Sammie D. Kaleland

https://vimeo.com/101550559

With a live feed going to four continents, our management team transparently sharing Medallia’s progress, and an executive wearing a chicken suit, our quarterly all-hands aren’t your run-of-the-mill meetings. This past quarter, however, things got even more interesting when a fully choreographed crew flashmobbed the stage for a chicken dance unlike any other. This improbable troupe was comprised of client solutions reps, recruiters, HR ninjas, an engineer or two, and the VP of Marketing decked out in the storied suit — led by a former Juilliard instructor with a law degree.

All of them, of course, were Medallians. But where did they get their moves?

On any given evening, down a corridor with a subtle thumping at the end, you can enter the yoga room to find it transformed — and be met with sweat, smiles and squeaking shoes filling the new “dance studio.” In this secret space, novices and pros alike move (almost) as one to the ever-present 8-count of Medallia’s hip-hop class. While some of these sessions focus on moves, others on lyrics, and the rest on beats, they all are united by blaring music and Medallians — veterans and onboardees — staring into the studio’s mirror, stumbling, laughing, and finally getting it right.

Launched as a passion project by attorney-turned-Medallia-recruiter Amit and designed as dance class for beginners, it’s nonetheless brought fancy footwork out of Medallia’s woodwork. Like Jihan, an HR coordinator with four years of salsa lessons under her belt. Or Justin, a Customer Solutions analyst who balanced civil engineering with dance troupe participation while at Cal Berkeley. Also hidden amongst the first timers is social dancer Dom from Recruiting, who attends every class without fail — and Michelle, our VP of Marketing, who in a past life was an aerobics instructor.

With a different routine each week and a no-pressure signup policy, the class has become an underground hit. There is no competition, no judgment, and no expectation other than to have a good time. And to bring it on when duty calls.

When it was time for the all-hands flashmob/moral support performance, nervous excitement melted into grins when Medallia’s chicken suit-clad VP of Marketing finally beckoned for backup. As they emerged from the crowd, took the stage to assume formation, and wait for the count from a beatboxer (fresh out of a meeting with a client), even the dancers who beelined for the back row had a smile on their faces. What they were thinking as their arms flashed and knees popped in front of their coworkers we’ll never know, but we do know that wherever Medallians’ Secret Life emerges, we’ll be there.

Until next time,

Sammie D. Kaleland