The Rescuers

Just to disparage any preconceptions now; this is not about lovable, fashion-wise mice.

This is about the truly worst aspect of any public sector job. People.

There are some people who seem to be unfamiliar with the psychological stages of development, (If I’ve already lost you, please see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erikson%27s_stages_of_psychosocial_development – you are in need of help) appearing instead to wallow in a state of, not regression, but non-progression, allowing themselves to blossom stagnantly into a full-sized horrific dinosaur of a petulant toddler. Perhaps obviously, this might not get them far within civilised society, being against the grain of natural flow and ebb, and so one might presume that these are the people we put in boxes labelled ‘mental illness’ or ‘learning disability’ – whatever’s closest to the just-outside-the-acceptable level of antisocialism they are eminating. They are not ill, or stunted. They are bullies. The difference is simply this: They get away with it. Translation: You let them.

Everyone knows the term. Everyone recognises the behaviour. So why can we not, as a whole, uphold EVEN as solid a front as teachers in school (one of the most hostile, victim-ready environments you will ever encounter in life, if not THE most) and say the magic word, ‘No’.

No you can’t have whatever you want, when you want it, where you want it. No I will not carry it to you in my mouth while you sneer at me.

Yet, apparently, I will.

These people are having their way. I am not out to teach people a lesson. I am just doing a job. Between certain hours in the day. For a certain amount of money. I have no outside concerns for the issues being contended, the tasks being carried out. But the mud you kicked onto my skirt is still there, and I have to pay for that to be cleaned in my own time, with my own money.

In short, non-cryptic terms, I am being walked on. And I am fed up, and humiliated. I cannot see how anyone can be expected to do what I do in the long term. I am part of an unashamedly fallible, lazy, selfish body that is shying away from problems that occur EVERY DAY in its proximity.

I will not wait to be apologised to, because this isn’t enough. Nothing is enough to repair the futile damage you are doing with your neglect.

To bring it back: There are another type of people – The Rescuers. These people join the fight late, (perhaps they were having breakfast with America – see Eddie Izzard about this one) do a half-arsed job of upholding the same principles you were signed up to defend, and then scrap it all when they realise greater glory lies with a poorly-disguised defeat. These people seem to think it looks to all parties like the hand of God has just intervened and said “Hey… It’s ok… You all win. You can all go home now.” But it hasn’t. They have made a quick, easy decision to back down because they think it looks good on them personally, (“Yellow is definitely your colour, Sir”) forgetting that in doing so they bring the name of their own side down. The Rescuers must think that they are moving on to better things; that, naturally, their innate talent will get noticed one day, and the hand of a bigger God will tap on their shoulder and say “Hey… Nice one. Are you busy?” At which point they will flit off and leave you in the mud they kicked up.

Maybe I’m just being dramatic. But I think I can still maintain my point. Bullies are rife, and so are Rescuers. If you’re not standing up for yourself and your side, you are all playing along one way or another. And you’re making the rest of us look good enough to eat.

 

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