Progress
I have to stop occasionally and forcibly remind myself that when I started my last job, lo these 16 years ago, I hated it at first. Distinctly and forever fondly will remember that first (only) summer of nearly-endless relaxation; learning to play the piano (neenle-ner), riding my bike everywhere, fighting with my roommate (the beginning of the end of this silly business of living with other people), bumming around with absolutely no structure to the day. Warm bloody marys on the beach. (bwisk!) Maybe I'm elliding a few seasons, but that smooth, seductive slide into the second year of a gig that was destined to last longer than anything I'd ever done in my life, that was transformative. I got suckered.
So I haven't been at all convinced about this new gig. I look back on my old job with nostalgia, carefully repressing the many factors that made me long for alternatives (such as the evil bitch of a colleague who made my life as her Department Chair hell, and the perpetual uncertainty as to whether we would keep the doors open another year) and miss only the cameraderie of that tight-knit community, the certainty that my opinions were valued (and oh, I do love to opine!), the unwavering trust of my peers, the constant assumption that mine was the voice of wisdom and insight. Not to mention hugs in the halls, and the clear knowledge that I was beloved of my students. It's been HARD to have to prove myself, to have people question my contributions (what??? Do you have any idea who I AM????), distrust my judgment, accuse me of not doing an adequate job. This rather came to a head when a colleague whom I had hitherto respected and admired attacked me in the hall as I was administering my students' final exams in December. Small, intelligent, and fierce, she got all up in my shit about how I wasn't doing an adequate job, and I, whose tendency is to doubt first and fight later, bought right into it. I was an emotional mess then and for quite a while afterward, unable to fathom the source of her vitriol. Later I came across her in the hall venting about me to another colleague and felt profoundly undermined, unappreciated, unwelcome. Over the holiday and at the beginning of this semester, I agonized over the question of whether to invest in staying, or begin to work toward another gig. It's very hard to imagine where that would be, as I occupy an incredibly small niche in the educational world. The chain of events that led me here was astounding in its intricacy; each link connected with the utmost synchronous delicacy to the next. Pretty much an unduplicable sequence of events. And beside, this is the best school in the city, perhaps in the state. It is ideal for me in so many ways. But still, if I cannot find my place here, I won't be able to stay.
So last week I sent this woman an email and asked for a meeting. When she arrived, she was quite friendly. I told her that, now things are more calm, I would like to address her concerns. It helped that she immediately admitted that her timing had been off. I concurred, and then dove in with my version of the events. She was flabbergasted and burst into tears, which she immediately assured me were the result of another interaction of the same flavor which she had recently had with a different colleague. She had no memory or awareness of having been inappropriate in expressing herself. I stuck to my guns and stomped ahead, exhaustively articulating the details of my concerns, and she rebutted bravely, if tearfully. We actually came to a quite wonderful place of genuine communication, which had been my goal. "It is my hope," I told her, "that in time you will come to trust that I abhor bullshit and game-playing. I will weed out these issues that bother you, but cannot do so immediately without triggering potential lawsuits, of which I live in constant fear." She thought for a moment and then responded, "So you can't badmouth your predecessor, although he left you with this horrible random bureaucratic tangle that pisses off everybody who has to deal with it, and thus with you." Exactly. "So everything that is left over from your predecessor's screwups becomes something for which you get blamed." Precisely. "I see."
She did.
We spoke quite honestly about her tendency to rant when she feels ignored or dismissed, which was apparently what I had experienced, for reasons unrelated to me and my work, and I asked how constructively to handle her when/if that were to happen again. Her suggestion was that I honestly tell her in the moment that I feel attacked, but I had to respond that my own battle is to trust my own feelings in the moment. My first reaction is to assume that I have, in fact, fucked up, and to become defensive.
We ended on an incredibly positive note; far, far more honestly connected than we had been before. And she now knows that I will call what I see, even if I risk alienating or offending somebody, even if it is incredibly awkward. It fascinates me how we rarely want to confront, but we are incensed when other people won't confront us. "Why didn't you just SAY so???" Well, cuz you're a fucking bitch, that's why. Now, as has been my plan since day one, I have begun to lay concrete foundations for a reputation built upon honesty. I will, by all the gods, tell you if your skirt is stuck up in your underwear, while others will let you walk around like that all day, because they don't want to be the one to give you the bad news. Why would we rather let somebody be humiliated all day than to tell them to their face that they need to get that spinach out of their teeth?
It is a fascinating question. But I can sleep the sleep of the just, and know that I have begun to build my new community.
So I haven't been at all convinced about this new gig. I look back on my old job with nostalgia, carefully repressing the many factors that made me long for alternatives (such as the evil bitch of a colleague who made my life as her Department Chair hell, and the perpetual uncertainty as to whether we would keep the doors open another year) and miss only the cameraderie of that tight-knit community, the certainty that my opinions were valued (and oh, I do love to opine!), the unwavering trust of my peers, the constant assumption that mine was the voice of wisdom and insight. Not to mention hugs in the halls, and the clear knowledge that I was beloved of my students. It's been HARD to have to prove myself, to have people question my contributions (what??? Do you have any idea who I AM????), distrust my judgment, accuse me of not doing an adequate job. This rather came to a head when a colleague whom I had hitherto respected and admired attacked me in the hall as I was administering my students' final exams in December. Small, intelligent, and fierce, she got all up in my shit about how I wasn't doing an adequate job, and I, whose tendency is to doubt first and fight later, bought right into it. I was an emotional mess then and for quite a while afterward, unable to fathom the source of her vitriol. Later I came across her in the hall venting about me to another colleague and felt profoundly undermined, unappreciated, unwelcome. Over the holiday and at the beginning of this semester, I agonized over the question of whether to invest in staying, or begin to work toward another gig. It's very hard to imagine where that would be, as I occupy an incredibly small niche in the educational world. The chain of events that led me here was astounding in its intricacy; each link connected with the utmost synchronous delicacy to the next. Pretty much an unduplicable sequence of events. And beside, this is the best school in the city, perhaps in the state. It is ideal for me in so many ways. But still, if I cannot find my place here, I won't be able to stay.
So last week I sent this woman an email and asked for a meeting. When she arrived, she was quite friendly. I told her that, now things are more calm, I would like to address her concerns. It helped that she immediately admitted that her timing had been off. I concurred, and then dove in with my version of the events. She was flabbergasted and burst into tears, which she immediately assured me were the result of another interaction of the same flavor which she had recently had with a different colleague. She had no memory or awareness of having been inappropriate in expressing herself. I stuck to my guns and stomped ahead, exhaustively articulating the details of my concerns, and she rebutted bravely, if tearfully. We actually came to a quite wonderful place of genuine communication, which had been my goal. "It is my hope," I told her, "that in time you will come to trust that I abhor bullshit and game-playing. I will weed out these issues that bother you, but cannot do so immediately without triggering potential lawsuits, of which I live in constant fear." She thought for a moment and then responded, "So you can't badmouth your predecessor, although he left you with this horrible random bureaucratic tangle that pisses off everybody who has to deal with it, and thus with you." Exactly. "So everything that is left over from your predecessor's screwups becomes something for which you get blamed." Precisely. "I see."
She did.
We spoke quite honestly about her tendency to rant when she feels ignored or dismissed, which was apparently what I had experienced, for reasons unrelated to me and my work, and I asked how constructively to handle her when/if that were to happen again. Her suggestion was that I honestly tell her in the moment that I feel attacked, but I had to respond that my own battle is to trust my own feelings in the moment. My first reaction is to assume that I have, in fact, fucked up, and to become defensive.
We ended on an incredibly positive note; far, far more honestly connected than we had been before. And she now knows that I will call what I see, even if I risk alienating or offending somebody, even if it is incredibly awkward. It fascinates me how we rarely want to confront, but we are incensed when other people won't confront us. "Why didn't you just SAY so???" Well, cuz you're a fucking bitch, that's why. Now, as has been my plan since day one, I have begun to lay concrete foundations for a reputation built upon honesty. I will, by all the gods, tell you if your skirt is stuck up in your underwear, while others will let you walk around like that all day, because they don't want to be the one to give you the bad news. Why would we rather let somebody be humiliated all day than to tell them to their face that they need to get that spinach out of their teeth?
It is a fascinating question. But I can sleep the sleep of the just, and know that I have begun to build my new community.