The Annual Performance Review Season
It's performance review season. Today I drafted about 2000 characters of my self-assessment and sent a meeting request email to the director.
Last year's performance period ran from April to December, but I was in suboptimal condition for nearly half of it—from June to September—due to a bicycle accident and a broken foot. That made me feel uncertain about this year's review even before it began. With my condition being at its worst for roughly half the period, I wondered how much performance I could realistically have delivered. The evaluation grades haven't been released yet, and I haven't had the evaluation meeting with the director, but while writing my self-evaluation today, I found myself thinking: How much better could I possibly have done even if I'd been working at peak condition? (hahaha) A short period, worst-case conditions, the whirlwind of alternating remote work and office days, all while the company stock price fluctuated, the CEO sent an organizational restructuring email to all employees, and I grappled with career worries—amidst this chaotic time, I still got the necessary work done and even challenged myself with things I wanted to try. My hard work showed. I really went through a lot.
Every year after writing my performance review and waiting for my rating, there's one thing I look forward to: the comments from my superior. Contrary to his seemingly cold exterior, our department head tends to write his comments warmly and thoughtfully. The moment I first received the comments, I always teared up and couldn't read them properly. Somehow, knowing he understood my struggles and hardships made me feel a little embarrassed, so I never brought them out to read again. But today, for some reason, I felt like taking them out and reading them again. Rereading the comments, I realized that it's because of a manager like this that I've become a fourth-year planner who speaks up and keeps challenging myself at the company. With the resolve to reread them more often starting this year… I want to revisit them alongside my own comments.
2021 Superior Evaluation & 2022 Comments I Leave
Minseok has always been placed in roles demanding more than he could handle since joining the company, yet he consistently rises to the challenge—truly remarkable.
- Reading this line makes me tear up every time, so I can never finish it properly. A role demanding more than he could handle, someone who consistently rises to that challenge, and describing him as remarkable. I'm always grateful that you see a better version of me than I see myself, and it makes me want to keep striving to live up to that.
You're always studying new things, sharing information that helps the squad, and trying various approaches. Furthermore, your willingness to step up and help with anything that benefits the squad or organization, without limiting yourself to your own job scope, is an incredibly valuable contribution.
- Sometimes I wonder if I'm being too pushy, or if my squad teammates might feel burdened by my efforts. Hearing comments like these gives me renewed energy. And whenever I start to get a little too comfortable, it becomes a motivating trigger again.
You possess the strengths of positive thinking and relentless effort, so there's no need to feel impatient with yourself. I know that the experiences that may be difficult now are becoming one by one precious experiences you are building for yourself, and through them, you are continuing to grow. Therefore, I hope you keep trying various things, even if you fail.
- The power of conveying the message "There's no need to be impatient, you are continuing to grow" not just through looks or circumstances, but in clear language, is much greater than you might think. Thanks to that, you were probably able to become someone who achieves results even amidst difficulties. The road ahead is still long and deep.
I pulled it out again because I wanted to revisit the post that former Ridibooks CTO Nam Hyun-woo left upon leaving Ridibooks, which I happened to see this morning.
Source: https://namenu.github.io/last-msync.html
> farewell @ m-sync 20200116 > Most companies, including ours, proclaim the pursuit of essence. Truthfully, no company advocates against it. Yet it rarely succeeds. Why? Because we don't truly grasp how close a task is to its essence until we start it ourselves and get our hands dirty. Realizing how close a task is to the essence took anywhere from six months to three or even five years. Looking back, we'll surely recall many things we diligently do daily now that, in hindsight, were far removed from the essence. But what can we do? We have to keep working somehow. The problem is that the average tenure of a typical IT company employee is shorter than the time it takes to determine whether a task is truly essential. Consequently, a certain phenomenon emerges: people rarely get to experience the entire cycle – starting a project, watching it grow, and then cleaning up the mess. Some jump from company to company, only ever starting new projects, while others get hired in a hurry by companies trying to clean up messes, do only what they're told, and burn out. It sounds harsh to put it this way, but… basically, the person who shits and the person who cleans it up are different. Of course, gaining deep experience in each role is important, but I also think it's incredibly important to have opportunities to connect these experiences and reflect on them. There are definitely things you can only learn by doing both – not just setting problems or solving them, but also grading them. If there's an effective way that doesn't stray from the essence, isn't it precisely through this kind of experience that you learn how not to make mistakes?
This piece felt somehow similar in context to the comment the Director left for me, yet it also served as another clue for me. Things you can only truly understand by both creating and solving problems, and then grading them. I'm currently in the process of diligently solving problems. Someday, I'll create problems myself, and then solve those problems again. I'll pick up a red pen to circle answers or draw lines through mistakes. And someday, I'll understand the answers I once crossed out, and change those lines into stars. And the day will come when I neatly fold that exam paper, tuck it into my bag, and set off down a different path. When that day arrives, I'm sure I'll remember this very post.