I remember in my early days with a major marketing corporation, I was more available than anyone. Including on Slack. The early risers on the trampoline firing off musings? I was responding, taking notes, and following up the next morning or taking the idea off Slack to email. The late-night parents checking in after kid bedtimes? I was there, filling them in if they had missed anything. I made sure my notifications were loud enough to wake me when the West Coast folks were checking Slack on their way home from the function.
As I settled into my positions and promotions (and got a life!) I slowed down a bit, but not much.
Now, as a consultant, being accessible is still the price of entry for me. Missing the wrong conversation can mean falling behind on something critical to a project I’m on the hook for. I don’t mind checking Slack, or whatever platform has the most action that week. The problem is how often, because somewhere along the way, “accessible” turned into “available at all times, in every thread, forever.”
I’m working on four projects right now. And I’m not support. I’m not “consulting input if needed.” I’m the lead on each one. So, there’s a channel per project, and usually a second, quieter side thread where the actual decisions get made. My W-2 counterparts are carrying one account, maybe two, and they log off at 6. I’m running four or five and checking all of them. They get a lane. I’m covering four lanes at once.
When I was full-time, I had strong opinions about this. Mute everything. Protect your evenings. The water cooler doesn’t follow you home. But the water cooler wasn’t paying my invoices back then.
There is no getting around it: The group chat is where the work actually gets assigned, before it’s official. I found out a project timeline moved up two weeks not in a meeting, not over email, but because a copywriter dropped a grimacing-face emoji at 8:47 on a Thursday night and I asked what happened. If it was muted, I would have found out Monday. And when you’re the lead, Monday is too late.
So, I can’t fully quit the outside chats. What I keep coming back to is when checking in stops being part of the job and starts being a second, unpaid one.
Let’s recheck the name of this column while we’re at it. As a consultant, I’m still the only Black guy in the office—except my office is five different group chats, and I’m usually the only Black person in every one of them, even in threads I’m barely part of. Going quiet reads differently on me. A white consultant who’s off the grid for six hours is “busy.” When I do it, I get a check-in text asking if everything’s okay, like quiet is a mood and not just quiet. So, I stay responsive for two reasons: the business, and because I know exactly how fast “hard to reach” turns into your whole reputation.
Where I’ve landed, for now: I read everything, not necessarily in real time. If something’s aimed at me after hours and it’s not urgent, it waits until morning first thing. People notice a rhythm fast once you set one. You can reach me when you need me. Just not on your schedule instead of mine.
Not a perfect system. I broke it in three different chats last Tuesday. But when I’m answering Slack at 11 p.m. now, it’s because I decided to, not because I forgot how not to.
