Corporatology: Author's Note
Structure, for me, is not the enemy. It is the scaffolding that allows me to build calm in the storm. I’ve spent the last several years of my career inside the corporate machine.
Confession Before Data
“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.”— Colossians 3:23
Before you read a single teenylittleword that I've penned here about the sickness of The System, you should know this:
I love business. I love teams. I love collaboration. I even love meetings, tag-ups, "synergies" (but we hate that word, don't we?), whatever you call them in your space of the bullpen life.
I love the smell of a fresh process doc and the satisfying click of a pristine, formula-loaded spreadsheet. I geek out over a good handbook (policy now!) — one that brings order to chaos and helps people feel safe inside their work. Never fear, I will read that thing cover-to-cover unashamedly.
Structure, for me, is not the enemy. It is the scaffolding that allows me to build calm in the storm.
I’ve spent the last several years of my career inside the corporate machine. Call me Cogsworth.
I earnestly believed in it, too.
I believe in helping people find clarity, designing systems that work, and building culture with both heart and precision. I love my people with my whole heart. I love the mission. I love turning chaos into order and watching people breathe again when things finally make sense — centering myself as every t was crossed and i was dotted. Page by page. Line by line. Hour by hour. Tick-tock.
So when I write about the cracks in the system, it’s not from bitterness. At this juncture in my journey, it’s from heartbreak. Because I still believe business can be beautiful. I still believe leadership can be holy work. And yes, a beautifully automated slide deck is still enough to get me into bed (ask my notsonerdy husband).
But love tells the truth.
And lately, the truth has been unraveling me in all the right ways.
Because somewhere between the titles and the deliverables, I realized — as Manny Arango says, “you can’t be who God called you to be and still be who the world wants you to be.”
And that’s where this story begins.
