Caught
9.13.06
She swoops down on him like a brown feathered hawk narrowing in on a robins baby blue egg and I wince, wishing I could telepathically warn him to sit up, put his notes away, pretend to be paying attention. But no, she the Human Resources watchdog has closed in and from the back of the room where I stand stretching my legs, I can see her inspecting his crouched back, his mis-laid attention. She exchanges a word or two and suddenly escorts him and his paperwork out of the room. My friend the rebel, the will-be sailor nurse, is out on his butt for not paying absolute rapt attention to our HIPAA compliance lecture, most likely not even allowed to re-attend this New Employee Orientation, deemed unfit for this small intransigence. His table mate had been reprimanded earlier in the morning for speaking with him during the Infectious Disease talk and I was admonished for taking and spending too long a time on a personal call. We were threatened with having to repeat this absolutely mind numbing 36 hours of rules and regulations, policies and procedures, values, visions and quality control. Wrist slaps; next time the principals office.
The irony is that we had just been lectured on diversity and how we should embrace everyone's differences and this man had revealed yesterday that he never takes notes because he is an auditory learner. He digests things better when multi-tasking, which today he was doing by reviewing his class notes for school while listening to the lecture. The guy next to me, however, was sitting upright, looking for all the world like he was riveted by the speaker, yet was sound asleep. Others were doodling, I was day dreaming, and who knows what the rest of us were thinking. Was he singled out because he refused to don "casual" professional attire? (Today wore one of those short sleeved button up Cuban style shirts, light blue with white embroidery; yesterday the forbidden jeans) Or because she caught him a second time?
Now, this I can understand. He had been warned once, so perhaps this rebel didn't really want the job, the overhead and paperwork, the P&P manuals he'd have to follow. Maybe he'll get a second chance at the training, who knows. But the whole thing made me think about the fallacy of democracy, when only a certain set of rules allow you to join the game. When only the privileged (by virute of money, education or connections) truly enjoy the cornucopia our society offers. If we have to don uncomfortable attire (pantyhose and ties, instruments of torture) and fill out every request for a pencil in triplicate and sit at attention to receive information, are we really free? I understand corporate perogatives and have freely chosen to join a certain set thereof for the moment, but I am reminded of how much import we put on appearances. Another new employee, Hispanic with a pony-tail, in the Housekeeping department, was a model attendee, the perfect example of the immigrant success story I imagine. He gets to keep his job, or at least start it, because he played the part. The other man, a caucasian ER tech, gets booted because he just learns and looks differently. Reverse affirmative action based on...posture?
How many morbidly obese heads of corporations are there? How many "ugly" women get news anchor jobs? How many short people become President? Who dares wear a purple hat to an interview? And when we knowingly tempt the disapproval of our superiors or colleagues by pushing some envelope of proper dress or conduct, what are we looking for? To stand out in the crowd, thumb our nose at authority or get caught in our true desire to not really be there at all? When we choose not to fit in rather than are born apart, when and why do we decide to express that individuality and when do we tame it? I wore fishnets today instead of pantyhose in my own minor extension of the middle finger. But will that feel like enough? If I were "caught" in violation of dress code, what would I do?
We were told during the Excellence in Care section, to treat all member with CUT (Care Understanding and Take Action) and that people read us 7% from our words, 38% from our tone and %55 from our body language. Perhaps the rebel was using his body to say what his spirit could not yet, that he didn't really want to be there after all. I hope he finds his cause, if not at Kaiser, someplace where he can be himself and plant and nurture the seeds of his dream. On the open waters, nobody cares what you wear; no wonder he's half way there.
She swoops down on him like a brown feathered hawk narrowing in on a robins baby blue egg and I wince, wishing I could telepathically warn him to sit up, put his notes away, pretend to be paying attention. But no, she the Human Resources watchdog has closed in and from the back of the room where I stand stretching my legs, I can see her inspecting his crouched back, his mis-laid attention. She exchanges a word or two and suddenly escorts him and his paperwork out of the room. My friend the rebel, the will-be sailor nurse, is out on his butt for not paying absolute rapt attention to our HIPAA compliance lecture, most likely not even allowed to re-attend this New Employee Orientation, deemed unfit for this small intransigence. His table mate had been reprimanded earlier in the morning for speaking with him during the Infectious Disease talk and I was admonished for taking and spending too long a time on a personal call. We were threatened with having to repeat this absolutely mind numbing 36 hours of rules and regulations, policies and procedures, values, visions and quality control. Wrist slaps; next time the principals office.
The irony is that we had just been lectured on diversity and how we should embrace everyone's differences and this man had revealed yesterday that he never takes notes because he is an auditory learner. He digests things better when multi-tasking, which today he was doing by reviewing his class notes for school while listening to the lecture. The guy next to me, however, was sitting upright, looking for all the world like he was riveted by the speaker, yet was sound asleep. Others were doodling, I was day dreaming, and who knows what the rest of us were thinking. Was he singled out because he refused to don "casual" professional attire? (Today wore one of those short sleeved button up Cuban style shirts, light blue with white embroidery; yesterday the forbidden jeans) Or because she caught him a second time?
Now, this I can understand. He had been warned once, so perhaps this rebel didn't really want the job, the overhead and paperwork, the P&P manuals he'd have to follow. Maybe he'll get a second chance at the training, who knows. But the whole thing made me think about the fallacy of democracy, when only a certain set of rules allow you to join the game. When only the privileged (by virute of money, education or connections) truly enjoy the cornucopia our society offers. If we have to don uncomfortable attire (pantyhose and ties, instruments of torture) and fill out every request for a pencil in triplicate and sit at attention to receive information, are we really free? I understand corporate perogatives and have freely chosen to join a certain set thereof for the moment, but I am reminded of how much import we put on appearances. Another new employee, Hispanic with a pony-tail, in the Housekeeping department, was a model attendee, the perfect example of the immigrant success story I imagine. He gets to keep his job, or at least start it, because he played the part. The other man, a caucasian ER tech, gets booted because he just learns and looks differently. Reverse affirmative action based on...posture?
How many morbidly obese heads of corporations are there? How many "ugly" women get news anchor jobs? How many short people become President? Who dares wear a purple hat to an interview? And when we knowingly tempt the disapproval of our superiors or colleagues by pushing some envelope of proper dress or conduct, what are we looking for? To stand out in the crowd, thumb our nose at authority or get caught in our true desire to not really be there at all? When we choose not to fit in rather than are born apart, when and why do we decide to express that individuality and when do we tame it? I wore fishnets today instead of pantyhose in my own minor extension of the middle finger. But will that feel like enough? If I were "caught" in violation of dress code, what would I do?
We were told during the Excellence in Care section, to treat all member with CUT (Care Understanding and Take Action) and that people read us 7% from our words, 38% from our tone and %55 from our body language. Perhaps the rebel was using his body to say what his spirit could not yet, that he didn't really want to be there after all. I hope he finds his cause, if not at Kaiser, someplace where he can be himself and plant and nurture the seeds of his dream. On the open waters, nobody cares what you wear; no wonder he's half way there.
posted by Barbery at 8:07 PM
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