My Gen Z Team Member Says ‘No’ to Me at Work Often. I [Probably] Figured Out Why.

Beyond the superficial ‘no’

“No, not doing it.”

Sigh.

I [really] hate pushbacks… especially when time is tight.

The Board Meeting is scheduled for this afternoon. The team has worked hard for the past 2 days preparing for the session. All C-Suite will be present. Our team will be in the spotlight.

The meeting will start in 2 hours.

And we are in a race for time.

“Isabelle, I am only asking you to print out the PPT for the Board Members attending on-site. It is not a difficult task.”

This is what I heard.

“Not doing it. It is a low-value task. What are you going to tell me to do next? Buy coffee? No, not doing it.”

I acknowledged her counter and smiled.

“You Can Go Back to Your Desk.”

Just for your information, I did not say anything out of character or spite.

I was too tired to do so.

I needed to focus on my presentation during the Board Meeting. My senior manager, Angel, reminded me repeatedly to give my best.

“The Board is pleased with APAC’s sales revenue this quarter and would want to understand our progress better. The limelight will be on us. I trust you will do a good job. I will give you this opportunity to present.”

My heart was filled with appreciation.

Good bosses are hard to come by.

Angel doesn’t claim my credit as hers. That, to me, is the best I can expect from a reporting supervisor. I have worked for a-holes before. I know.

And I got my team to build the presentation slides together. I want them to present their work individually so the recognition will be associated with their names.

We worked hard for the past 2 days to perfect the PPT. Really. We did.

Dora and Alex understood the stakes. Angel made herself available for coaching.

This is unnecessary. Remove this slide. Say this instead.

I would have never imagined the extent of effort required for presentation to the senior executives and the Board. My eyes opened.

And I didn’t forget Angel’s softer touch coaching notes.

“Remember, the Board members are in their late 50s & early 60s. Staring at Ariel font size 14 on screen is difficult for them. Always have a printout for deskside reference. And get hot tea. It shows that you care.”

I put that to heart.

I have met them previously as Angel’s supporting member in a Board meeting. I know what she is talking about. She made sense.

When Isabelle pushed back on my request — I made it a point to explain it to her. My words went nowhere except the garbage bin.

“Why must we do this? We can increase the font size, brighten the contrast on the screen, or bring down the blinds so the screens are clearer. There are many things we can do. We don’t have to waste paper.”

At this point, it was 2 hours before the Big Show.

Anxiety overwhelmed me.

I approached Dora instead.

“Dora, can you go print 15 copies? Make sure it is 2 slides per page. The board members will be scribbling on the printout. Print single-sided, okay?”

Dora did not fight back. She grabbed her laptop and went straight to the printer.

The only question she asked was this.

“Staple or bind?”

I love that.

Staple and slide them into individual files, I said.

She left the meeting room and worked on the necessary. Alex came forward to ask if I needed assistance. I asked him to get tea and coffee.

“Okay.”

And he left.

Isabelle observed all these from the back. She appeared nonchalant. I say appeared because that was how she looked like to me.

I didn’t bother. I was busy testing the projection of slides, the clicker, the microphone, the visibility of the PPT from various angles of the meeting room, and ensuring ample seats for the Board members in the room.

I was sweating in an air-conditioned room. Isabelle stayed at the back of the room, leaning against the wall.

Sensing her indifference, I told her to return to her cubicle.

Fireworks in the Meeting Room

All the Board members arrived 5 minutes before the presentation.

They were chit-chatting, flipping the printouts, and sipping their drink. Angel, my senior manager, was there to engage them while I prepared myself.

My meeting started on time.

It was a great start. The Board members were pleased with APAC’s performance and congratulated Alex and Dora for doing great work. I was happy.

But it did not last.

One of the Board members accidentally spilled tea on his top, printout, and the table. I paused my presentation. Angel walked over with tissue paper, and Dora started cleaning the table.

I remained at the front of the room with my clicker.

Angel requested Isabelle to get a packet of wet tissue and a jacket from the outside.

Isabelle refused.

“Sorry, Angel. No. I am listening to the presentation.”

Nothing new. I expected it.

But.

One of the Board members caught that. She turned around, established eye contact with Isabelle, then asked this question.

“Does it not bother you that your boss asked you for help because she is busy? This is a legitimate request.”

I sighed and got paranoid. Anything can happen at this point.

I was worried about the impression Board members have on my team. Impressions stick for a long time.

Isabelle did not disappoint.

She stayed put.

Unmoved.

The Board member looked away, turned to me, bewildered, and was [I assume] expecting me to say something.

I offered to go.

She didn’t let me.

“Young man, your job today is to be in front and share the results of your entity. Stay there. Your performance is excellent. But work on your leadership. You must build a supportive team.”

I acknowledged that.

Angel, done with the spilled tea by now, stood up straight and stared at me.

My knees went jell-o.

The Close

I was chilling by the pantry when the Board meeting ended. In truth, I was washed out.

Dora and Alex came by, said hi, and were chit-chatting. They were light-hearted.

Suddenly, Alex’s observation caught my attention.

“Whose Maserati is it? I never knew someone drives a Maserati here.”

What Dora said next shocked him. And me.

“It’s Isabelle’s.”

Alex almost spilled his coffee. He kept repeating you’re kidding me like a broken recorder. I was lost in my thoughts.

Could it be?

Could it be that… Isabelle doesn’t need this job?

I was observing the Maserati while sipping my coffee.

Maybe.

And maybe… that’s why?

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