Marshmallow Strategies

I don't usually write in the evenings, but it's the end of an intense week, and the end of the month, so, it's time for a little reflection this Sunday evening...

I. All the Problems
 
My boss (the one I like) came back to work on Friday after attending a mid-week retreat for executive directors of thrift stores--(he has newly been made the assistant exec.). He told me it had been good to hear the problems the others had with their stores. 

"Were they the same as ours?" I asked.

"We have all their problems," he said. 

"You mean, they would talk about one or two problems each, and we had all of all of them?"

"Yeah!" he said. "I just kept quiet..."

We laughed, but I was surprised how relieved I felt--relieved to be externally validated after our current exec., Tom, the week before had dismissed my concerns––in front of my boss––when I had suggested that we have certain problems that need addressing. 

❧

That Friday evening, I watched a snippet of the Kavanaugh hearings and felt enraged, quivery and sick, at the reminder that the dismissive way Tom had treated me is NORMAL for the way some men of power treat women and other people they do not esteem.

Of course I knew that, but the conjunction of events made me see so clearly that my current nervousness about speaking up at my workplace is not a problem of my own making, is not my personal neurosis--it is simply a sane reaction based on my experience that men in power DON'T LISTEN and DON'T BELIEVE me.

And sure enough, Tom didn't.
He's a good guy, insofar as he does real, good work getting food to food shelves. But when I watched Kavanaugh (he's so repulsive, I could only watch briefly), I flashed on Tom––Tom getting so defensive when I said it would be nice to have new plumbing because this is the SECOND time in three months that I've waded through toilet overflow, to plunge a plugged up toilet--him getting so upset that he stood up and started pacing as he went on the offensive, EXPLAINING in an exasperated tone to me the history of the building's plumbing problems. 

Like that means we don't need to address the problem NOW?
Or grant me some intelligence?

. . . Or buy me some new shoes???
❧
Well, surprise, surprise, right? Who doesn't know that men in power act that way.

I DO know. But these hearings... they hit home surprisingly hard.
Specifically watching how CAREFUL Christine Blasey Ford was to present a clear and reasonable case... I was reminded of myself, as I expect quite a lot of women were. 
Maybe if we are just nice, and reasonable, and draw a frikkin picture ("across from the bedroom is a small bathroom..."), they won't "accidentally" smother us to death.

Talking to Tom, I was careful to explain why it's a PROBLEM to have the toilet overflow every six weeks, ("not good for business"), in the hopes that this man who could do something about it might just consider taking that under advisement.

He never even got back to me about it and my offer to do some online research into solutions.
I really wondered if my boss wouldn't follow Tom's lead, since the two men are close colleagues of many years (my boss is the junior partner), and I am just some dame who has showed up with the temerity to complain about things nobody ever had a problem with before.

(They did. It has become clear to me, my coworkers just don't tell the management squat. "Nothing to be done," as one of them said. And they're sort of right, in a general way.)

II. The Culture of Patience

So, yeah, I'm resentful. And rightly so!
As ever, I don't want to cultivate that resentment in a Petri dish. 
No.
But while most of my life I've flown under the radar, solo, as much as possible, at this advanced age (almost sixty! in two and a half years), I wonder if I could find a way to be effective at this workplace and not go down in flames. 

I'm trying to come up with a strategy.
My first point of strategy is to stay away from Tom. I wouldn't even bother trying with him, and I don't want to negotiate with him.

And I don't have to. My boss wants things to work better, and he seems to respect my opinion. I'm surprised. Without thinking about it, I expected him to align himself with Tom, especially after Tom treated me dismissively.
Can I trust my boss?
I don't know, but I think I can afford to risk trusting him.

My second point of strategy is to cultivate patience, not expect everything to happen quickly, and not take set backs as major losses. 
And--related--remember it is far from just me who wants change--many other people want and work to make the store keep going, and have for 25 years before I showed up. 
So... take the long view.

I have not really thought of patience as a virtue until fairly recently. I was the kid who would eat one marshmallow now rather than wait 15 minutes to get two.

I wouldn't regret it either: 
the pleasure of the one marshmallow outweighs the discomfort of the 15 minutes.
I don't know why they don't credit that in those tests, as if the children who choose the one marshmallow are just stupid---not everyone weighs costs and outcomes the same.

And honestly, given the law of diminishing returns, is two marshmallows all that much better than one?
Eat the marshmallow and leave! 
Go do your own thing! 
That's worked beautifully for me, much of the time.

Well, but at this juncture of life, in this job, it's a different set up. 
If I can cultivate patience, everybody could get more marshmallows.
That's a very different goal.

You know? I'm not exactly doing this for myself. I mean, it would benefit me if even a few of our All The Problems were ameliorated––certainly I would like it if I never have to plunge the toilets again.

But that's not what motivates me. What motivates me is that this store does REAL good things, and we could do them a lot better if we'd ask for help with our problems.

The other day, a day it was only in the 50ºs, a guy from the park next door wandered in the donations bay (where customers aren't supposed to be), found a coat that fit him in a bin, and came and found someone to ask if it was free. 

This guy SMELLED. And he was very, very drunk. 
Another coworker said, "No, it's not free," but I said,
"That's OK, you can have it," and patted the guy on the shoulder and kind of pushed him out the door.

Then I regretted not telling him I would help him find some clean pants too. But I didn't have it in me to go find him...
I know there will be another chance, and I'll be a little more prepared. There are so many people in need like that...

My boss told me he wishes we had showers for the folks who live in the park to use. "And washing machines," I said.

Anyway. I am no Mother Teresa! I am not on a crusade. But if I could wrap myself in the marshmallows of patience, I might be able to repulse the insults of egotistical executives and (with others) help the store run a little better, and keep running.

______________________________

P.S. Bubble soccer. I want to.