A collection of anecdotes, reflections and memoirs
Max Neil W Maximchuk
This is a picture of me in my younger days. My exterior has changed somewhat but I still have much of him on the inside. I'd like to share with you some of the experiences and reflections we've had over time. Have a look at the stories and choose one or more that might appeal to you. (There are more in All Stories.) The first week of each month will bring a new anecdote in this series of memoirs and reflections, with the exception of July and August.
I retired. Yes, as unbelievable as it sounds, that is my status.
It hasn’t been all that long, and I’m still hard at work on a number of projects. If you know me at all, my spirit and my drive have not retired. They are there to lead me on for several more years, God willing, to finish up some of the projects and ventures I have embarked on.
I still have my hand in the profession and in the field of education, but I have to say I don’t miss the majority of the bosses I have had, or the obligations they have felt to interpret and follow, those directions & systems that almost invariably seem to miss the point of why we are there in the first place.
Reflecting back on some of those bosses has led me to writing another story. Unlike most of the other stories you will find at Harvey Skidoo Tree, this isn’t an account of one specific person or situation. It is a composite of different people bringing out several features that I have often seen in different forms in the workplace. Perhaps you might recognize a few of them from your experiences.
I haven’t written this piece to place judgements or to encourage a certain viewpoint. I deliberately left the story somewhat open in various aspects to allow in some variety of circumstances. I’d like you to witness the scene and let your own thoughts, feelings and conclusions come into play.
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Most of us, if not all of us, have run into bullies of some type at some time. While not all use physical violence there are definite risks when encountering one.
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FEATURED STORY
ANOTHER BULLY
A bully walks into the room. You know he’s one because people notice him, are affected by his presence. It’s not his charisma, but perhaps being an effective bully does carry a certain amount of charisma along with it. Maybe the conversations don’t stop, but eyes flicker to his direction and just as quickly the glance retreats into itself. The conversations in progress continue but take on an almost imperceptible change, as if they are prepared to move in a different direction. The shields are going up, the masks are being adjusted.
He walks further into the room, perhaps to get something. The people around him tense slightly as he approaches, shoulders tighten, postures and gestures slightly less animated. As he passes by and it is discovered that no interaction is required, the shoulders drop a centimeter or two to regain their almost original position.
He stops at one, somebody is chosen. She laughs and is almost theatrically interested in his words and his intentions. She immediately enters the theme and where the lines of conversation might take them. She is practised in this art and knows she can take what he gives out. She almost welcomes the opportunity to pit herself against him, but she has work to do and he doesn’t offer much of a challenge. She can deflect, diffuse and redirect his words and intentions to other quarters, but she doesn’t do this automatically. She lets him play his cards, permits him to test the waters. Maybe there’s something there that could be of use to her.
He says something that’s clearly intended to be a modest joke and she responds by laughing, perhaps a touch too much, but even that is in her favour. His tone hints that this exchange will soon be over. He had to make a mark of some kind and her projected image tells him that he has accomplished his goal.
He ties it up and she waits to see if there will be more following. Best not to be the first to break it off. He signals the end, she graciously acknowledges it and he moves on. The next row of people are more relaxed now as they know he will brush by them without a thought and they are momentarily free from his antennae.
He gets what he wants, feeling good about himself and the reactions he’s getting. What his sensors tell him is that the people are acting in accordance with his expectations. There are no anomalies sending up a flag or two. He turns to face the door that introduced him to the room just a short time ago.
There is a slight relief mixing in with the unstated uncommunicated tension as he starts his journey to the entrance now transformed into an exit. Along the way a brave one makes a comment, asks a question that is more like a statement which two conspirators, two allies can share. It is recognition of a mutual agreement, requiring only a response or two as he continues to head for the door.
He might even briefly stop to pursue one idea a bit further but the theme was wisely chosen to be neutral and with little capacity to initiate further exploration. Still, there is always a slight risk as tangents have been known to appear and take at least one of the participants into unwanted waters.
The interaction is thankfully brief and he continues on his way nonchalantly. The brave one is also practised in this art and as familiarity is increased, so is the potential strengthening of the bonds. One needs and uses the other. There is agreement there.
Out the door he saunters. A final goodbye from one in the crowd quicker than the rest to get it in and almost immediately the others chime in. Its tone has a disarming mix of respect and familiarity. He walks away, pleased with himself.
The conversations continue, no different than they were before but with perhaps a bit more animation. Nervous laughs, limbs suddenly emphasizing some point, the noise level rises a decibel or two. Another successful deflection. Everyone is safe and no-one has been singled out. Now the personal spaces can expand once again. Everything is good until the next time, but that will be later.
The bully inexplicably gives in to the urge to whistle a tune as he makes his way down the corridor. Then he stops suddenly in the melody and in his steps. He has forgotten something. He turns to head back to the room waiting for him.
AFTERWORD
I think that there are different kinds of bullies and that it is a mistake to generalize from experiences with one or a few. There is an unsettling unpredictability about them, at least with some, and while it is tempting to underestimate them, that would be an even greater mistake. Like mosquitoes, they probably have their function in our ecological systems, but I am at pains to discover what it is. Perhaps we haven’t evolved enough to be rid of them and the destruction they stimulate. What new ambitions we could entertain that would fill their absence leaves me with a quiet optimism.
A FEW CLICKS
Here you can listen to the stories as they are narrated by the author.
Print or download a copy for you to read later at your leisure.
This is directed towards English teachers. Connect to MEC where you can find materials and ideas to help you in your classes.
If you like what's been presented here or have any comments or questions, I'd love to hear from you.
COMING NEXT ISSUE
TO BE DETERMINED / WRITTEN - - The next issue will be in September. (I need to both recharge my batteries and catch up on some of the pending projects.) Have a great summer and perhaps have an adventure or two of your own!
A REMINDER
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