5

NO ROOM AT THE TOP

The proposed raise was generous; who could say otherwise? Company heads Jack and Betsy Forsythe were fond of Claire and had told Dan Torres, the editor-in-chief, to go ahead and give her the bump in pay, but to be discreet about it. The last thing they wanted was the rest of the staff hearing about a 30 percent raise.

Claire Quinn was an associate editor with Open Wide Media Group. She was just over five years out of school and a reliable, creative, smart employee well regarded by her company. Recently, though, she had become frustrated. Her starting salary had grown incrementally each year, and now she was seeing younger friends—recent graduates—offered what she was currently earning, as well as some close college friends who’d gone to business school now entering a more lucrative job market. She had begun looking for other publishing jobs and, finding nothing in the area as interesting as the long-form feature writing she occasionally got assigned at her magazine job, she’d started to consider whether she should look for positions outside journalism or go to graduate or professional school herself.

Claire had arrived at Open Wide Media as an unpaid college intern for the company’s flagship print publication, City Eyes. Interns had long been a key part of the company’s successful business model. Once Claire graduated from college, she became a preferred candidate, first in line for a newly vacated editorial assistant position, a job she held for a little over a year before being promoted first to assistant editor and then last year to associate editor.

While her role expanded over the years to include more responsibilities and creative assignments, Claire continued to carry many of the duties of her first job—an accretion of tasks over the years and a seeming loss of none. It was a testament to her goodwill, energy, participation, and humor that she managed them. Other staff came to rely on her for efforts that her continuity and institutional knowledge made more efficient: seamlessly anticipating and arranging meetings, putting together actionable agendas, scheduling regular author calls, giving gentle reminders. In short, she did many things a managing editor would be expected to do—but without a managing editor’s title or pay.

To friends who asked, Claire was quick to respond that her discontent wasn’t only about money; she felt locked into a prescribed hierarchy that gave her little room to grow. She wanted to be part of a creative team, working to develop magazine stories and issues together under deadline, but long days were becoming routine with no end in sight, leaving her little room for reflective work. Performing, and excelling at, routine editorial tasks—proofreading, filing, copy editing, and scheduling—had made Claire a capable associate editor for the company’s print and digital offerings, but she wasn’t becoming any more skilled at developing a good story, which was what she loved to do.

Claire’s job had become a mixture of intern, assistant, and associate editor responsibilities, but “wearing many hats” was wearing thin. The variety of things she was responsible for, Claire believed, kept her from fully participating in meetings or doing her best writing. At her current rate of development, she didn’t see how she could achieve the autonomy, skill, and relatedness on the job that she had read were keys to career advancement. Claire had pored over the requisite career books about passion and doing what you love, as well as their opposites, such as So Good They Can’t Ignore You: Why Skills Trump Passion in the Quest for Work You Love and Quarterlife Crisis: The Unique Challenges of Life in Your Twenties. That was Claire’s quandary: develop skill or passion?

Claire had heard about other twentysomethings in the workplace who loved their jobs in today’s journalism but couldn’t rise into the rarer air of editorial management. She knew the almost-too-good-to-be-true story of the pair who quit traditional television news producer jobs to create their own targeted email newsletter. It may have had a start-up business model, but it succeeded as a flatter, more collaborative enterprise than what Claire experienced in the world of work.

Lately it seemed that all Claire’s pitching in was simply hiding the fact that the company was understaffed, routinely crashing against deadlines, and barely bridging the seasonal gap between intern shifts. She scheduled staff meetings, distributed agendas and notes, handled freelance queries, edited features and departments, proofread, handled permissions, liaised with other magazine staff, and handled intern applications and interviews. Consequently, she was treated as favored personal assistant by the executive editors Jack and Betsy, who relied on her.

It frustrated Claire that her proposal to rotate office chores wasn’t going to be implemented without Dan’s direction. She also wondered why they were switching vendors so often; did this decision come from her bosses or higher up? The changing environment was a challenge for a staff like theirs to manage, and it all left little time for original work.

Open Wide Media

Open Wide Media is a family-owned company producing several regional print and digital publications and special events. For nearly 40 years, it has been owned by the Forsythe family, and day-to-day business is handled by the family head, Jack, and his eldest daughter, Betsy.

The company, which has an annual revenue of $2.5 million, publishes City Eyes—a city-centered lifestyle monthly—as well as four quarterlies with a variety of special-interest themes. A creative staff of 10 produces the print publications and digital platforms, and takes the lead on company-run special events. Circulation hovers around 20,000 monthly; print advertising revenue has thinned as digital and mobile markets have grown.

Magazine staff includes Editor-in-Chief Dan, Managing Editor Vicki Weber, and Senior Editor Rebecca Owen, all of whom have been with Open Wide Media for more than 15 years. The assistant editor, Jess Perkins, was hired last year from the intern pool. A large crop of unpaid interns circulate through the office on half-yearly assignments in editorial, design, and photography, and the publications couldn’t go to press without them. Although the magazine has seen periodic turnovers at the entry level and lower-paying staff positions, there has been no room at the top for well over a decade.

In the Dark

Dan knew there was little financial transparency at Open Wide Media. He wasn’t thrilled about how the intern group had grown over the years, and how they had become so necessary to the everyday function of the creative department, particularly. His budget was a moving target, and with advertising revenue falling off, he had to devise ways to keep the Forsythes happy and the staff engaged. Yet he was proud of the fact that even though growth was so flat, during his tenure things were stable, and he hadn’t had to lay off staff.

Dan also knew he needed to create new revenue streams for the magazine business—and a series of custom publishing projects with the business team seemed like just the ticket. He hadn’t presented his ideas to the Forsythes yet because he first wanted to talk to Vicki about the editorial staff’s current workload, and how best to incorporate a couple new, short publishing schedules over the next few months. He hoped they would be short, anyway.

Claire’s Proposal

At her latest performance and salary review, Claire had put forth something new—that the company create a position of features editor, which she would fill. It would enable the company to both schedule and budget features for the long term, and consequently better coordinate advertising. Such a master schedule was something magazine staff had long talked of, but a plan had eluded them. Claire explained how her current role would mesh with the new one, allowing her to circulate among the company’s main print offerings, overseeing feature content and quality for each. Supported with staff input, she would synthesize and research feature ideas, commission freelance work, and oversee the writing of staff and freelancers, as well as edit and rewrite. Those tasks that didn’t fit the new role could be renegotiated or reassigned to the current assistant editor, Jess. It all made perfect sense to Claire. She was trying to develop her purpose and mission, and get feedback.

When the senior staff was alone after Claire’s review, Vicki said, “You know how I feel about Claire, but is it possible she expects too much from us?”

“Can we afford to add senior staff?” Rebecca added. “Is she asking for more responsibility than she can handle?”

Dan, who still hadn’t shared the custom publishing project idea, wondered if Claire would accept the Forsythes’ raise if they didn’t agree to her new role.

Had Claire outgrown her job and organization, like others of her age and experience? Had the organization declined to grow and make room for her?