y’all know that i’ve been doing freelance work for my former employer while i continue my search for a full-time gig. my current project is entertaining b/c the organization’s never done anything like this before and everyone involved in this is making it up as they go along.
today, i had to make an appearance for a meeting with a supporter of the organization. the supporting organization has a program in place that has a few similarities with the project i’m currently working on. my former employer wants to stay on the supporting organization’s good side, so this meeting was of the “o hai we haz a project sorta kinda like yours but not really so could you tell us what works for you so we can maybe use that? kthxbai!” variety.
as much as i dislike these kinds of things, i was willing to suck it up for this meeting. ok, i really had no choice but to suck it up for this meeting. besides, it’s not like i had to give a presentation or anything, so i was going to be content with smiling and nodding and providing a comment here and there.
and so the meeting went. lots of us asking variations of “so what works for your project? how can we adapt that?” and note-taking and the aforementioned smiling, nodding, and commentation.
until…the representative of the supporting organization started discussing how they handle placing applicants in their program. their process involves phone interviews with applicants and the organization making placements as they see fit, based on what the applicants are interested in and what’s available, etc.
the representative went on to mention that there are certain instances where they have to be a bit creative in how they handle a placement. now, knowing that some of their applicants are from outside the u.s., i was prepared for a comment about language barriers. but not this:
“well, we’ve had a couple of african-americans who speak street english…”
i know the representative said something after that, but i’m hard-pressed to remember what. on the outside, i maintained my blank but interested look. on the inside, though…
“wtf? did you really say that out loud? really? granted, i’ve been a bit quiet in this meeting, but I’M SITTING DIRECTLY ACROSS FROM YOU! wtf?”
etc., etc.
and before you ask, no, i didn’t say anything in the meeting. and no, i haven’t talked to the person i’m reporting to on this project about it. i probably won’t, unless they bring it up. i am willing to chalk this up to, as someone else at my former employer put it once i told them about it, “smart people saying stupid things.”
the thing of it is, i feel like my immunity to these kinds of situations has worn off, since i’m no longer working full-time. and you know what really sucks? 1) the fact that i had to build up immunity to these things; and 2) the fact that i recognize that some of that immunity has disappeared. that’s a discussion for another time, though. instead, i’ll leave you with the poem that inspired the title of this post.
