“THEY” Cripple Society Volume 1: Who are “THEY” and how do they do it? An Expose in True to Life Narrative Exploring Stories of Discrimination. Cleon E. Spencer
supervisor, who in turn would take them to the supervisor for his consideration. He always approved them. Only very occasionally, however, did he come by to speak of the implications of these changes to me personally. The assistant supervisor was nearly always his liaison. This I simply took for granted at the time, as I figured he had many other matters to think of.
“It was shortly past the beginning of the new financial year when I had taken on this job. As its end approached things were running very smoothly in my section. Many innovations had been made to enable the work to be done more efficiently. This required changes not only to the immediate system, but also in its interaction with the other departments from whom I received my work and to whom I sent the end results. The assistant supervisor was showing a great deal of satisfaction in having this corner of his work operating so smoothly, and consequently, much more speedily. Now, even as the year end approached making it so much more expedient to have all accounts up to date, there was no need to bring in extra help. I too was pleased with the accomplishment. It gave me a sense of satisfaction. I felt it on the inside, but I dared not show it.”
Dr. Eldren broke into the narration of the story, “there is nothing wrong with showing your feelings, Donna. Why hide them?”
Donna paused. She was stuck for words for a moment. Then she responded, with a pronounced emphasis on being courteous, to Dr. Eldren. “Maybe we can discuss that further after I’ve finished my story, Dr. Eldren?”
Collin, sensing her embarrassment of the moment, came to the rescue again. “You’ve told us the rosy side Donna. The other side is yet to come, is it not?”
“Yes Collin, that is right,” Donna replied.
“Experienced again, eh, Collin!” quipped Leo.
There was a chuckle throughout the group that put everyone at ease once more.
Collin would now alleviate Donna’s embarrassment by purposely steering the conversation into focus on year two of Donna’s industrial life, and thereby away from an analysis of Donna’s hiding of her feelings. “Year one was a success, Donna. I’m awfully anxious to hear more about the end results of year two,” he remarked.
“Yea,” quipped Leo. “It’s like watching a mystery unfold. I can hardly wait for the next episode.”
Donna was relieved, and pleased to continue with her story. “First, let me say again that during this year two I accomplished a great deal in streamlining the processes of my section. In doing this I worked very, very hard, with my ‘nose to the grind-stone’, as the saying goes, almost continually. But as the year drew near to an end, the system was running so smoothly that I could take things a little easier -that is reduce my effort to what I would consider to be a normal and reasonable pace.
“It was a great relief to be able to do this, as I had worn myself down quite a bit during the year with the continual concentration, changing this, eliminating that, and adding something else. It had been heavy going. There was much relief and joy for me at the end of the financial year when the annual department audits proved my renovated system to be quite efficient. Now, I thought, I wouldn’t have to work any harder than those around me.
“To add to my relief and joy, one day the general manager stopped by my desk and congratulated me on my work. He had heard from other departments, he said. Payments and transfers were able to be credited punctually, adding immensely to the efficiency of these departments. He encouraged me to keep up the good work.
“He left my desk and went to the supervisor’s office. As he stood there besides the supervisor’s desk talking, they both looked out at me periodically. I could tell they were talking about me. I could also tell that pleasant things were being said, at least on the general manager’s part, since he was smiling and looked pleased.
“My relief and joy were short-lived. One day, before I was very long into year three, the assistant supervisor came by and informed me that since I had had plenty of time to learn and become familiar with my job, the supervisor would now expect me to also do some work in the next section to mine. This entailed helping to collect overdue accounts. The collections section was, in a vague manner, connected to mine in that once the accounts were collected, they were handed over to me for recording and relevant distribution to proper departments. But it was a different type of work altogether than that of my section. It looked as though I was to become a ‘jack-of-all-trades. I was deeply let down by the request, but in time became reconciled to it and thought, well maybe this is another stepping stone - maybe, but I had misgivings about the matter.
“Nevertheless, I went into the work in this new section as energetically as I had during the past year in what I will call my own section. In this collections section there were four other people working. Collecting overdue accounts was part of the work and obviously a time consuming task. However, I soon formed a favorable opinion of the system used there. The work was usually running a little behind, but occasionally the employees would work overtime in keeping the related paperwork up to date. This would leave them free during regular hours to do work that could be done only during business hours, such as contacting other business establishments.
“There were two girls of average efficiency in the new section. Then there were two who usually dragged behind, often coming in late, taking time for gossip and for personal telephone calls, and extra time for coffee breaks. But the two efficient ones kept the system rolling along at a satisfactory pace, somehow motivating or prodding the other two along with them, thereby keeping the whole process moving.
“I soon became friends with the two efficient girls, or young women I should say. They were both in their thirties. The other two, approximately the same age resented me. As annoying as that was at times I tried not to let it cause me any great concern. I enjoyed my job, and contrary to their attitudes continued with my usual punctuality, decorum and hard work. The two efficient girls were pleased with this and in some instances endeavored to copy my ways of working, dressing, being punctual and pleasant.
“As was usual by now, and almost expected by the group members, Collin interjected with a question: “were you able to keep up on the work in your own section while working part time in the other section Donna?”
“Well, therein lies the crux of the matter, or at least one of them, Collin. At first I obligingly speeded up the work in my section so that I could spend time in the other section. I was working very hard again now. As weeks went on, eventually things got turned around. On direction from the supervisor through the assistant supervisor to me, I was now to spend time ‘as needed’ in the collections section, doing the work in my own section as time permitted after that. The outcome of this was that I was eliminating the need for overtime in the collections section and practically killing myself to keep up the work in my own section. I did this for a while until I realized what I was doing to myself, and what was being done to me. Then I reduced my effort to a pace which allowed me to survive. The result was, work in my own section went behind, thus requiring overtime on my part to keep it up.”
The group members looked around at one another in silence, then still in silence looked to Donna, astounded, and eager for her to continue.
“If there can be two cruxes to a matter,” continued Donna, “Then the second one happened a few months later. I just told you the first one. I had now been employed there for nearly three years. In all that time I had not been late for work any morning. In fact I was usually the one who arrived early, turned on the lights and got things humming in the department.
“One morning I finally was late. It was a very wet morning. It had rained heavily all night and it was still raining in the morning. As I drove to work in this rain I had not noticed that a section of the street ahead of me was flooded up to sidewalk level. I drove into the flooded section at a good city speed for that kind of weather. Water splashed up over the vital parts of my car engine and it stalled, leaving me sitting there in my car surrounded by water. I tried to restart the engine, but to no avail. Before long another car stopped slowly beside me. The driver asked if he would get help for me from a service station a half a mile or so down the street. I said, ‘yes please.’
“About fifteen minutes later a tow truck arrived. The driver