In June of 1951, actor George Reeves was offered a role in the newly-developed television series Superman.  Up to this point, Reeves had been a bit part actor in various movies, including a small role in Gone With The Wind.  At first he declined, since he didn’t think TV was going to be significant enough to boost his career, but ultimately took the job.  From 1952 to 1958, Reeves became Superman.  The contract forbade him from seeking other jobs and he embraced the superhero role.  He made public appearances, staying in character even out of costume (he even refused to smoke cigarettes in public in order to give a wholesome image to children), and seemed to enjoy the fame.  Privately though, he lamented the fact that he was typecast in this role.  In 1959, he committed suicide.  The police report summed up the tragedy as being caused by the depression Reeves felt at being known forever as Superman.

We can look at many other celebrities and performers and see these same patterns.  Sometimes even an attempt to break out (check out Garth Brooks as Chris Gaines) fails miserably.  At some point, we either own the role we’re typecast in or take steps to break out.

But can we create these personas in others without meaning to?  Yes.  And it can be unhealthy.  It’s another example of boxes we put others in.

How Does it Happen?

Ted is an administrative employee in a medium-sized business.  His job is to provide administrative support but privately, he wants to own his own business.  Ted dabbles a bit in computers as a hobby.  His knowledge comes in handy around the office as he’s able to fix computer issues for himself and others.  He also enjoys implementing what he learns about computers at home in his day job.  Soon, he develops a reputation as the guy who can fix computers even as he’s becoming less and less interested in them, focusing instead on how to start his business.  He wants to make contributions in his job based on what he’s learning about business, but more and more he is only valued for his computer skills.  Nobody takes his business suggestions seriously because he’s “the computer guy.”  Eventually, unable to break free of his “computer guy” persona, Ted quits his job, starts his company, and looks at his computer past with disdain.

Ted was me.  It took a long time to shed that persona.  And even though it was innocent enough, it was easy to typecast me.  I had skills that I didn’t particularly value, but others did.  In order to change my narrative, I had to break free completely.  More on how to do that next week, but for now, we all need to be careful about putting people in a persona box.  Here are some suggestions, particularly if you are The Boss:

  1. Get to know others for WHO they are, not just WHAT they do.  Even if a person wants to be defined by what they do, there still is a human element that needs to be discovered.
  2. Thinks less of people as a resource to be used and more of a team-member to work with.  By referring to people as “my admin support” or “my I.T. support” you are treating them as a role rather than as a human.  Consider looking at all of their contributions.
  3. Work to identify OTHER talents that a person has.  If they are good at fixing computers, ask them what else interests them.  Take an interest in their career development.  Ask them if they are indeed happy with this persona as “the computer guy” or whatever else they are seen as.

I think all of us crave freedom to be who we really are.  We all need to be careful not to build a box for someone without asking their permission to do so.  George Reeves’ story is a tragic one.  Let’s be sure we aren’t recreating this for somebody else.