Today at work I had to tell an older gentleman that he was “probably not a good fit”. He’s perhaps 65, has done very high-level computer work in the past, including network admin. The things I am asking him to do are below his (former) level of functioning, but it seems painfully obvious that he’s just not able to catch on after a couple weeks on the job.
It feels like I’m firing my father. Like my dad, he’s forgetful and scattered -- not quite present when you talk to him. Giving signals that he’s not quite telling himself the truth.
This made me wonder if I’m not simply moving in that direction unaware as time marches on. Am I really all that different? I imagine that it’s just some generational thing (“They were all like that back when.”) … What will my kids say about me?
I was lamenting all this with a peer afterward, and began (as I do) to make broad statements about why things are as they are ... you may recall that I am a good former-fundamentalist. I said that I thought emotional health boils down to telling ourselves the truth, and dealing with that truth reasonably. My apologies for recycling post material.
Why don’t we? What are we afraid of?
(enter bearded therapist with notepad)
I often fear loss of control. I want to do things my way, because I do not trust. I fear what I don’t know. Death. Loss. Loneliness. Rejection. Insignificance. Hemorrhoids. Damn, my list could get long quick.
I see why the only way out is to forget about my miniature problems as frequently as possible, and give myself away to help somebody else. There is no fear of death when you have already died.
The paradox of insular language
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We often develop slang or codewords to keep the others from understanding
what we’re saying. Here’s an example (thanks BK) of the lengths that some
are goi...
1 year ago
7 comments:
"Giving signals that he’s not quite telling himself the truth."
Are you saying that this old (recently unemployed) fart knows that he can't hack it and is telling himself that he can?
My wife has a class room full of 1st graders that have been told that they can do anything, be anything. Some of them don't know how many fingers they have. They can't be anything. Some will do well to be something
On some level, he has to know. It is truly beyond obvious to everyone else. It's making the whole thing quite difficult.
Silliness is the standard for public education and all forms of social structure. You can't be anything. A duck can't be a squash. You can be (and should be) consistent with your nature. What the hell is that, you ask? I don't have the foggiest. That's for each of us to figure out, I rekon.
But what of the "Little Engine That Could"? I do struggle with this as far as children are concerned. There is a time for encouragement and a time when reality makes further encouragement inappropriate. As a manager of workers I'm sure you are faced with the same struggle. How do we draw that line.
Each person should be encouraged to do what they are good at (or at least what they have potential to be good at with development): that is, what their natural abilities and inclinations lead them to. I suppose encouraging little ones to be “anything they want” isn’t so crazy if you assume a person will only want to do things related to their giftedness. Everyone has some unique set of talents. Me for example, I can confuse any meaningful conversation into mumbles within 35 seconds. I can expel gas the likes of which … well, I can drink, smoke, peddle a bike, and think fondly about my wife simultaneously.
You can order my motivational tapes on the “Gar Store” section of this blog.
What irks me are the ideas that everyone should be the same, or that any person can do anything well. Adequate – perhaps, but not well. That’s what the apple farmers call Skitsnack.
Btw, no one is reading this dribble but you and I. Shall we bust on everyone else? I've been in that sort of mood ...
It is sad though when adequate just isn't good enough...what do you think festi, jeanne and la fille would all be equally good at?
They all get a "C-" for parking tractor-trailers. Jeanne is always turning too tight, festi manages to swerve even while he's going slow, and fille is busy chatting on the CB radio.
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