I usually write stories about people I admire. This is a story about qualities I do not like very much. These kinds of people have a lot to teach us.
I once had a co-worker who repeatedly shrieked,
“You have to collaborate!” She was careful to do so when others were not close enough to hear and she was very unhappy unless I did everything her way. In her mind, collaboration looked like unwavering acceptance of all her good ideas. With some distance between that time and now, I see the problem quite clearly. She couldn’t bring herself to trust me. Good partnership is contingent upon trust.
New to teaching, she spoke in her interview about longing to be mentored, she was an open book, like a seedling ready to be watered and fertilized in order to grow into the position. She presented as absolutely delightful, came with lovely references, and was snapped up and invited into the fold. She believed her self-assessment was as a hungry learner but did not know herself very well.
Rather than observe the ways in which I planned, researched, prepared, and taught, my new partner preferred to wade in with gusto, unprepared, alone, and very proud of her choice to do so.
“This is my learning style,” she said, “doing.” She struggled constantly with feeling insufficient and this was a source of great anxiety for her. It was often painful to watch and I looked for places to affirm her, hoping to gain her trust.
Soon it became clear I needed help, navigating her mood swings was more work than managing the children, though the children were always my priority. I called for administrative intervention in the form of mediation which helped us limp along through the school year. I learned more that year about how to thoughtfully communicate and co-exist with a difficult co-worker than any other time in my life. I communicated carefully, invited vulnerability into the room, and made certain to protect myself in the process. Observation, empathy, and generosity were my salvation.
To be clear, I was miserable. I survived the year by writing a mental book of kindnesses for myself, strategies I used to get through the day, affirming what I knew to be true about my own goodness. I chose what to pay attention to and leaned into the healthy examples set by others. Most days I’d offer up a silent breath prayer of gratitude when walking out the door. We’ve all had times like this.
Folks, there’s no getting around it, there are a lot of people who don’t know themselves very well. It’s likely you work with one of them. I hope you’ve figured out by now you can’t change the unfixable reality, some people are like that ship stuck in the Suez Canal for six long days, obstructing progress and costing the rest of us dearly. For those working with difficult people, I would suggest you approach it with the same caution as you would entering a dark room, knowing it’s probably going to be fine in the end, but you’d rather not trip and twist your ankle. Make your own list of affirmations and carry it with you before you step into the room.
Intention and observation are my best go-to strategies and they could be yours, too. To live without intention is to live within the construct of elevated self. I think what we need right now is something very different, a focus on the collective. Trust people who know a lot and let them teach you things. And if you can’t do that, please get yourself out of the canal, we need to move past you.
Copyright (2021) Suzanne Bayer. All Rights Reserved