Standing up in purple pants

By midafternoon on Fridays during the Minnesota summer, businesses experience a mass exodus of sun-starved workers rushing to their cabins. On one such Friday afternoon, I was at a dig.

The hole in the ground was 27 feet deep. Before there was a hole, there had been a 50-year-old manufacturing plant. This location in the building had motors with oil containing polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs). Every week, the room was pressure washed and over time, PCB-laden oil was driven through 12 inches of concrete pad and at least 27 feet into the ground.

The property seller was in charge of the remediation. Their environmental consultant was directing the seasoned crew onsite. At 24 years old, I was the lone representative for the buyer. My job was to observe the cleanup and take duplicate samples for verification.

I heard the bucket as it hit clay. The crew looked as though they had struck gold, as clay is a natural barrier. They were convinced the contamination must end at this point. In their view, it was time to sign off on the site as clean and head to their cabins for the weekend.

I expressed my concern about closing the project without the data proving their theory. They stared down at me, cursing that I was too young, too inexperienced, and too limited in my understanding of hydrogeology. Regretting I had chosen to wear my purple work pants and my hair in pigtails, I was tempted to agree with them.

My undergraduate degree had not fully prepared me for the art of negotiation. The motivation for the crew was obvious, as they just wanted to be done. I told my peer (the seller’s environmental consultant) he was correct in that I didn’t have the hydrogeology experience that he had. Gently, I reminded him that as scientists, we had an obligation to seek the truth through testing. I realized he didn’t want to get a bad reputation with his crew, as they were already hard for him to manage.

I volunteered to dig into the clay to get confirmation samples by hand. My peer agreed to observe. The crew looked on with amusement as I grabbed a shovel, then they loaded up their trucks and left. As it turned out, the PCBs had penetrated the clay, but thankfully not by much.

I made several mistakes that day but the lessons I learned I still apply as a leader now. In business, how I dress can sway the impressions others make of me. Data won’t motivate some people unless I can put it into personal terms for them. People are often driven more by emotion than by logic. Finding a way to relate to people who have different perspectives can foster trust and the willingness to compromise. Most importantly, I shouldn’t allow the personal biases of others influence what I believe is right.