 Not doing the right thing isn't worth it.
PHOTO: SHUTTERSTOCK |
Rob Vetter is technical director and managing partner with the Ives Training Group, in Blaine, WA, USA, a leader in North American mobile equipment training systems since 1981.
Have you ever found yourself on the fence as to whether to qualify a questionable forklift operator trainee? Recently, I was given cause to recall a time when I was in a similar position: relatively new to the job and having trouble with a trainee from Kenya who could barely communicate in English. I had managed to get him through the theoretical portion of the program but hit a bit of a wall when I evaluated him on the forklift, twice. I brought him back into the classroom fully prepared to give him the bad news that I just wasn't going to be able to get him through at his present skill level. As I started to do so, he began to cry, grabbed my hand and literally begged for another chance.
Being the benevolent soul I was, I agreed to do one more evaluation. I verbally reiterated all of the dos and don'ts, walked through the driving course with him, pointing out all of the operational procedures and techniques I expected from him, and then gave him some practice time before the final evaluation. I only had one working day to get this done and time was running out. It would have been my preference to give this trainee hours more training and practice time but, as it was, we only had minutes to work with.
He was terrible. Not reckless or foolhardy, he just hadn't had the time to get a feel for the machine and develop the skills to operate it with confidence, even though I could see that in time, he would. Every fibre of my soul told me not to qualify this guy. He needed more time and practice than I had the hours for and this would haunt me after I signed his certificate and sent him on his way. I tried to justify what I had done through the fact that the certification I had issued was restricted and that I had included documentation in the employer's trainee file, detailing my concerns.
The reality of the situation was that I felt sick to my stomach because I knew what I had done was wrong. I hadn't helped anyone. In fact, I had potentially put people in harm's way - namely, the operator and everyone that worked around him. I had also discredited the training program and my company. Imagine what his co-workers thought about the integrity of the training program as they watched this guy on the forklift.
Now imagine, if you can, the wrath of my boss at the time and the dressing-down I got when I reported what I had done. I got some degree of comfort some time later when I learned that the operator in question had moved on to another job that, thankfully, did not involve operating forklifts.
After my boss had given me both barrels that day, he softened up a bit and relayed his own story that ended somewhat differently. He had gone on site to train and certify some experienced operators at a bottling plant. Everything was running smoothly until one fellow, a seven-year veteran of the loading dock, fell flat on his face during an evaluation - twice. When I asked him what he did, he answered: "The only thing I could. He couldn't show me what I needed to see, so I failed him."
This is what I should have done, I thought to myself. However, later as he was completing the paperwork in a small office the company had let him use, a gathering of the failed operator's loading dock colleagues assembled outside the door. Colin went out to face the half-dozen workers in what he expected would be a confrontation and was shocked when instead of attacking him, they actually thanked him! They said that they had been "carrying" their colleague for years; he couldn't operate and everyone knew it. They just felt compelled and/or obligated to help out their buddy. And it gets better. As Colin was approaching his car in the parking lot, the operator he failed approached him and, to his surprise, thanked him too! As it turns out, the operator also knew he wasn't cutting it, but felt pressured to continue and, frankly, he was just too proud to walk away. Having the decision made for him in this manner took a lot of pressure off everyone.
The point of these stories is that if there is an operator who cannot or will not meet the minimum standard, you owe it to everyone involved - and to yourself - to call it the way you see it. If we let emotions influence our decision-making process, people could die. It's that serious.
I realize I am probably preaching to the converted here, as this column is generally read by safety-minded people, but I just felt it was a topic worth addressing because I'm guessing that at one time or another, we've all been (or will be) there. If my experiences influence even one trainer out there to do the right thing when confronted with a less-than-adequate trainee, it's worth it because I can tell you from the bitter experience of a day I wish I could have back. Not doing the right thing isn't worth it - for anyone.