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At age 18, I worked at
a McDonald's restaurant in southern California. I was new to the
area and was the consummate "new employee" in my paper
hat and midwestern smile. The senior employees (you know, the 19-
and 20-year-olds) were in charge of the new employee orientation
"program."
This program
consisted of a series of humiliations for the new kid and included
assigning me to several of the more unpleasant tasks in the back
of the restaurant. Of course, no adolescent training effort would
be complete without the obligatory practical joke. My assistant
manager explained to me that the supply of potatoes were kept in
the basement and that the stock room employees who worked down there
were responsible for bringing up more supplies whenever we needed
them. All we had to do was call them on the intercom. "Intercom?"
I was further informed that the intercom microphone was on a retractable
cord on the countertop, right next to the sink. I was told to grasp
the microphone by its stainless steel top and squeeze the handle.
I could then communicate with the guys in the basement. Made sense
to me. It was kind of a funny looking microphone, but hey, this
was California, everything looked a little funny to me.
I was completely
oblivious to the other employee's snickers and to their anticipation
of my first stock order from the basement. It didn't take long.
"O'Connor, we're out of potatoes. Call down to the basement
and get more." Well, of course, there was no basement, no stock
room employees and this thing was not a microphone. As I reached
for the shiny, steel device, with the black pressure handle, there
should have been a little voice in my head crying, "No, don't
do it." But there was no voice inside my head and apparently
nothing else inside my head either. I grabbed the handle, yanked
the cord from its countertop resting place, positioned it squarely
in front of my face and squeezed.
I'm not sure
what I was aware of first, the gush of high pressure water that
smacked me in the face or the howling laughter of my fellow employees
watching this gullible putz from Michigan make a fool of himself.
This is not how a new employee orientation program should go.
Establishing
a solid orientation program for new employees should be based on
benchmarking what works well in other organizations and listening
to feedback from your current employees. Identifying similar employers
that have a low turnover and reported high morale is a good way
to get started. H.R. Magazine, in its November 1996 issue, references
how the National Semiconductor Corporation used benchmarking. It
looked to the Walt Disney Corporation as a model and incorporated
many of its factors into their program. Another employer was the
University of Minnesota. The university's focus is to both train
supervisors and to request feedback from employees. Supervisors
are trained about the purpose and process of the orientation. It
uses focus groups to elicit suggestions from employees. One of the
things to come out of these focus groups was a set of questions
that most new employees want to know. (See sidebar.) Many of these
questions can be applied to almost any employment situation.
Questions most
new employees want answers to:
- What is
really expected of me?
- How do I
gain acceptance?
- How do I
get ahead in the company?
- How do I
get rewarded for a good job?
- What is
the boss really like?
- I know the
policies and procedures, but what are the real rules of the game?
- How do I
fit into the total picture?
- Just how
much security do I have?
- What does
the company really do?
Using these
tested methods to improve your new employee orientation program
will help your new hires be better informed and more focused on
the priorities you want them focused on. It will also ensure that
your new people don't feel the orientation program is all wet.
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