Moving Beyond Culture Shock, Trauma and Doubt as a Global Leader

Welcome to your weekly 1 on 1, where I tackle some of your most challenging questions concerning Engineering, Global Leadership, Life in Japan, Work Life Integration, and more.

Today I'd like to offer a reflection on Fatherhood.

I've always wanted to be a present father. I grew up in a relatively stable home with blue-collar parents who worked hard to provide financially while also being present with us. I remember my father working challenging hours as a plant manager at a Japanese ink company. Some of my most celebrated times with him would be on Saturday mornings when he would go into the plant to do extra batches of ink. I would often wake up early and go to work with him. 

I would pack up my PlayStation 1 and Crash Bandicoot in a backpack and he would set me up on a small tube TV. He'd give me a couple quarters to buy snacks from a vending machine and I'd be set for the next 5 hours. While he was making ink and providing for the family, I enjoyed special time away from home playing some of my favorite games. He would sneak me around the office while the lights were off so I could see the cubicles and all the manufacturing equipment. For me, it was a magical time as I experienced a piece of my dad's world. But for him, he probably felt the tension of being present as a father while still meeting the needs of his job. 

Twenty-two years later, I'm now a global leader within Johnson& Johnson based in Japan navigating the same tension. I continue to wonder if I'm present enough with my children while also meeting the demands of my role. As a father, I want my kids to feel like they can be a part of my world… or better yet, that I'm rooted in theirs. 

Today I want to provide you the space to process this same tension in your own life and discover how it can often be influenced by the trauma of your past. 

In the last 3 years, I've experienced more panic attacks, anxiety, uncertainty, and depression than I have in the last 31 years. At the same time, I've been entrusted with more influence, resources, and responsibility than ever before. While externally I emote the vision, confidence, and the calming presence of a global leader... internally I war with imposter syndrome, apathy, and fear of failure. 

If we pause for a moment ... I would anticipate that many of you have felt the same in a given season of life. A pressure to emote an external self that is dissonant with your internal self. A global relocation only amplifies this dissonance.

My family's journey to Japan was wrought with suffering and unimaginable complexity. In the course of one year, we relocated 12 times with three children 5 years old and younger. Here's the speed version of the unimaginable. 

In February 2020, I was interviewing for "The Front End Innovation Lead Japan" role. My job would be to connect with Japanese clinicians, understand their unmet needs, and then advance meaningful product innovation. Well, in March of 2020, there was a small bump in the road called COVID-19, which delayed the role by one and a half years. 

In April of 2021, I was reoffered the role and told that we may be able to relocate quickly as we thought Japan would open for the Olympics. This was a false assumption, but because the housing market was promising, we sold our home and JNJ provided us temporary housing in a furnished Cincinnati apartment. This apartment had a massive bedbug infestation which caused us to move to a hotel, Chicago with family, back into a hotel, and then back into the original unit. During the months of living out of our suitcases, the trauma experienced by our family grew. 

Finally, in November of 2021, we were told we would get an emergency medical Visa and be able to enter Japan. So we moved out of our Cincinnati apartment and went to Chicago to say goodbye to family for Thanksgiving. The day before we received our Visa, Japan closed the borders again due to the Delta Variant. We were then displaced in Chicago for five months, living with family, in a hotel, and in a furnished apartment. 

It was in March of 2022 that we finally immigrated to Japan first living in a furnished apartment in Omotesando before settling in a home in Tokyo. And after a year of waiting, our furniture and possessions that were packed when we sold our home finally arrived in Japan. 

So why do I share this long-winded story of uncertainty, fear, suffering, and victory? Because after over two years later, the trauma of our family's relocation still deeply impacts me both at home and in the workplace. I'm a different person than I was before all this global shenanigans.

A few months ago there were a series of layoffs in US R&D. Many of my friends, colleagues, and mentors were impacted. I was privileged in that many key leaders from both Japan and US R&D advocated for me... and because of them my role was preserved. 

Yet the trauma of my past still triggers me to work out of fear of displacement.

Thoughts like, "I can't put my children through another international relocation and another disruption of their schooling, friends, etc." Meanwhile, organizational volatility in R&D impacts the probability of success of "innovation from Japan". So I find myself overworking to "control my fate" while at the same time, unable to work because of apathetic feelings about things outside of my control. 

And across all of this, a consistent pressure to put on the "mask" of vision, confidence, and a calming presence. At home, I struggle to be a present father as I feel the pressure to provide stability in Japan. I do things for my kids... But am I really present with my kids when we spend time together? 

As I work across timezones, my mind is torn across worlds and I lose presence in all spaces. It's a challenge from this job that I never fully anticipated and it's had a huge impact on the dynamics of our family.

Over the years I've developed great coping mechanisms to navigate these external challenges, yet one of the hardest to embody is honesty. Honesty with myself as I'm struggling. Honesty with my wife and children when I'm struggling. Honestly with my management, senior leadership, and the teams that I lead. It takes vulnerability and honesty to bring our whole selves to work. Yet, when we're navigating a trauma response this can be incredibly difficult. 

Recently my expense reports became so delinquent that my company card was temporarily suspended, leading to a legitimate panic attack. I felt like that there was no way to help my manager understand why something so simple was now so complex in a different cultural/language context. Despite my insecurities, I expressed the pressures I had been navigating and how so many expectations continued to slip basic tasks like expenses/email/etc. into backlog. What started as a conversation of my failure to meet compliance expectations, transformed into a moment of authentic vulnerability. That day marked a noticeable shift in how my manager started to circle around the problems I was facing... In many ways, I started to feel like he was in my corner. After almost two years in Japan, I'm finally starting to find my way as an innovator, global leader, and most importantly as a father. I'm learning how to be open and honest about what my limitations are, and setting healthy boundaries so I can be fully present. I'm working less and living more. As I prepare for the arrival of baby number four I'm preparing for parental leave as well. Working across global boundaries and mixed business priorities can crush a leader if healthy rhythms of life aren't established. This is amplified if you're also leading from a position of culture shock, trauma, and doubt in your own abilities. So let me provide you with a moment of reflection. A moment to be honest with yourself. What pressures from work are impacting who you are at home? How can you overcome your fear of being perceived as weak if you share your struggles authentically with family and colleagues? Honesty with our coworkers and leadership while uncomfortable, is a superpower. It makes us "real" to one another. It builds trust. It makes you stronger when you reveal your greatest struggles. But give yourself grace as honesty is a muscle that is grown over time. 

As a final note, get the help you need. I know there are many stigmas about mental health, but you really need someone trained in these spaces to be your guide on the side. There's much you need to process before you can build the courage to share pieces of your trauma. It's also the responsibility of leaders to recognize trauma within members of their teams and create space to accommodate them as needed. This responsibility is not possible if these leaders don't first process their own trauma and heal. Last month I shared a magic moment with my own son. The entire JNJ Japan team set up a family day for employees to bring their kids to work. In the morning my son packed his backpack with his Nintendo Switch and we rode the train together to the main office. On every floor, different JNJ operating companies created MedTech experiences for kids. My son dressed up like a surgeon, performed laparoscopic surgery, and explored a wide range of technologies. Here's a brief thank you note I wrote to the Japan team who hosted the event:

I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for organizing and executing Family Day. The experience was deeply moving for both me and my son Hezekiah, and I’d like to share why.

Before Hezekiah was born, I used to spend very late nights in the lab working on robotic software for the OTTAVA system. But once he arrived, the integration of work and family changed as I found purpose as both a global innovator and as a father.

Sometimes I would still have late nights in the lab, but Hezekiah would join me in his stroller. I’d feed him his favorite snacks while I debugged my code. Cincinnati campus was very casual, so I would often bring him to work with me and show him the wonders of Ethicon.

For the last year and a half, he has asked me if he could visit JNJ Japan headquarters to meet my friends. He had a genuine desire to know you and see how our work helps people around the world. Family Day was so special for Hezekiah and you all did an amazing job creating fun, enriching experiences. Just as I can struggle to find my place within Japan, so does my son. Thank you for giving him a moment to pretend he was a surgeon as it helped us both feel like we belong.

My hope in writing this blog is that it may also give you a sense of belonging as you navigate life's various contexts.

So to all the fathers, mothers, and aspiring future parents, know that you are enough. Both within your work context and to the families you serve.

Be present wherever life leads you. 

And as always... keep changing the world. 

~ The Pretentious Engineer