Borstal Wednesdays on Teams

The Wednesday Dread

Wednesday mornings do not deliver the kind of impetus and encouragement needed to see the day through with a sense of purpose and an aim for achievement.

One is reminded of being in a secondary school morning assembly with all the trappings of a borstal; the headmaster traipsing across the platform, slapping the birch into his hand, and speaking in a booming voice of quarrelsome displeasure and pique.

Diktat Over Dialogue

For a gathering of professionals, where the distinction is more one of corporate hierarchy than any other gift or ability, the patriarchal and patronising tone of diktat over conversation rubs everyone up the wrong way.

One might want to consider that this manager is perhaps oblivious to the fact that those who report to him are indeed professionals. Besides, whilst there may be a case for certain colleagues needing some hand-holding, guidance, direction, or instruction, the broad-brush approach to generalisation over the particular and specific creates a rather toxic environment.

Morale and the Pulpit

It can be said that a majority do not leave the Wednesday powwow thinking they have been edified; it is moral-sapping, pulpit-thumping vituperation that easily slips into uncouth language, betraying both discourtesy and disrespect.

In the same vein, I appreciate that the higher-ups are under pressure to deliver results, but ruling by fear, deeming us stupid, or questioning our intelligence will get you nowhere.

We are here to do a job, not to be corralled like sheep or donkeys into some subservient role, subject to constant and unwarranted opprobrium. The borstal comparison becomes all the more telling when you wonder whether they once presided over some regimented setting and held sway over unskilled labour.

The Reckoning Ahead

In other words, in my decades-long experience of dealing with management, this one ranks, in every sense of the word, as the least commendable and capable when it comes to managing talent, and would be far better suited to commandeering a chain gang.

Heck, some of us are way past slithering up a greasy pole of obsequiousness for favours; we have had roles of greater responsibility and remuneration, and are here for nothing other than the joy of doing and giving back.

If there is room for improvement, I cannot say, because this appears to be learned behaviour from a former leader who barely earned my respect, their brusqueness unbecoming of anyone cultured. The headiness of office is becoming an aggrandisement of self, not far removed from bullying. Many will tolerate this for just long enough before the blowback makes heads roll.

A Google NotebookLM AI Podcast on this blog

Thought Picnic: The result of excusing bad behaviour

When we excuse the inexcusable

I have sometimes been concerned if not worried about the way we reward bad behaviour by excusing things because of our better nature, accepting things because they are out our control, commending things because another characteristic of the person appeals to us, or through some lack of moral fibre in us, we allow such until that behaviour becomes commonplace.

From the observation of many things as close as within my family or further afield in political leadership in places that would have been bastions of good manners, the vilest of characterisation has emerged that one is both filled with revulsion and disgust as one recoils into some sort of recluse unable to comment about each particular issue.

How broken fences cannot be fixed

That I deployed myself to specifically address one such instance, which was the culmination of a series of mistakes and mishaps we had allowed to fester and had been fostered more by filial relationship than anything else had drawn the most out of our better nature, we had to draw the line somewhere.

It is too easy to be taken advantage of because of the familiarity and the reading that we cannot follow through with the inconceivable. It only takes a little more disrespect and discourtesy to breach that thin curtain that veils what we conceal of the worst of what we can be.

For safety and self-preservation, which might be selfish and sinful, we find that essential resolve against emotional blackmail.

Witchcraft cannot be understood

Rebellion, the good book says, is as wicked as witchcraft, and in witchcraft is an unmistakable recognition of the inexplicable, because nothing reasonable or logical is understood from what you find yourself perceiving.

The thought that people might recognise and seek a space for self-reflection on their own flaws rather than regard themselves under siege is one we rarely find as the appropriate resort.

In certain relationships with friends and even leaders, elements of affection and regard will wane, in family, it creates drift and exacerbates rift. Does one have the energy for making peace?

This only depends on whether things are redeemable from an initial point of people willing to engage and listen. You cannot get far if the default at the mountain is obstinacy, and some mountains are better not climbed or scaled, there are other meadows for appreciation.

Facing down the schoolyard bully

On the leadership front, on which I would rarely want to comment because too many are entrenched or enthralled, my heart goes out to Volodymyr Zelenskyy. He has come from a comedy to exemplify Ukraine's fighting spirit.

To stand up to bullies who have become so powerful because we have always excused bad behaviour and accepted an inexcusable narrative masquerading as truth is the greatest danger we now face, but only a few can face down.

There comes a time when bad behaviour should never be excused again, I know where my red lines are and where they have been crossed, I have done the selfish and sinful, yet within the human sphere of things, it is a needful and rightful thing.

Facing down the schoolyard bully just takes one person, courageous enough to challenge the seeming potentate and call out the abuse of power, to the wherewithal to stand their ground. Of such men, few remain.

Childhood: Standing up to the powerful

The headmistress’ daughter

Certain girls in my childhood experience were big girls, taller and fierce, bullies at times, against whom I could do little if anything. In one case, when I was just 8, and she was probably 10, the daughter of the headmistress would on occasion share the Land Rover school bus with us; my sister and I along with children for 3 other families that met in the front of the ATMN (Amalgamated Tin Mines of Nigeria) offices in Rayfield, Jos.

I presume she would normally travel to school with her mother. However, in the time that we were on the school bus, for whatever reason, rather than be kind and friendly, she would pinch and bruise me whilst I grimaced and winced in pain, just wishing for the journey to school to end and be rid of her menace.

Getting a pinch back

It happened a few more times and I told my dad about it. He simply said, pinch her back. The next time we shared the school bus, she pinched me and quite immediately, I pinched her back. Maybe the shock of retaliation or something hit her, but now she reported me to her mother. I do not think I was called into the headmistress’ office, but the headmistress contacted my father to remonstrate my behaviour.

There was an interesting power dynamic at play that taught me a veritable lesson about not being afraid of people with means and influence, along with power and money. It was in the way my father addressed the issue.

At first, he explained that the girl had been attacking me for days before I reported the issue to him, that she was much bigger than I, that she had been bullying me, and what made the attacks stop was when I retaliated. I think the headmistress understood, and not only did the attacks stop, but the girl also never joined us on the bus again.

Don’t dread the powerful

Another thing, her father was the Managing Director of ATMN whereas my father was the Deputy Chief Accountant, they were all Caucasian, though that is beside the point, I had always been in an international school setting that race or identity in that regard never mattered to me, though I do remember that we as children were quite cruel to those of Asian heritage.

The broader lesson was in the fact that I was exposed to possible repercussions at school just as my father was to such at work, because of who the parents of the girl were. Yet, when he made the case of kindness, fairness, and justice, without fear or favour, for me and for himself, I learnt from that time that if you were in the right and were doing right, you could hold your head high in any place.

Then one thing that has helped me navigate power structures through life has been, to be honest, and true, then, I am only afraid and terrified of people who have two heads. So far, I have met none such and I am glad it is an imponderable of the imagination than a vestige of possibility.

When we stand up, we identify with shared victimhood

Deeper human interest

Much as I am more inclined to what documentary type programmes like railway journeys that serve as excursions to places around the world along with biographies and the histories of people, places, cultures and events, detective drama can be considered an unhealthy diet in understanding the nature and motivations of people.

Last night, I watched an episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit which explores themes of sexual abuse and violation, some involving deaths and how the investigation unravels into some sort of closure. In this case, a teenaged popular social media schoolgirl was drugged, violated, photographed, and humiliated by the publication of her pictures.

Exhuming the truth

The process of getting to the truth of what happened went through closing ranks, accusations, bullying, threats and almost irreconcilable breakdown of relationships and friendships. That the boys involved were presumably friends of the girl was unfortunate, but the issues of teenage angst were quite adequately covered.

In the end, the truth of what happened was discovered without the need for the victim to relive the whole ordeal in court. The culmination was in the lead female police officer, Olivia Benson, visiting the school to discuss the issues around abuse, cyberbullying, and consent. The victim took the stage with the police office relaying what she went through, being the stronger through the experience.

Standing up to identify

Olivia Benson after giving a short talk persuaded everyone to participate in an experiment, instructing them all to close their eyes before asking the pupils affected by scenarios she painted to stand up. Those who had bad things said about them, those who had been humiliated, those who had lost friends due to some adverse situation, those who had been shamed or ridiculed, those who had been bullied, those who had been physically abused, those who had been sexually violated, and so on.

In turn, they stood up with more than half the audience standing, they were asked to open their eyes and which point Olivia Benson said, we are not alone, everyone is affected by these things and fear keeps people from talking of how they are have been victimised. Some then took the opportunity to talk of their own experiences, victims, bullies, or the silenced.

Talking helps people deal with the issues and knowing that the other people might just be as affected means we can help each other.

We share experiences

I already had tears in my eyes, I could be quite a softie when it comes to deeply emotional issues as this, much as I could relate to it all. I could have stood up for each scenario, the story of ostracism, victimisation, abuse, ridicule and damaged relationships could make books but for the saving grace of those things not ruling one’s life or defining the person one is.

We find that we need to stand up and be counted, not so much as victims or survivors, but as those who have experienced things to share amongst others to give each other support and succour drawing sympathy and empathy out of our involved humanity. I find it strange that a blog I wrote over 13 years ago when I first shared my story of child sexual abuse is being read a lot recently.

Blog - My Sex Post (January 2007)

Then, the blog was hosted elsewhere, and I was amazed by the number of comments that came in from others who had been abused and violated by paedophiles and hebephiles. The blog was like standing up to the prompting of what you might have experienced in life. That is why I write about these things, the taboo subjects that we have kept silent about with the hope they would sink away into the depths of passing and forgetful time, even if the scars take much longer to heal, if ever.

If we can, we need to stand up and be counted, so others might feel counted and not alone isolated in the thought that they are to blame for the harm inflicted on their bodily, mental, and sexual wellbeing.

The managers that damage your health

Bosses stamping on hearts

When I read the news story on the BBC that Bad bosses damage your heart [1], I thought, finally, someone has invested in some serious research to confirm what many already know but could not find an acceptable term for.

In fact, terms would probably be high blood pressure, stress or heart problems, but the causative issues which are work-related emanating from the bad managers at work never really factors into the ameliorating remedy.

Working for a sociopath

I had a nasty experience with that kind of manager just over 4 years ago when the sociopath who presented a most advanced multiple personality façade as he was able to convince his bosses that he was the best thing since sliced-bread whilst he treated his staff to being sliced like bread; he was a big fat bully.

In general, I am able to control my circumstances at work such that I refuse to allow the machinations of rotten managers to affect me beyond what I am able to endure as simply uncivilized behaviour.

In this case, I was hamstrung, my expert opinions were challenged without better views than the ability to bark out expletives; anytime he wanted to get anything done, he briefed the project managers against me; and when I asked for a reference to further my studies, he first suggested I did not have the aptitude for study and then specifically stated in the reference that no help financially or through giving time off would be offered by the company with regards to my study.

After the meeting where expletives were rained upon me, I decided I had had enough, obviously, my manager thought because I had a mortgage and some other responsibilities including with his being privy to certain sensitive aspects of my health I would be unable to make the bold move and leave the company.

Leaving and stressed

Sometimes, I fail to realise how fortunate, blessed and resourceful I have been, I fail to give myself enough credit for the things I have done – recently, I noticed that I have really been self-employed as an IT Consultant for 11 of the last 13 years, I suspect I might have been doing something right.

Well, I found a job and when I submitted my resignation, I was told anyone else could do my job and suffered even more horrible treatment that I took a whole week off before I lost my sanity. I could not understand how if I was leaving a job in weeks I could be under so much stress.

In fact, I had to complain to the CIO, the HR director and copy in the CEO to get some sort of behavioural adjustment from my manager.

These are managers of human beings

The core of the matter is that the culture of management is geared towards visions and missions, products and productivity gains without necessarily considering the humanity that brings about the success to the company.

The people are pushed, laboured and under extreme duress and in fear of their livelihoods that they yield to every direction bordering on slavery whilst allowing the atmosphere to affect them beyond the job into their lives and health.

These are supposed to be managers of human-beings first who happen to have goals to reach for the organisation which hopefully knows that it employs human-beings – flesh and blood who have feelings, goals, ideas, ambitions, loyalties and concerns.

A companionless manager

During that year, five of my colleagues in long term relationships broke up with their partners; my manager thought they were coping well because they buried themselves in their jobs. My view was that if things were so bad at home they would bring those problems to work and could mess things up further, especially in the completely de-motivating atmosphere they were working in.

However, for a manager who might only have been able to have a relationship if the partner wanted someone powerful rather than someone beautiful on the inside and outside, he probably was full of glee that many were becoming single.

Assess managers better

Managers have their purposes in organisations but I fear that there are not enough success assessment methodologies that review the manager beyond the ability to deliver regardless of how his underlings have been abused.

In the months after I left the company, 6 people resigned and even more moved on afterwards, one would have though the HR department would become suspicious as to why there was such attrition in a critical operational department but managers in that company were autonomous, infallible and almost omnipotent – rarely had a manager been sanctioned through internal grievance procedures.

I believe organisations have a duty to their workforce to foster healthy working environments and relationships whilst having a better assessment of their managers beyond their ability to meet some shareholder-dictated goals – if the people are your best asset then they should be managed by people who get the best out of those assets not ones who grind the assets into life-threatening conditions that make then eventually useless to the organisation.

It would appear, the staff have to start to document systematic managerial abuse against how it affects their health and chart how things deteriorate if they cannot walk away from their jobs for all sorts of reasons – eventually, they should be meant to prove or allude certain conditions to work-related stress and possibly particular managers.

No job is worth the stress

In the end, no job is worth the deterioration of my health caused by someone who cares not one iota for my well-being apart from being able to sadistically lord it over me with the feeling that I am trapped and have no other choices than be a slave of my circumstances.

Sources

[1] BBC NEWS | Health | Bad bosses may damage your heart

Other workplace stress related articles

BBC NEWS | Business | Bullying bosses 'rife across UK'

BBC NEWS | Business | Bullied workers suffer 'battle stress'

BBC NEWS | Health | Unfair bosses raise blood pressure

BBC NEWS | Health | 'Stress code' for firms launched

BBC NEWS | Business | Workplaces 'getting more stressful'

BBC NEWS | Business | Blood boils in UK workplaces

The unacceptable cult of death

Celebrating pre-teen death is abominable

I cannot abide it anymore, what were children doing in a church afternoon yesterday when they should have been in school going about building a life on sound education?

It is becoming the norm and I fervently pray it is not; we have begun to celebrate lives of children, children cut down on the crest of puberty by seemingly other children who have moved on from water pistols and video games to real guns.

It is both an anomaly and abomination that we have a society where the killing of children has not created the utmost outrage that every right thinking person should find it untenable that this unspeakable evil finds place amongst us.

I am most affected by this in that if I did follow the parallel universe of parenthood, many of these kids would have my kids as older siblings; you do not have to be a parent to empathise because the death of those younger than ourselves exposes a vulnerability that we all possess, the possibility of death by unintended means.

A developing cult of death

It is a further damnation of our society that such crimes take place and no one can come forward with information to rid our societies of the cancer that is becoming violently malignant.

Instead, we find succour in tributes paid to the dead, the celebration of lives cut short unnaturally, flowers laid at pathways, fields, doors and gateways, candles lit to burn up in hours and soppy lullabies that give us the pretence and ill-comfort that all would be well.

It is becoming an accepted rite of demise, the cult of death awash with emotions difficult to articulate, we now spontaneously clap for the dead as we desperately try to eke out minuscule joy from such palpable sadness.

Is there value in life?

I cannot find stronger words to castigate the societal comfort that allows parents to bury their children who have come upon death by what is essentially a social malaise that politicians are completely hapless in addressing, the police are lacking intuition in getting a resolution and the streets are paralysed with irrational fear when they should be performing their honourable and civic duties of reporting what they have witnessed.

How is it that the value of life is so deprecated to that of shoot-em-up games only that this time the person shot does not get up and walk away?

How is it that the murder of a fellow human-being does not excite the most self-hating revulsion and guilt in the perpetrators?

Speak up or be damned

In the end, I have a word for those who having witnessed these heinous allow the perpetrators to walk free to commit even more heinous crimes.

The likelihood is these perpetrators were bullies in school halls and playgrounds, but no one told on them because they did not want to “snitch” and become outcasts amongst their peers. There is no honour amongst thieves, there is no dignity in condoning injustices, there is no pride in the silence that allows impunity to thrive and there is no respect for life if unwarranted cruelty is unreported.

These selfsame perpetrators continually get away with bullying, first with their brutishness and as they mature they take on other tools to menace others, baseball bats, knives and contemporaneously guns, they have probably put others in hospital and boasted about their menace to other despicable low-lives.

Whilst the law may not be able to prove the culpability or the reluctant conspiracy of the witnesses who have willingly given their tongues to the gross evil of silence, there must be a conscience in all of us at work that should and must link us with further crimes committed by these evil people – children they might be – because when the seedlings of malevolence were budding as bullying and menace we did not do our parts by intimating the authorities then.

Speak NOW!

Even now, all is not lost in getting information out to a counsellor, the police, a community leader, your parents, trusted friends or even the police, no matter how long ago, it is our duty to speak up and rid our streets of villains that blacken our paths with the blood of the innocent, most especially, if you have been a victim of bodily harm from any of these rotten people.

I think we should have enough of flowers being placed at memorials when they should be presented as bouquets of affection to loved ones, I do not want to switch my television on to witness another group of pre-teens burying their friend who was gunned down on the street and yet, the killer is still at large. It beggars belief that what is becoming of our society.

Speaking as the Book

One final supplication would be that the killers of Rhys Jones would not find peace, succour or refuge, but like Cain, the first recorded murderer, they shall be fugitives in life and vagabonds all their days; their lives would be marked with sadness deeper than that which they have caused till the blood of the innocent child is fully avenged.

Believe it or not, the blood of the innocent still cries out from the ground against those who have unjustly shed blood and those who have allowed this to happen also have blood on their hands.