I took a trip back to where I spent the majority of my young
to mid adult life just to see what was happening in my old line of work –
social service. I went to one of my
first employments to see what has changed in how child welfare was handled there now;
from the stories I had heard, there was not near the intervention that there was
back in the day. I walked into the
building and immediately saw my old boss speaking to an old friend. My old friend gave me a look of total
disconnection – partly my own fault as I had lost touch with a lot of my
past.
I approached the two women talking
and noted my old friend was being reprimanded.
Some things didn’t change at all.
But as much as some things changed, a lot had. The business was now being run out of an
alternative school, in what appeared to be maybe their old cafeteria yet the
school was still active. I sat at an
actual school cafeteria table alongside new and old employees of the establishment
and chatter started. Past co-workers
quickly asked if I was coming back to stay and resume working there. They almost pleaded as if they needed some
sort of assurance I would be there and have their backs. Paulette, my previous “boss” was not always
the easiest woman to get along with, and in my younger days, I didn’t take any
crap – not even from her. Back then, co-workers
quickly gathered around my side, and I wound up being the go-in-between for
them and the “boss”.
Paulette and my old friend approached. I gestured to hug my old friend and she
whispered in my ear, “Ever since you left Deana, she has never let up on me!” I whispered back my apologies and promised to
help her, patted her on the back, and gave her a squeeze of reassurance on her
arm that all would be fine. Paulette
than addressed me asking what was the honor that brought my presence. I told her I was merely taking a trip down
memory lane and touching base. She quickly went on to tell me what all was
new (the obvious- location, new staff) and of course left out what has never
changed since I left (her cold heartiness). She then took a breath and asked me
what I was doing these days and the rest surrounding us listened on and watched
with curious eyes and ears. I saw the
nosey factor had not changed at all! I
proceeded to tell Paulette about my business and about my wonderful team. You could see her employees’ desires to be even
remotely acknowledged by their boss.
Paulette though typical of her norm, quickly stated, “Well you can’t
make much money from a business of that sort.”
I responded, “Oh, you would be surprised!” She rebutted with how much
she clears through her “social service agency” which I felt was an oxymoron in
itself since it is a non-profit, but again typical. I told her how wonderful that was thinking maybe
she would drop the bankroll chatter. Nope;
I should have known better, it wasn’t enough to satisfy Paulette’s thirst for
always having to be one up on the next person.
She responds, “Well how much did you clear?” Drawn quickly back to my younger days
mentality, gloves off, no holds barred by her snide attitude, I responded “We
cleared over a mil last year and our predicted benchmark for 2013 is looking to
be around 2 mil or more.” (Of course this statement was a very broad exaggeration, but I am told to think big now, so big I did!) There was some
distance gasp from her work staff and an actual jaw drop from Paulette - but
only for a second, as she had master the quick overcome years ago.
Paulette quickly asked me if I would mind going on an errand
with her, that she was in the middle of starting a new foundation and would
like my input. Input my ass, she was
looking for a hand out, but my curiosity was up so I was game. She told me she had to take care of something
first and then we would be out the door in 10.
I was good with that because I wanted to touch base more with my old
friend first.
I approached my old friend and asked her
what was going on and she went on to tell me that Paulette is non-stop ragging
on her about her work and her report writing.
Mind you, this is the oldest remaining employee on Paulette’s staff, the
same one who trains all the new hires and could very easily take that business
and make it one of honor rather than the sleazy reputation it has to date. I reminded her of those FACTS and that
Paulette’s problem is she is jealous of her and feels threatened by her at the
same time. The only thing that separates
the two is Paulette’s two masters; my dear old friend has a bachelor’s
degree. I went on to tell her that whenever
she has had enough there was always a place for her in my company. She has impeccable writing skills and would
be a wonderful asset. However, her heart
is with the children she services and fears if she leaves, the children who are
already suffering from the lack of care received through the agency, would only
become worse. Needless to say, I told
her the offer stood and that I was proud to call her a friend due to her
undying dedication. We hugged again,
exchanged numbers, and promised to meet for dinner before I left town.
Paulette was now ready to go. She informed me it was just a quick walk down
the block and across the street to where we were heading. The neighborhood, although never the best,
has become increasingly worse, but I accepted the walk. We walked down the street. I had forgotten what it was like walking next
to Paulette with her long as giraffe legs.
It took me 20 steps to equate to one of her strides. I caught myself almost having to sprint to
keep up, just to remain close enough to hear her pitch about her new
foundation. It came time to cross the
street; a busy 4 way where no one gives a care about some pedestrian. As we dart across the street through the
oncoming cars, I see a group of young men and one boy (maybe 14) headed to the
same corner as we were. I divert my
direction just down from the corner the young men (probably ranging from mid
20’s to early 30’s) were headed. I successfully crossed the street only making
one car driver feel the need to honk.
I noticed that the group of young men
were not men but rather grown ass punks.
One of them, fully bearded, grabbed up the 14 year old from behind and was
restraining him a good two feet off the grown when next I knew another one of
the punks struck a full blown fisted swing into the 14 year old boy’s face. My blood boiled! I look over to Paulette and see her at the
door where we were to enter; ringing the bell – everything stays locked now and
you have to make your presence known first before gaining entry in the
area. I shout out to her, “Did you see
that shit?” She acted as if she did not
hear me, but I knew damn well she did. I
turn to the group of punks - no further than 20 feet from me at this time and
yelled, “Leave that boy alone. Put him
down!” along with quite a few other colorful words and threats. Who the hell did I think I was at 48 years of
age considering taking on a group of eight to ten 20 odd to 30 odd
year old punks? It didn’t matter to me
at the moment. I have a 13 year old at
home and was only seeing my own sons’ face at the moment. I hollered at
Paulette again and told her to call the police as I reached into my pocket and
no cell! How the hell could I forget my
cell! It was like Paulette was immune to the violence that was taking place
right in front of her eyes as she ignored my request and stayed focused on the
door waiting for her entry.
Before I knew it there was a 30 odd year old man in my face backing
me into an entryway corner making hand gestures to my face as if he was going
to hit me. He didn’t say a word. I quickly reached my hand out and grabbed him
by the throat – without thought - and just started squeezing the shit out of
his throat – no words came from him. And
as I felt my hand tightening around his throat, I could feel his cool skin and
the excess of it in my hand, the squish of the skin -as if there was so much of
it before I felt the bone in-between my thumb and fingers – I let loose and
realize just what the fuck I was doing.
I began to yell at him telling him to be a fucking man and leave that
boy alone. It was all happening so fast,
it seemed like forever, but was minutes, maybe even seconds. He began to speak but no words came – he was
deaf. I had learned sign language early
in my social service career and signed to him as if to confirm what I already
knew “Are you deaf?”
A sense of
amazement took over his face when he realized I could sign. I went on to sign “leave that boy alone. WTF?
He is just a boy! Be a man, grow
up! Tell your friends to put him down now or I will call the police!” I turn to
look for Paulette to see if she had called the police, she was nowhere to be
seen. Yet another Paulette oxymoron, as
she is in the business to help children being abused yet turns away from it
even when it is right in front of her face. I was on my own, no phone, no cars
stopping, and no one else in the entire area giving a damn about anything other
than themselves!
The man backed away from me some – it was like a door opened
pointing me into the direction I needed to go. I need to help that boy and
approached the group of punks with a vengeance.
Yelling and screaming and acting like a total crazy lunatic that just
escaped 20 years imprisonment from a mental institute, I rush the crowd. Signing at the same time as yelling - various
threats came from my mouth along with various vulgarities, along with kicking
and swinging, sometimes only at the air, other times making contact, I made my
way to the young boy, face bleeding, tears streaming his face, and a look of terror
I pray I never see again. The dreams are
hard enough. I grabbed him although
still being held by the other bearded punk.
I begin to plead through sign and words trying to reason with the group
to stop the madness and to let the boy go but I’m really not sure what was
coming out of my mouth or even what I was signing anymore.
Maybe it was the madness that came out in me in
that brief period that caused the group to dissipate leaving me with no more
than a trembling boy in my arms – I am not sure, but no part of the experience
was lost on me. I found lessons to be
learned in life, business, and personal growth in all of it.
Although parts of this story are fictional, parts are
not. Can you find the life lessons, the
business lessons, and the personal growth lessons in this story?
Who do you relate to the most? The old boss – Paulette? The
old co-worker? The beaten down boy? The bullies? The gang (group of punks) mentality? The bystanders (employees)? Or Deana?
