Tribute to the champs

They may be faces that are too familiar, because they are family. For my partners though, seeing their families in an unfamiliar place – in the workplace – brought a moment of disbelief, a deserved surprise, and a stream of warm joy that set aside their weariness as they go through the last days of another difficult busy season.

It was last Friday, the 13th, around 3 p.m. when we pulled off for the first time an accounting busy season “heist” for the partners of the firm. I need to explain to my readers that in a partnership organization in the accounting profession, the partners are considered the owners of the firm. But, they are industrial partners, first and foremost. This means they do not just instruct a stonecutter to hammer away at a rock. Partners take their own hammers and hammer away themselves until the rock breaks. But that is not the end of it. They also see to it that the rest of those who hammer are taken care of. My partners are competent professionals, yes. But they are people persons to the core.

A couple of years back, we did the Starbucks surprise for our people on the last day of filing tax returns. My partners were almost sleepless, with bags under their eyes, and their energy low. But when it was time to spring the surprise, they put on their aprons, got hold of the trays of Frappuccino cups, and went around with a siren to prop up everyone with the cold uplifting beverage. The weary staff enjoyed it; my partners enjoyed it more. There always seems to be some reserve energy left for the staff that somehow never gets fully exhausted. Partners will try to soothe, even if they themselves need soothing.

Truth be told, we do our best to take care of our people, and make their lives better, as much as we can, especially during the busy season. Our people eagerly take turns in getting free back, shoulder, and head massage from blind masseurs during designated evenings in relaxation rooms. Our company doctor goes around to check their blood pressure and health condition in general. Yes, some of our people do get sick from stress.

One upside of the busy season is that food is always made available. But what melts our hearts is when our alumni would send food over to us. Retired partners, resigned managers, and former staff members now working overseas would never forget, and would send a feast (some even anonymously) during this crucial period.

You see, the busy season in an audit firm is so dreaded that people go through their own Gethsemane and get stressed before the actual stress starts. The work volume, especially because of late client submissions, can overwhelm even our best and brightest, but also make the seemingly average perform extraordinarily well. And it’s not just the volume – it is the constant attentiveness to detail, the thinking that accompanies every routine, and the brand-defining effort that goes into every financial statement, every return, and every report.

These final outputs hide the human drama behind its creation. The stress pushes our people to post cryptic, but meaningful, messages on social media such as: “The bamboo. It will bend, but will not break.” Or meaningful but funny posts such as: “The struggle is real,” and “April 16, so near, yet so far.”

To be fair, the profession is not just about the busy season. The whole year is a collage of technical and ethical issues, changing international accounting standards, intense regulations, and rising client demands coupled with proportionately inverted fee expectations. Overcoming these challenges wouldn’t matter if the firm does not deliver on crunch time, “the” day where accountants and tax authorities alike strangely share the same interest – getting the financial reports and tax returns filed on time.

Back to the Friday the 13th “heist” we pulled – all the partners’ executive assistants were in it, along with our Human Capital people. They all acted and lied to their teeth about this meeting in the office, about an important meeting with me, about reschedules, etcetera. And volunteers kept the partners from seeing them sneak family members into our training room. When I ushered the partners into the room, their expressions changed from being tired, to startled, to that of pure joy. Their spouses, children, parents, siblings, nieces and nephews were there to deliver a message that “you are always there for us, and now we are here for you.” That day, their home went to the office. “Nothing but love in that room this afternoon,” said one of my partners.

An elderly mother who cannot be present for one of our young partners sent a video message from Bacolod. She said: “I am so lucky to have a son like you.” It is one message any child would want to hear from a parent.

Before I forget, popular fast food mascots Jollibee and Hetty were waiting in the wings that Friday. My partners and their family members went around the different departments, led by Jollibee and Hetty, to give Champ burgers to our people who cheered and smiled like the real champions that they are. I take this opportunity to give a shout-out to the rest of my colleagues in the different firms for holding strong to your own fortress of stress. I raise a glass to all of you.

And to my partner champs and our staff champions: I know, it’s just a big burger, but we all get the point. Me? Well, I am no champ. I am a cheerleader, and my heart is full.