Those folks are serious about get out of the way or get run over...really.
I tread into dark waters when I write things like this. I see a lot of very mean behavior at work, many times I am the referee when it happens. I am not supposed to blog about work but if I stay away from specifics I think I will be safely paddling the boat through the dark waters. Just a short disclaimer moment.
For some reason, some of us just cannot mind our own business. Nor can we accept the fact that it is OK to be different. To be black, gay, overly passionate (according to some my current shortcoming), fat, skinny, smart, ditzy, slow or any other odd trait is OK. It is the urge to comment, make fun of or judge that is not.
Others think it is a God given right to run herd over all the rest of us. They beat us about the head with the very book that tells them not to. That God is the first one I want to question when I get the chance.
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Of course, now that I am older, I see that those who unmercifully teased me as a youngster were probably suffering internally. My mother always would know why they were unhappy and decided to take it out on me. She would always say to be patient, try to understand and they would go away. Hard advice to follow
when everything about me seemed to give them something to comment on.
I also understand that without the bastards I probably wouldn't have the skill set I have today. I am pretty good at standing alone. I can also keep rooted in gale force winds. My skin is very thick and I can level most folks with just a stare. I say what I mean, mean what I say but try not to be mean when I say it. Going quiet is my very best trick learned young, it is hard to keep picking on someone who doesn't react. In a work setting it has a real lethal quality.
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So in the end and when I smack up against those who criticize me today, I say thank you to the bastards past and present. You made me who I am today...the boss. In my daily dealings with folks who exhibit these vile behaviors I stop and ask myself, "What happened to make you this way?" They evidently didn't have a maid (or a mom) to tell them they were worth enough to not indulge in meanness.
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Of course, I really just want to slap them. In deference to my mom, who taught her children well, I do not.
But I want to.
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