt out. I’ve been employed every single week for 1,820 weeks straight*.
*The only time I slowed down was in 2019, when I resigned from my VP of HR role to volunteer at Omega Institute, a yoga center where I worked 40 hours a week in exchange for room, board, and yoga classes. It didn’t pay a real check, but it lowered my stress enough that—after four years of infertility struggles—I got pregnant naturally. I took six months off (the first and only break in 35 years) to enjoy the last trimester of pregnancy and first few months of my son’s life. Then, I went right back to work.
This summer, I hope to take a break—but by break, I mean writing my book, taking two summer classes (Research Methods in Counseling and Intro to Psychopharmacology), clocking 200 internship hours, and working with my HR clients.
I’m currently in an Addictions Counseling class, learning how we use different addictions to numb. I use work to numb and to feel alive. Work has always given me purpose even since those early teenage years.
One day, I will take real time off—maybe a few weeks in a row, maybe even a month or two. But until then, I’ll keep working. Working hard. And working hard to help others not work so hard.
"Do you know who cares most about you at your company? You!"
March 4, 2015
Today is Employee Appreciation Day, so take a moment to recognize yourself—your dedication, how you show up, and the value you bring to your work.
As I return to leading my own consulting practice, I now hold the dual role of Founder and Employee. That means I have a new boss—me. When I told my kids about relaunching my practice, I joked, "Do you know who Mom’s new boss is? Me." My son, influenced by having an HR mom, replied, "I hope you’re a good boss to yourself!"
I hope so too. And I hope you take a moment today (and every day) to be a good boss to yourself, to appreciate your contributions, and to celebrate the work you do.
I’ve been an employee since 1989, when I got my first job at 13 years old—and I’ve worked every week since. Throughout high school and college, I juggled 1 to 5 jobs at a time, clocking 10,000 hours of work by the time I graduated in 1997. A few months later I moved to NYC to land my dream job in the fashion industry and have since logged over 55,000 hours of work (for real).
Along the way, I’ve had incredible bosses (Carmilla, Hans Dorsinville , Kellie Cronin, Neil Wilks) who shaped my journey, and some difficult, even toxic bosses (who shall remain nameless). I appreciate both.
The great ones made me believe in myself, and I worked even harder for them. The tough ones—unknowingly—pushed me onto a path where I became an even stronger advocate for employees. They also fueled my passion to study mental health, to better understand how we show up at work, and how we impact individuals, teams, and company culture.
Now, after 65,000 hours of working, I’m combining my professional experience with my academic learning in mental health counseling to build It’s HR Therapy—a practice dedicated to supporting founders, executives, people managers, and HR professionals in creating healthier, more productive teams. Because work isn’t just about what we do—it’s about how we feel while doing it.
March Madness
March 3, 2025
March isn’t just about basketball madness—it’s about personal momentum.
March has always held multiple meanings throughout my life:
My birth month (3/12)
The birth month of many family members including my mother & my daughter (3/19 & 3/7)
The month I started many new jobs, including 1998 Betsey Johnson, 1999 Donna Karan, 2002 Laird+Partners, 2016 Redscout, 2017 Fahrenheit212, 2020 Bespoke Post, and 2025 the relaunch of my consulting practice, It’s HR Therapy.
The month of my first five NYC promotions 1998 Coordinator, 1999 Manager, 2000 Senior Manager, 2002 Senior Director, 2006 HR, and 2007 VP of HR.
The shift from winter (hate) to spring (love).
Madness has multiple meanings too.
Mental instability or insanity – A state of severe mental illness or irrational behavior. Example: The character descended into madness after years of isolation.
Extreme enthusiasm or excitement – A wild or intense level of energy, passion, or activity. Example: The crowd erupted in madness when their team won the championship.
Foolishness or recklessness – Acting in an illogical or unwise manner. Example: It’s madness to drive that fast in a snowstorm.
March Madness (sports context) – A well-known NCAA basketball tournament in the U.S., characterized by intense competition and excitement. Example: I can’t wait for March Madness—it’s the best time of the year for college basketball fans! Go Northwestern.
I have a wild and intense level of energy in combining my HR expertise with a better understanding of mental health to make work work better.
“That felt like HR Therapy!”
March 2, 2025
Over my 20 years in HR, employees have often left meetings with me saying, “That felt like HR therapy!”
This sentiment stuck with me, growing more compelling as I’ve supported people through the complexities of work (and life). I’ve always believed in putting the human in Human Resources, using intuition, experience, and empathy to guide employees through career challenges, leadership transitions, and workplace conflicts.
Yet, as conversations around mental health became increasingly prevalent—especially in the wake of the pandemic and ongoing social justice movements—I found myself wanting deeper expertise to better support employees beyond traditional HR frameworks. To bridge this gap, I decided to pursue a master’s degree in mental health counseling with an emphasis on multiculturalism and social justice.
My goal is to integrate clinical knowledge with my HR experience, enhancing the way I support individuals, founders, and organizations. Whether helping employees navigate workplace stress, coaching leaders through difficult decisions, or addressing the intersection of work and mental health, I want to provide not just guidance, but truly holistic support. I look forward to bringing this expanded skill set back to the workforce as I relaunch my consulting practice to It’s HR Therapy and blend HR expertise with mental health counseling.
“She… headed out to change a few things.”
March 1, 2025
“She packed up her potential and all she had learned, grabbed a cute pair of shoes and headed out to change a few things.” - Unknown
I am officially relaunching my consulting and coaching practice today!
It’s HR Therapy focuses on addressing mental health in the workplace, specifically designed for founders, executives, people managers and HR. It bridges the gap between HR and mental health by providing support that positively impacts individuals, teams, and company culture.
My approach integrates my multicultural upbringing in a large family, nearly three decades of experience working with founders and creatives, two decades of HR leadership, and my current academic studies in mental health counseling at Northwestern with an emphasis on multiculturalism and social justice advocacy. My goal is to provide HR support that fosters healthy employee journeys for everyone—regardless of role, rank, or identity.
I aim to integrate clinical therapy practices with strategic HR approaches to provide guidance on how workplace dynamics, leadership, and organizational culture influence mental well-being. My goal is to create healthier work environments as when work works better, life works better.
This May for Mental Health Awareness Month, I will be offering workshops and training focused on preventative care, maintenance, and crisis management —helping workplaces proactively support mental well-being at every stage.
I’m kicking off March by relaunching my practice! 🎉 This month, I’ll be sharing daily posts filled with stories, tools, and insights to support mental well-being at work—because thriving at work starts with taking care of our minds. 💚 #MyMentalHealth #ItsHRTherapy
Grad School ~ Addendum to Transcript
August 13, 2023
I was diagnosed with dyslexia in the 7th grade.
With ten kids under one roof, several with considerable behavior issues, my exhausted parents must have thought that comparatively I seemed like I was doing ok. Other than being able to take the SATs untimed, I wasn’t given support with navigating my dyslexia, and my faith in myself continued to diminish as my OCD and anxiety continued to intensify.
In grammar school I endured years of bullying by my peers, something else I also received little support with. Self-esteem issues stemming from these experiences led me to an abusive relationship with my first boyfriend in high school. I found solace in the one place I felt empowered: work. I got my first afterschool job at 13, and subsequently held from one to five jobs throughout high school and college, clocking 10,000 hours of work experience by the time I graduated. I realized quickly that my social skills, organization, reliability and hard work could outpace my colleagues, and I could be seen, heard and rewarded at work.
I chose to study business administration at Boston University because work was the place I felt at home. My sophomore year, I read a course description that would change my life: “the analysis of how individuals, groups and structures within an organization interact and influence each other by examining individual behavior, group dynamics, organizational culture, leadership styles, communication patterns, and decision making processes.” I knew the combination of my upbringing and my work experience gave me unique insight into this course content. I signed up for Human Behavior in Organizations and received my first A-. Though my overall GPA at BU was 2.71, my GPA for the five Organizational Behavior courses I took was 3.38.
Unfortunately, my boyfriend also attended BU. In high school, the abuse I suffered from him was mostly verbal, but the privacy of a dorm room now gave way to more violent physical attacks and sexual abuse. As I hid the bruises and bite marks, my grades, self esteem and friendships suffered. The beginning of my senior year, I finally summoned the strength to leave him and my GPA jumped from 2.55 to 3.14 for my final year.
Grad School ~ Courage & Multiple Priorities
August 13, 2023
Tell us about a time when you had to be courageous, as well as a time when you have juggled multiple priorities in your life and how you handled that.
On April 4, 2019, I finally summoned the courage to tell my husband I had to leave him. For the sake of our two children, I had spent over a decade trying to work out the inequities in our marriage, but on that morning I realized that while the marriage wasn’t ever going to change, I had and I deserved better.
I was 43 years old. I had never lived on my own, as I moved from my childhood home full of kids to a dorm room full of students to my husband’s apartment right after college. Luckily, my sister offered me and my kids the in-law suite in her house until I could afford my own place. I lived with her for five months while I struggled to emotionally and financially support my children as we navigated the impact of the separation and I untangled my life with my ex. He is a good father and there was never a question of us sharing custody equally. I have found more equality in our divorce than in our marriage.
Though that first year was a busy, difficult blur, I never wavered from my decision that my family would be better off apart than together. I began the difficult path of divorce and rebuilding my life. I could only hope that this would be the solution to the undercurrent of unhappiness and depression I lived with. Four years later I can say it was. I have a postcard that reads, “She started to live the life she always imagined,” and I am.
At the end of 2019, I found a beautiful one-bedroom apartment overlooking the Hudson River. My sister loaned me the security deposit and first month's rent. As much as I was proud of and fulfilled by my thriving HR consultancy practice (where I helped clients “make work work better”), I decided to look for a full-time job, because I missed being part of a company and supporting employees as their full-time Human Resources leader.
On March 12, 2020, both my 44th birthday and the day the pandemic lockdown began, I received a job offer. No one knew how long the lockdown would last and the next couple years were relentless, but by the end of them I was out of debt, I had paid back my sister, and I was able to focus on myself, my kids and my full-time job. Feeling optimistic, I even put myself on the waiting list for a 2-bedroom apartment in my building, so my children and I could spread out in our new life.
At long last at the end of 2021, my divorce became final. Here is a note I wrote to my family and friends:
#divorced. Happily married at 25 and happily divorced at 45. Ultimately, I am so proud of how I showed up in the marriage and how I managed the separation, prolonged divorce and rebuilding of my life.
Now I get to start 2022 legally single and free. I feel a level of excitement for my future that is more profound than any other moment in my life.
It hasn’t been easy or comfortable or pain-free, but it has been worth it to get to today.
The greatest gifts of our marriage are our two incredible kids. I hope I raise them to know they are strong and resilient and deserve love and equality in their marriages, at work and in all facets of their lives.
So peace out 2021, and welcome 2022 – whatever you’ve got I can get through, all while maintaining a smile, rocking lipstick under my mask and sporting red pants on Zoom.
I left a post-it note for myself on my desk that read “What if it all works out?” A few days later I found one next to it from my daughter Bella that said, “I know it will.” I know it will too, Bella.
2022 was full of joy, growth and wild adventures. It wasn’t all easy. It was the year I was finally able to address and find peace with my experience of childhood sexual abuse, where I started addressing a long-standing eating disorder, and where I more deeply addressed living with OCD and anxiety. But it was also the year I formed the profound and rewarding habits of being kinder to myself, rooting for myself and loving myself. I’m grateful for a year when the fruits of my hard work on myself and my life became apparent through deep, loving and fun relationships with my kids, a rewarding career and a promotion to Vice President, and family and friends who I am there for and who are there for me. Plus lots of rejuvenating solo trips to Costa Rica, where this middle-aged lady learned a new passion: surfing!
This April marked the four year anniversary of my decision to leave my marriage. I felt tremendous pride and joy at having graduated from that experience ready for my next big adventure. It cannot be a coincidence that it was also the week that I was inspired to go to grad school to become a licensed therapist to help other individuals navigate their lives.
I have always juggled multiple priorities, whether it was as a child juggling my many siblings in a chaotic household, as a teen juggling school work and working 1-5 jobs at a time, in my twenties as a project manager juggling 2000+ marketing projects a year, in my thirties juggling being a new mom with a full-time job and long commute, or in my forties juggling part-time custody with a full-time job and lots of hobbies. Never was my skill at multi-tasking more crucial than the year after I left my husband, but I always thrive when I’m busy giving multiple tasks, projects and people my attention and care – it is a big part of what makes my life complete and rewarding.
I welcome the opportunity to fold grad school into the mix, and I’m hungry for the wealth of knowledge I will gain and new relationships I will form. My mother recently said to me, “I think by now you know you can count on yourself!” Yes, I can. What a gift to know your best years are ahead of you.
Grad School ~ Statement of Purpose
August 13, 2023
I’ve made it my mission to improve the work life of employees, regardless of role or rank.
Over the 17 years that I’ve worked in Human Resources, time and time again employees have left meetings with me saying, “That felt like HR therapy!” That notion has become increasingly compelling to me, and in order to realize it, I am applying to get my masters in mental health counseling. I am eager to incorporate new knowledge and methods into my current work as Vice President of People Operations and Culture at Bespoke Post, an e-commerce company, with the long-term goal of a private consulting practice providing HR insight, expertise and counseling as a licensed therapist.
For years I’ve enjoyed saying, “I put the human in Human Resources.” Through instincts, intuition, and on-the-job learning, I have improved the employee journey from candidate through alumni for thousands of people. I found my niche at founder-led, creative companies with under 100 employees, where I have the opportunity to get to know and support every level, from interns to executives. Throughout my life, I have easily connected with people of all ages, backgrounds and interests, and my people skills have proved to be my superpower.
I’ve supported employees through various job-related stresses, including transitioning to new supervisory roles, managing increased responsibilities and burnout, handling disappointment after not receiving promotions, combating imposter syndrome, dealing with difficult or toxic bosses, and managing transitions back from parental leaves. I’ve coached leaders on managing high performers, underperformers and everyone in between. I’ve handled complex and high-stakes situations for companies, like office dating that turned into sexual harassment, discrimination, conflict mediation, and executing layoffs and terminations.
Inevitably, employees have opened up about their mental health challenges: anxiety, panic attacks, depression, alcoholism, suicidal thoughts and sexual abuse. In 2013, I tried to support an employee struggling with drug addiction, but had to make the difficult decision to terminate him when we discovered he was selling drugs to fellow employees. Nine days later he committed suicide. I wrote about the experience in My First, A Suicide, and a Whole Office. It was shocking, painful, and I had to work through it for months in my own therapy. I believe I did everything I could for him, but I still wonder how I might have handled it differently if I was trained as a therapist.
In March 2020, I began my current role at Bespoke Post as the first person to lead their HR function and the first remote employee hired during the pandemic. It was a time of rapid and critical change in HR. I didn't have an in-person meeting with a single colleague for 17 months. I quickly had to adapt to building relationships over Zoom so that I could learn what everyone’s roles were, how they were adapting to the pandemic, and how I might best support them. I saw an increase in mental health challenges as the lines between home and the office blurred. Employees continued to refer to their conversations with me as "HR therapy," but this took on new weight as the global mental health crisis intensified. In my 30+ years in the workplace, conversations around mental health have never been more crucial, and I am eager for more training and tools to support employees with these issues.
Then the impact of George Floyd’s murder and a long-overdue racial reckoning sparked new conversations in the workplace. Never have I been more grateful for my upbringing and the ways it equipped me to have these conversations. I have 9 brothers and sisters, 6 of whom were adopted from different races and countries. The importance of fighting for racial and social justice was instilled in me before I was cognizant, and I have found great satisfaction in working to achieve it in the workplace.
Growing up in such a large and diverse family also taught me a tremendous amount about group dynamics. I wasn’t the most talented and I wasn’t the most troubled. In my family, extreme behaviors, both positive and negative, were the ones that won time for attention. As an HR leader, I make sure to advocate for the employees who both thrive and suffer in the in-between, and I make sure they are seen, heard, supported, and rewarded. I’ve made it my mission to improve the work life of all employees, regardless of role or rank.
I spent my twenties pursuing my career goals breathlessly and ambitiously. In my early thirties, I found myself struggling to get pregnant, and after four years of trying, naturally and medically, I was told I wouldn’t be able to conceive. During these difficult years, I found yoga and meditation, and I learned to breathe. I resigned from my Vice President of Human Resources gig to volunteer at the Omega Institute for Holistic Studies, a non-profit educational retreat center. Not many people quit their six-figure job to get paid in yoga, but they took advantage of my corporate skills in the office of their wellness center, and I took advantage of all the services they provided: acutonics, shamanic healing, intuitive guidance, chakra balancing, handwriting analysis, Thai massage, sweat lodges. Five weeks later I found out I was pregnant.
Though I eventually returned to the corporate world, I brought these alternative wellness disciplines with me, and I earned my Yoga Teacher Training Certification on the way. I integrate these modalities into my support of founders and employees in the workplace in the form of monthly meditations, yoga, and mindfulness practices.
As my belief in the efficacy of wellness work has grown, so has my belief in the value of my own therapy, and it is only fitting that I was introduced to therapy at work. The week after 9/11, the HR team at Donna Karan, where I worked, offered five free therapy sessions to all employees. It was in those sessions that I was first diagnosed, at 25 years old, with OCD and anxiety. I couldn’t afford more than the five complimentary sessions, but the diagnosis was a revelation. I finally began to understand my brain and the hacks, both healthy and unhealthy, that I had developed to navigate my childhood and early adult life.
I returned to the same therapist a few years later when my ruminating became overwhelmingly intrusive the first time I had to terminate an employee. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I went to bed filled with dread and woke up sick to my stomach. There is natural anxiety in having to terminate someone, but this was debilitating. My usual hacks failed me, and since I could now afford therapy, I knew I needed to figure out how to calm my anxious mind, better understand my OCD, and employ these new strategies in my work.
I’ve continued with my therapy in the decades since, and it has dramatically improved my personal life and my work life. I want to be able to do that to an even greater degree for the people I work with.
I am proud to be able to say that I have already achieved the goals I set for my career back in my twenties. My new goal is to continue to work full-time at my company and join the Fall 2023 cohort as a part-time student, so that I can evolve from coach to counselor, and eventually provide professionals with my unique brand of clinical therapy.
Britta on Refinery29 sharing her Salary Story!
October 7, 2019
I’m so excited and honored to featured this week on Refinery29’s Salary Stories!
In case you’re not familiar, Salary Stories is a R29 signature series featuring women with long-term career experience who are willing to open up about how they’ve navigated the complex world of careers, bosses, negotiating, and taking risks.
Be sure to check out the full article but here are just a few of the highlights:
1999 ~ Creative Operations Coordinator: "I trafficked over 2,000 advertising and marketing projects a year for a female-founded brand. I went to fashion shows, opened up retail stores on Madison Avenue, typeset press releases, and made sure ads for Vogue had the logo in the right place (bottom left corner for left-hand pages). I worked crazy hours and loved every second of it.
2002 ~ Creative Operations Director: “The head of our in-house creative department had decided to launch his own advertising agency…We set up shop in less than a week — something I now see as insanely remarkable…I understand how people suffer from imposter syndrome, but I just didn’t have time. I was too busy managing a whole department, flying solo on client business trips, and making shit happen. It was thrilling.”
2007 ~ VP of Human Resources: “Sometimes a great mentor knows what you should do in your career before you do. Thankfully, I had one of those mentors, and he’d recognized that I was an empathetic leader and an advocate for employees, and was (unknowingly) shaping our company culture…I accepted the role (good thing, since it’d been announced to the company.)”
2009 ~ Volunteer: “Not many people quit their six-figure job to get paid in yoga, but that’s what I did.”
2010 ~ Head of HR & Operations: “It was wonderful to realize that my talents easily translated. I’d always thrived from the connections I made and relationships I built — and that would be no different anywhere I went.”
2018 ~ Founder: “Both inspired and fed up, I launched my own HR practice in July of 2018. I say ‘fed up’ because I was frustrated by aspects of the corporate world — its politics, its slowness for change, and yes, sometimes its corruption. I say ‘inspired’ because I knew I could take everything I’d learned and, to use a favorite catchphrase, use it for 'good and not evil.”
Being a Founder: 1 year anniversary
July 26, 2019
Happy Independence Month. Here’s what independence means to me…
Understanding founders (better)
After 20 years of working for/with founders, I thought I understood them pretty well. Now I realize that’s like thinking you know what it’s like to parent because you’ve babysat your nephew.
This year I’ve experienced my own case of “Founder’s Syndrome.” Yep...all of the symptoms. The extreme highs and lows. The non-stop elevator pitch. The 24/7 work week. The never ending flow of ideas with zero bandwidth to act on them.
I can’t quantify how this has made me better at my job, but I do know it makes me more empathetic to founders. I always say ‘I’m here for the employees, and Founders are employees too.’ Now that I’m one too, I mean it even more.
Calling it like it is
If you know me, this one might surprise you. I’m not exactly one to hold back. But the reality is that being independent does give me a more objective point of view on a company, its leaders, its practices, and how it’s perceived. And as a third party, I have no issue being completely candid and frank about what I see. My only goal is to help and make it better for ALL.
I’m not saying that being in-house means you can’t be truthful or aren’t fighting to be heard--I’m just saying I’ve now experienced that there’s power in honesty and clarity coming from the outside.
Feeling great about who I work for
The thing about being an HR executive is you get access to a lot of information immediately. Sensitive info that most people (other than the CEO and CFO) don’t know: salaries, salary history, bonuses, personnel files, offer letters, legal history, and know what leadership really thinks (positive and negative) about specific employees. That means within 48 hours of starting your HR leadership role, you know exactly what kind of company you’re working for--and whether or not it’s the company you were “sold on” and thought you were joining.
I have a strong personal and professional moral compass (I’m not ‘PC’ HR, I’m ‘human’ HR). But like any HR executive, I’ve observed (and temporarily endured) practices that didn’t sit well with me. When I went independent, I promised myself I would only work with companies who wanted to be better. Because if you don’t want to be better, it won’t take me long to figure that out. And if you don’t want to be better, I don’t want to work with you.
Helping more people, in less time
Whether it’s mentoring, advocating, advising, cheerleading, what I love about working for smaller companies is being able to advocate for each and every employee. That becomes an impossibility once a company exceeds a certain size. That’s why I love the 2- 100 person company.
If you look at my resume, you’ll see two extremes--I worked at 2 companies for a relatively long time (10 and 5 years) and 3 companies for a relatively short time (under a year). Both taught me so much, but the latter more than I could imagine. It was like an MBA program with a semester at each company. I realized something invaluable. I can make a positive impact, quickly. It comes from experience, empathy, listening, remembering, hustling, and change management techniques.
By going independent, and working with several boutique companies at one time, I still get to enjoy the personal connections, while working with multiple founders, and knowing I can make a positive shift in a short amount of time. It’s just good math.
Always learning
A regular paycheck and reasonable hours are not to be knocked (I’m hoping for both through It’s Britta...eventually). But I also know I thrive in challenging and new situations. That’s pretty much a guarantee when it comes to being an entrepreneur.
I’m confident this next year of It’s Britta HR will hold its own discoveries, insights, and lessons. I look forward to sharing those with you as well.
Stop Saying “Fired,” unless You Really Mean It
By Katie Cowden, a colleague who I’ve hired and worked with at four different companies (Laird+Partners, YARD, It’s Britta Consulting and Sylvain)
June 30, 2019
Long before I became HR, I picked up an HR pet peeve (1) from Britta: people saying ‘fired’ when they should say something else.
This is not to euphemize or to be HR PC. Sometimes people should and do get FIRED. But most of the time, when people say someone “got fired” it’s just not accurate. More than likely, there’s a better term. Language is powerful, and we’ve got strong opinions on the matter. Here’s a quick breakdown of terms and why it matters.
“FIRED”
Britta always says, “fired means there was a fire.” Something flared up, alarms went off, something went seriously wrong, and it had to be exterminated immediately.
In our book, people get “fired” when they’ve done something willfully wrong--either so egregiously or so persistently as to become urgent. “If you lie, steal, get violent, act abusively, constantly bully….or if you show up late the day after a warning??? Oh...I’ll fire your ass,” says one unnamed HR expert. But this simply isn’t the case, most of the time.
People don’t realize it, but at least 95% of the time that someone’s job ends, it was planned in advance. Just as people rarely ‘walk out’ on a job, it’s rare that someone gets ‘fired’ in haste. There is always a list (2). Before that sit down happens, chances are there have been days, weeks (even months!) of discussing, planning, or postponing it. If that’s the case, then there’s no fire. It’s probably a termination.
“TERMINATED”
At It’s Britta HR, we say “terminated” a lot--especially when we’re speaking generally or in the abstract. It’s official. It’s accurate. It’s neutral.
Terminations can be conduct related, performance based, or for business reasons. There’s a black and white procedure to them, and a soft skilled art to them. We go over “Termination Protocols” with our clients and we even wrote a “Terminations Playbook” to help non-HR folks handle them properly while safeguarding everyone involved.
But let’s be honest. In speaking terms, if we refer to someone being “terminated” (versus “laid off” or “let go”)...as in “I terminated that individual in 2010….” then it was probably for very good, very specific reasons, that we probably can’t tell you.
“LAID OFF”
This term gets thrown around euphemistically, but the meaning is precise. A person is “laid off” for purely fiscal reasons.
Generally, this happens in “rounds” or during a “restructuring,” when a group of people are laid off at the same time based on financial reasons. (Although, ‘laid off’ can be accurate for individuals too, if a single position is eliminated). This means that good employees get “laid off” all the time for no fault of their own.(3)
If you’ve been through layoffs as an employee (departing or surviving), you know it can be brutal. If you’ve been through layoffs as HR, you know what goes on behind closed doors. The biggest surprise for most is:
a) how long in advance layoffs are planned
b) how often the date changes leading up to it
c) how often “the list” of people changes and
d) how much orchestration is required on the day.
When that’s the case, you have no choice but to take it in stride. You’re not running from a fire, you’re engineering a demolition.
“LET GO”
If you’re looking for the most humane and human way to say it, then say “they were let go.” It’s kinder. It’s gentler. And like the other terms, it can also be accurate. At least, when it’s done right.
Here’s the thing. Most of the time, when someone inaccurately says they themselves or someone else was ‘fired,’ the truth is, it just wasn’t the right match.(3) Yes, we’ve met a few extremes--tyrant bosses and inept ingrates. But everything is relative. A rockstar at one company can be a terrible hire at another, and vice versa. And just as celebrities can ‘consciously uncouple’ sometimes ending a working relationship is the best thing for both parties.
Britta says, “It’s possible to let someone go with dignity and respect, regardless of the reason leading up to it. I always strive for making it as empathetic, positive and dignified as it can be. People are often relieved. They are rarely truly surprised as they weren’t happy and feel better to have answers. Now they can move on. I often get a hug at the end.”
This ability didn’t come overnight for Britta. It took years of terminations, and that’s a lot of lives affected. Which is exactly why we’re set on getting the terms right.
For more information about our services and playbooks, please contact me at katie@itsbritta.com
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Footnotes:
I’ve picked up more than one pet peeve from Britta over the years, as well as a lot of HR tips and philosophies. It’s why I (and others who know her) always ask ourselves ‘WWBD’ in tough situations.
The list that every company has (formally, or informally):
The people you want to keep at any cost
The people who are earning their keep
The people that would be the first to go
Great employees do get laid off. But employers often use “layoffs” to let go of challenging or low-performing employees.
Sometimes bosses unfairly and unnecessarily ‘fire’ employees in a way that isn’t appropriate to the issue or reason at hand. If someone feels ‘fired’ it probably wasn’t handled with empathy and respect.
Oh $#*T, I just got fired!?!
By Katie Cowden, a colleague who I’ve hired and worked with at four different companies (Laird+Partners, YARD, It’s Britta Consulting and Sylvain)
June 30, 2019
Got terminated? It happens. It sucks. But there are things you can do TODAY.
1. BREATHE
Maybe you’re angry. Maybe you’re embarrassed. Maybe you’re worried. All totally normal, and you need to let yourself feel it. But despair not. This might just be the best thing that ever happened to you.
While you’re breathing…
Remember that before they ruled the world, this happened to Oprah, Walt Disney, and Anna Wintour, the latter of whom famously said “everyone should be fired once” because it’s character building.
Ask yourself...were you actually happy? Are you a teeny bit relieved? Were you already asking ‘what’s next’???
You may be worried about perception, but you’ve got a lot more control over that than you think. Which is why you can breathe a little deeper and should….
2. WATCH YOUR MOUTH
How you speak and behave now is critical. It shows volumes about your character and will and influence who has your back in the coming days.
Their lips are sealed. Chances are, your former employer is going to say as little as possible on the matter to protect themselves legally. If someone calls to verify your past employment, most companies will only give your start date, end date, and title, and can only disclose salary if you sign paperwork to give access.
Know who does talk??? Your PEERS. So...before you storm out, start talking smack, or telling everyone that you got “fired,” you need to check yourself. First of all, fired probably isn’t the right term to use. Secondly, what impression do you want to leave those colleagues with?
Your Best PR Move is probably showing grace and saying something to the effect of: “I honestly didn’t feel like this was the right fit either. I learned a lot, wish everyone the best, and am excited about what’s next.” A positive narrative makes you look good and benefits you far more than trying to make the company look bad.
3. READ THE PAPERWORK
Let me guess, the actual ‘sit down’ of the termination was a bit of a blur? Once most people hear ‘letting you go’ they experience the Charlie Brown effect (“wah wah wahnnnn”). Now that it’s sinking in, it’s time to review the paperwork, carefully.
Your paperwork should cover your severance (if applicable), final pay, unused vacation, benefit continuation, and more. It’s a lot to take in, so sit down and give it your full attention before signing anything.
If you’re being offered severance pay, it’s going to come with some terms. Lucky you. Read these terms immediately and closely.
Ask questions. (If you’ve got a good HR person, they’ll follow up with you to see what questions you have.)
Go ahead and file for unemployment, which is pretty easy to do online if you’re in New York.
4. MAKE THESE LISTS
You may want just want to blow off steam, cry in your pillow, or drown your sorrows in a negroni. I get that. But trust me that the thing that will make you feel best right now is to take some action and start moving on.
So grab those pens and post its you stole from the supply room, clear off your desk/the coffee table/a wall, and put on your most inspiring playlist. Then start writing out some key lists.
List 1: Your Network Allies
These are the people that are going to give you leads, recommend you, put the word out.
They’re the first people you’ll reach out to, and if you do that right away, they’ll rally behind you! (All the more reason to be gracious about your exit as people want to help someone that will be a good referral)
List 2: Companies of Interest
These are the companies you want to work for or have always been curious about.
How do they match up to list 1? What connections do you have there?
List 3: Lessons and Accomplishments
It wasn’t the right match, but I’m sure you learned and grew at this last experience. Write it out.
This is going to help you update your resume and reframe how you talk about the experience (again, getting that positive narrative straight).
List 4: Your Superpowers
You may not feel like it today, but you’ve got them and you need to speak to them while interviewing and networking. Write them out, reflect on them, and hone your elevator pitch.
Do you have any side-hustle powers to get you through this slump? What freelance ‘gigs’ might you be open to while you search for the next big thing?
5. BRUSH UP YOUR RESUME
This goes without saying, but it tends to be the most dreaded part. Hopefully you designed it less than 3 versions of Adobe ago. But even if it’s recent, it probably needs a good make-over. The lists you just made will be helpful in shaping it up. Search online for inspiration. Phone a friend to look it over. Remember, a resume is a fluid and ever-evolving document. In fact, you should be catering it to your audience each time you send it out. So your updates today are just the start. Don’t stress...you’ll be making more updates tomorrow.
6. GET ON LINKEDIN
Just do it. Sign in. Update your profile. Start connecting wisely. Make sure you have a compelling header and that all the info represents your superpowers and makes it clear that you’re seeking opportunities. Often candidates will wait to put an end date to their last job, so it looks like they are still “present’ at the company. This is a mistake, even if you were terminated! You want people to know you are looking. Recruiters and employers might approach you for freelance--which they wouldn’t do if you were gainfully employed. And it can be a huge plus for a FT role that you don’t have to give your current employer notice.
7. BREATHE, AGAIN
If it’s still day 1 (or realistically...day 2) and you’ve tackled these things, then you deserve to be proud of yourself. You’ve taken control, you’ve shown courage, and you’re on your way to the next great thing. So take another moment to breathe, and to remember….Life has its cycles. Its ups and downs. It rains, it’s sunny. It’s morning, it’s night. You start a job, you end a job. Life is hard, and also wonderful again.
Good luck. You’ve got this.
My First, a Suicide, and a Whole Office.
June 30, 2019
Three Terminations that Changed My Life
#1: My First
You never forget your first. Mine sent me to therapy.
My first termination was also my first direct report. I wasn’t HR yet. I was a young manager and I felt fully responsible for it not working out. I had hired her, trained her, and managed her for over a year. Now I had to terminate her.
It had been discussed, it had been decided, and ultimately I agreed with the decision. But for reasons I can’t recall, it wasn’t going to happen for weeks. It was agony. I couldn’t eat, sleep, or work. I ruminated and practiced the conversation hundreds of times. I went to bed filled with dread and woke up sick to my stomach.
Welcome to being a manager. Welcome to knowing too much and trying to act like you don’t. I had no idea that managers knew for days/weeks/months prior to someone being let go. I was astounded that it was ‘business as usual’ right up to the minute you impacted someone’s life forever.
Now I know this: you treat everyone with the same respect, every day, regardless of their standing. I used to think that required dissonance, now I know it’s care.
The day inevitably arrived. What is the appropriate attire for a termination? I remember my outfit, the long commute in, and the long walk down the hall to the office. I don’t remember the delivery exactly--I honestly think I blacked out as the words came out of my mouth.
What I remember clearly is the unexpected sense of relief that washed over me as I could see the news sinking in for her. My attention turned from breaking the news to the support she now needed and the steps that would follow.
The dread was never as bad again. I don’t look forward to them, but I do know that I can make a termination go as well as possible. Not just from experience and good protocols, but by leaning into my humanity and my emotions. Yes, it’s a business decision. But that doesn’t mean I must be cold and closed off. It’s a tough situation that deserves empathy and dignity.
#2: A SUICIDE
Years into my HR career I had to terminate an employee who struggled with drug abuse and who was selling drugs to fellow employees. It was a difficult situation, but I could never have imagined the outcome.
It was a very tight-knit group of employees. I was a relative newcomer. There were countless wonderful things about that community: the closeness, camaraderie and care that everyone had for one another. But there was a dark side too. Drugs had been tolerated for a long time, and it was now my job to help address it.
There was one person at the center of it, who was also dealing drugs. We intervened several times, issued warnings, and genuinely tried to get him help. Ultimately, we could no longer enable him. We had to make the tough decision to let him go, in order to protect other employees.
Nine days later, he committed suicide. It was a tragic shock and the group was shattered. I didn’t have time to process. I went into immediate crisis mode. There was family to inform. Friends to console. Grief counselors to bring on site. We made the necessary arrangements. It was only later, when I learned how he’d died, that I experienced my own shock and deep remorse. He hadn’t overdosed, as I’d assumed. He shot himself in the head.
I know I wasn’t responsible. But it took months and months of therapy to really know that. To know that while I, (Britta, HR), made a difficult decision, I (Britta, the person) wasn’t to blame. I still have to remind myself that I did everything I could.
I do wish that I’d had known more. After he killed himself, more details came out of the woodwork. Warning signs. Red flags. Peers and colleagues always know more about what’s going on than HR or managers do, no matter how much you investigate.
Now we train teams to look out for each other and not to be passive bystanders--whether that’s to prevent abuse/harassment, or to get people help when they need it. As HR, you have to be aware of your role, take care of confidentiality, and not label or accuse. But I will always let it be known that I am there to help, will use my knowledge for good, and encourage the same in others.
#3: Closing an Office
Nearly 10 years into my HR career, I joined a large global company who frequently acquired smaller companies. Two weeks into my role, I was informed I would need to fly to California and close an office full of people that I’d never met.
I had terminated my share of individuals at this point, but I’d never encountered the degree of exposure, law, and paperwork that this one entailed. I was on the phone with an employment lawyer hourly. I flew across the continent with folders of termination paperwork in my suitcase.
It was one thing to terminate someone with care and dignity, when you knew them. But to do that for person after person who didn’t know you from Adam? On the one hand, it was a horrible notion. I was the executioner. On the other hand, it was less personal. I was anonymous. It would be the ultimate test of my HR abilities.
I realized... I could still be kind. I could still act ‘normal.’ I would still be empathetic, without apologizing. I would still safeguard the individuals, and advocate for them. I would still follow up in the days weeks that follow (COBRA ending or severance being processed is a great reason to check in.)
It was a whirlwind, but a strangely proud career moment. I was able to make connections. And answer questions. And clarify. People did open up. Some were relieved, some were pissed, none were truly surprised. They were appreciative of the respect and care I took in the process. It’s an odd thing to be “thanked” by someone being terminated, and to be commended by your boss for it. But it shouldn’t be strange. Because terminations can be done well.
The first termination is always going to be the hardest, and they should never be easy. I learned (tragically) that you will inevitably impact people’s lives. You cannot force people to change, or protect everyone--but you can try. And you can take great care, and even a little pride, in letting them go well.
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If you or someone you know is thinking about suicide, please contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline or call 1-800-273-8255
Yale to Jail - Growing Up One of Ten Kids (somewhere in the middle)
May 31, 2019
I have nine brothers and sisters – six of whom were adopted from various corners of the world
(And as the title of this article suggests, we ran the gamut in terms of how we “turned out.”) Growing up with so many siblings shaped every aspect of my life and my values. I got less personal space, belongings and attention than many, I gained a deep understanding of group dynamics, and I had to find my own identity within a diverse whole.
My family’s large size dictated certain unusual practices. Assigned seats at the dinner table and in the 15-passenger van. Mountains of hand-me-downs with labels that read “Itsa Larsen’s.” An infamous “job chart” with allowance doled out only after morning, evening and Sunday chores were inspected. There was a line for the bathroom, breakfast, and Atari. And it took me years before I knew there were standard rules vs. “Larsen Rules” to games like Monopoly, Uno, and Backgammon.
We were quite cute as kids, with eight of us so close in age (only 5 years apart) dressed in matching clothes (including bathing suits every summer to keep track of us at the beach). Our Norwegian names unified us with my dad’s background. At our annual holiday party, we performed shows like we were the multicultural Von Trapps. Family friends would start reaching out to my parents in early fall to make sure they saved the December date.
But it wasn't easy to stand out from the pack. Everyone mistook you for one of your siblings either by name or talent (“Are you the one that sings?”).
By the time we were teens, it wasn’t so cute. Having eight teenagers under one roof was chaos. Condoms were put in Christmas stockings, curfews were missed, and each sibling taught the next sibling how to smoke dope. A family raised free from yelling or violence gave way to hormones, anger and disruption. I was scared of my brothers (some of them), and competitive with my sisters (most of them). Some of us formed alliances. Others began to distance themselves. A few lashed out. Mostly, we calibrated, adapted, and kept growing up.
Bathrooms were segregated for boys and girls (thank God!). Laundry piled up in heaps and you never quite found all your clothes. Our phone was always busy, since we didn’t have call waiting, and everyone ignored the 15-minute per call time limit. And an old neglected job chart hung in the kitchen, as everyone was too occupied by school, hobbies, sports, friends and “real” jobs. (We were all encouraged to get working papers at 14 years old.)
By the time I entered high school in 1989, we were so busy that my mom started capturing the whereabouts of my siblings in a semi-monthly newsletter. She left it on the dining room table. It was often multiple pages, double sided, with pictures. This was the 1980’s/90’s -- pre-social media days. Family friends would ask to get copies and Mom started mailing them out.
The newsletter never got “approved” by us kids and I always learned something new (and often inappropriate) about what my siblings were up to -- like the time my mom announced my sister had spent the weekend with her boyfriend and now had a UTI, or seeing a picture of my family with Bill Clinton. “When did that happen?” My parents had forgotten to invite me.
Let me take you back to the year 1990.
Here’s what everyone was up to. We’re listed in order of arrival instead of age, because it just made the most sense to tack on a name to the end of the list when someone new showed up.
Tage - 18, African-American, adopted from Connecticut
Sophomore at Michigan State on a full music scholarship. Tage was the oldest only by a year but he seemed far older. It was a huge responsibility to be the first. A role model he did not want to be. He pushed boundaries farther then he should have, but I was so far removed from his life that I don’t remember much of the drama he caused. By the time I may have started my own teenage boundary-pushing, my 7 older siblings had already done it all and had been punished in every sort of way. My parents were geniuses, as they didn’t ground us -- depending on our offense, we’d have to do something that improved their lives and was often embarrassing, like weeding the sidewalk in front of our house or scrubbing all of the pots and pans until they shined. I do remember the beautiful sound of Tage playing trumpet floating down from his room on the third floor. It was a melodious backdrop for the chaos of the house (aka sonos for the 80’s) and I remember how quiet it felt when he went to college.
Tage would later become the first African-American trumpet player in the Chicago Symphony (CSO). He has two teenage sons. (Let’s start the Larsen grandchild count = 2).
Jens - 17, Native American, adopted from Connecticut
Senior in high school. Hockey fan. Aggressive and hard to get along with or relate to. Many negative incidents stand out in my memory: him spitting on me and my sister and calling us “cunts,” and never acknowledging me in the halls of school even when people asked me, “Isn’t that your brother?”
The last time I saw Jens was in 1997, when he flew into a rage and came after me with a bat. My mother had to call the police. He lived in Alaska for a long time before moving to Minnesota. A big Boston sports fan even from a distance, he bonds with my siblings and parents over Red Sox and Patriots wins. He has two sons. (Larsen grandchildren = 4).
Peik - 17, Half Black/Half Vietnamese, adopted from Vietnam
Senior in high school. Smart, social, fun, full of life and more energy than could be contained in a classroom. Spontaneous, creative, and utterly unique. He was the soul of our family. Mischievous but loving, master of pranks but fiercely protective. As we grew up, our family reunions would be scheduled around him because life was just more fun with Peik.
Peik would complete college while working full-time when he was in his late thirties because he wanted his sons to have a father with a college degree. In 2014 he got a gig teaching 6th grade at the grammar school we all went to but the summer before he was supposed to start, Peik died suddenly of septic shock and left us all devastated. We are lucky he had married an incredible woman and had 3 sons who are as rambunctious as he was and remind us of him in the best of ways. (Larsen grandchildren = 7)
Kari - 17, Vietnamese, adopted from Vietnam
Senior in high school. Caring, kind, smart and second mother to us all. She played the role of protector and was always there to support us. Her adoption papers said she was a certain age, but our pediatrician disagreed. After an x-ray of her hand better determined her age, Kari jumped from 11 to 13 (never being 12). She was a perfect student and got along with everyone. Still friends with her grammar, high school and college friends, she is one of the kindest and most caring people.
Kari would attend my father’s alma mater, Williams College, marry her college boyfriend and, not surprisingly, become a social worker before becoming a mom to 3 great kids. (Larsen grandchildren = 10)
Anika - 15, arrived by birth
Junior in high school. The star in every Larsen Christmas Show, she performed in every theater performance in school. Strong-willed, smart and confident, she and I struggled to get along as kids. Because we looked so similar, we were constantly confused for each other, which irritated and frustrated both of us. We were so used to being called by the other’s name that one time when I went to the dentist, they called out “Anika?” in the waiting room and I shrugged my shoulders, followed the dentist back, and had sealants applied to my molars that were meant for her teeth. Stuff like this made me long desperately for people to know just who I was. Hence the name of my company. Even though we didn’t get along at home, Anika would stand up to my bullies in grammar school and look out for me in high school. By the time we were in college, she often sent me postcards, and when she turned 21 she got me a duplicate of her driver’s license. That was the first time I didn’t mind being confused for her. I still know her social security number by heart.
I would follow Anika to NYC, where she was beginning her acting career and I would start my fashion career. She would teach me the difference between the local and the express trains and we would live in the same building in Manhattan and next door to each other in Brooklyn.
Her soulful voice and acting skills would lead Anika to study theater at Yale University and be one of the few white people in the multicultural singing group Shades, which looked a lot like our family. After a 20 year career in theater, Anika was nominated for a Tony-award. But her favorite role so far is mother to her two young sons (I was a key member of her birthing team for both births) and wife to a talented trumpet player. (Larsen grandchildren - 12)
Siri - 14, Cambodian, adopted from Cambodia
Sophomore in high school. A world-class gymnast competing across the globe. As a baby in Cambodia, she was found by the side of a road with her umbilical cord still attached by two nuns. She weighed only 2.2 pounds. Her rise to becoming an elite athlete was a miracle. Her dual citizenship as Cambodian and Norwegian allowed her to compete on the Norwegian national gymnastics team. Tons of press outlets captured her story over the years, one of my favorites being Evening Magazine. It feels like a time capsule, as you can see us all as teenagers in this TV segment.
Siri would attend Michigan State University on a full athletic scholarship and later work for the US Gymnastics Federation, before landing at a PR company in NYC, where she's been for years. She is married with a son and, not surprisingly, lives around the corner from Kari in Westchester, as they were always intensely close. (Larsen grandchildren = 13)
Britta - 13, arrived by birth
Freshman in high school. Girly. Styled all my sisters for their proms and parties. The go-to advisor for all things fashion and make-up. Always able to make friends of any age, background or interest -- I got along with every clique but wasn’t really in any. I started a hiphop dance group called the ‘Fly Girls’ that I loved leading. But school was tough, as I struggled with dyslexia and went through years of bullying in grammar school. Self-esteem issues would lead me to an abusive relationship with my first boyfriend at age 15 that lasted for five years.
I would later attend Boston University and translate my love for all things fashion and beauty into a career in the fashion industry. Highly influenced by the personalities, relationships and dynamics of my family, my people skills would prove to be my unique superpower. The executives at an agency I was a founding member of saw my people operations skills and promoted me to HR. It was a role I didn’t want, having grown up with a hyper-awareness of stereotypes and biases. An enthusiastic, blonde, white woman as HR? Not me. But eventually I couldn’t deny that it is me. I love being an advocate for employees -- all of them -- regardless of role or rank.
I would meet my husband at 20 and be the first daughter to get married. My wedding was in the backyard of my childhood home. I had all the bridesmaids and groomsmen come down the aisle to the song of their choice like it was a runway show. After struggling to get pregnant for years, I have a son and daughter. (Anika was a key member of my birthing team at both of those births.) (Larsen grandchildren = 15)
Nissa - 9, arrived by birth
5th grade. Bright, funny and talented. With so many siblings and so many roles already taken by them, Nissa struggled to find her identity. She was good at so many things, but everything she was good at, someone had done before her. My parents have to be exhausted by this point, and Nissa had 4 older sisters and 4 older brothers simultaneously bossing her around and ignoring her completely. I like to think she and I were close growing up, although I think I also enjoyed bossing her around as I had no one else who would listen to me.
Nissa would attend my mom’s alma mater, Vassar College, and study Art History. She lives in the Hamptons.
Christian - 14, El Salvadorian, adopted from El Salvador
8th grade (I think). Not sure if he was still in school at this time. Christian was adopted in 1982 and spent more years living outside our home than in it. His biological family struggled in poverty and violence and lied about his age and health in order to have him adopted (they said he was 4 years old when he was 7 and downplayed his crippling polio). Confined to a wheelchair, not speaking a word of English, he joined the Larsen family. Within a few years, he set fires in the house, tormented his siblings, and darted out into streets in his wheelchair just to watch panicked drivers swerve. My parents would have to send him to a residential treatment center because he was so destructive.
Christian would spend years in and out of jail before being deported in 1994 back to El Salvador. My adopted siblings all had green cards, but my parents left them citizens of their native country so as to keep their identity -- in Christian’s case, this backfired. He now panhandles in the streets of San Salvador. He calls my mother every Mother’s Day, often apologizing for blowing the opportunity he was given in America. Christian has one son. (Larsen grandchildren = 16)
Trygve - 3, arrived by birth
As our high school teachers called him: The Caboose. So much younger than the rest of us, he was our favorite doll to dress up. Tryg was spoiled by everyone and had such a different upbringing than the rest of us -- he was more an only child with 11 parents than part of the pack of 10 siblings. After all the teenagers left home, the house must’ve felt empty with just Mom, Dad, Nissa and Tryg.
My parents would end up divorcing a few years later. Tryg would pretty much go through middle school and high school with a single mom, hearing stories of the Larsen legacy. He would study auto mechanics and then go to work for the Boston Marathon. He was mere feet away from the bombing at the marathon finish line in 2013. A few years ago he decided he was done with Boston winters and he moved to Hanalei, Hawaii to live in paradise with his beautiful wife. We hope they add more grandchildren to the Larsen count of 16, since the rest of us are well into our 40’s.
How did growing up in such a dynamic team environment influence my working style?
In about a million ways. I talk about my upbringing often in my HR role, as it influenced the way I approach negotiation, teamwork, motivation, and many other areas of my work. But today, I’m reflecting on one part of this story… the place in the middle.
Growing up, I wasn’t the most talented and I wasn’t the most troubled. The world class gymnast was featured on the evening news and the abusive sibling was sent away. Meanwhile, I was usually mistaken for the sister that I most looked like.
In my family, extreme behaviors, both positive and negative, were the ones that won time for attention. This is true for large families and it’s true for companies.
Though I didn’t live at either extreme, I care about people who did. But I also care about people who thrive and suffer in the in between, and struggle to be seen, heard, supported, and rewarded. Just because your talents aren’t newsworthy doesn’t mean they don’t have an impact. And likewise, just because your actions aren’t criminal doesn’t mean they don’t hurt others.
I’ve made it my mission to improve the employee journey at all stages and for all employees. And I mean ALL employees. Founders, interns, rock-stars, fuck-ups, and every single one in between.
I look forward to sharing more stories of my unique upbringing and the influence its had on my values, work style, and mission. This middle child finally knows how to be heard! “I’m sorry, which middle child?” It’s Britta!
Dear Manager: Mental Health @ Work
May 17, 2019
On May 14, 2019, I spoke on a panel to discuss mental health in modern workplaces— including the unique pressures of the creative industry, and the rising rates of emotional and psychological disorders.
The talk was part of the Dear Manager campaign from Made of Millions organization, and Britta was one of an impressive group.
All of the panelists introduced themselves by opening up about their own mental health challenges—from anxiety disorders, to OCD, to depression. As someone who knows Britta well, and knows her to be honest about such subjects, it was still incredibly powerful to hear her speak so honestly in front of a crowd. This gesture of visibility is one step towards normalizing a topic that is highly stigmatized, despite awareness and education efforts worldwide.
For me, there were a few main takeaways:
>>> Change often happens from the bottom up. While organizations and executive leadership can be slow to change, managers have power (and a responsibility) to support their direct reports—by creating space for honesty, adjusting work styles/habits/processes accordingly. This is a key message of the Dear Manager Campaign.
I agreed with that idea, and noted that sometimes a small change can make a big difference (like adjusting work hours or time offsite). But, she also added that some managers are realistically going to be more supportive than others, and peers can be allies to one another—employee to employee, manager to manager, executive to executive.
>>> Often, there are national and corporate resources available, but people don’t take advantage, largely due to stigma and fear of judgement.
After the talk, Britta and I reflected on this further. Mental Health is the main reason we advocate for Wellness Programs in the workplace. There’s a reason ‘wellness’ is trending—and an understanding that it encompasses all kinds of health (physical health, mental health, emotional health, relationship health, spiritual health, etc.) Practices like meditation, yoga, breath work, become more mainstreamed and accessible, and can be an entry point into important mental self care.
>> Unlike some other factors that put people at risk or disadvantage (race, gender, many physical disabilities), mental health is often invisible and potentially less discussed. The panelists discussed how invisibility can contribute to stigma.
This conversation was thought-provoking. I’ve been reflecting on privilege and intersectionality since we began developing our own Sexual Harassment Training Program. In the early stages, we found it impossible (and irresponsible) to teach about gender discrimination without also addressing other protected classes like race, religion, ethnicity, disability, age (there are over 20 protected classes in NYC). We quickly expanded it to Workplace Harassment, and made it a goal to make the mandatory content as relatable as possible. While Mental Disability is a protected class under civil rights laws, many who endure emotional disorders wouldn’t consider themselves disabled, even if they suffer from lack of accommodation or bias. I hope we can find ways to create space and raise awareness, formally and informally, in our practice.
Thank you so much to Aaron Harvey, Made of Millions, the co-hosts, and panelists for including us in this event.
Resources:
madeofmillions.com
intrusivethoughts.org
Articles:
HOW TO 'COME OUT' AS AN EMPLOYEE WITH MENTAL ILLNESS - AdAge May 16, 2019
4A’s AND MADE OF MILLIONS CALL ON AGENCY EMPLOYEES TO START CONVERSATIONS ABOUT MENTAL HEALTH - Adweek May 3, 2019
Download:
BEAUTIFUL BRAINS - A mental health manual for the modern workplace.
Beautiful Brains is a six-step program that helps modern businesses implement progressive mental health policies. It covers everything from stigmatizing language and employee accommodations, to confidentiality plans and cultural initiatives.