2002-10-17 - 11:35 p.m.
Because the legions of middle-managment at the university are "encouraged to take advantage of staff development opportunities", I spent my afternoon in the Alcohol and Drugs in the Workplace seminar. Never mind that if someone were using alcohol or drugs in the workplace, I would be the last person to know, much less actually try to perform an intervention. But it was a way to get out of the office for a few hours, which is always a plus. They used to always serve good refreshments at those things, but since the budget cuts, they just have a pitcher of water and a pot of coffee with styrofoam cups, wooden sticks and various powders.
It was actually pretty informative, though, and the female psychologist presenter wasn't too self righteous. But I have to just make this comment: one of the things I hate about these occasions is that we always have to go around the room and introduce ourselves and tell "what you expect to get out of the seminar." I don't mind introducing myself, but what does it matter what people "expect" from something they have yet to learn about? And how many different responses can there be? The first two people gave the obvious answers, and then everyone else just mumbled: ...."the same reason." Finally someone made a joke: "I was hoping for some free samples." When it was my turn, I said: "I try not to have preconceived expectations about what an experience should be before it happens." (Which in fact is completely true, but she looked at me as if to say: Ok, smartass.) Moving right along.
We had to look at a little chart that told us, by body weight, how many drinks we could have before the state considered us legally intoxicated. For me, it was two. And we learned that if you get completely smashed the night before, you are still impaired (respective to blood alcohol level) the following morning at 8:00 am. We were asked to guess, of all the different addictive substances, which is the most difficult to withdraw from. The answer: alcohol.
At the end everyone was asking lots of questions, and I kept wondering if they were trying to keep her busy so we wouldn't have to roll play. The one thing everyone dreads to do in a seminar is role play. But no, another presenter showed up with a little scripted scenario about the "disfunctional family" for some unlucky members of the group to act out. One guy who had been a vocal member of the group was called up and handed the script and he said, "If you expect me to read this, you are outta luck." The trainer looked at him dumfounded for a minute, before realizing what he was saying. "You mean.... you can't read?" The guy shook his head.
"Well.... then.... you can choose somebody to take your place." the trainer said. And the guy chose the person he came with, probably his boss, to take the part and he sat down. The guy who couldn't read handled it so casually, just as if he were saying he didn't drive, or didn't eat meat.... but I wonder if it was just an act. How could it feel to be a middle-aged man, working in a responsible position at a university (albeit in facilities management), who could not read? And have to announce it to a whole room full of people? What else could you do but laugh and act like it was no big deal....?
I have always wondered how a person could avoid learning to read. For me it was such an easy and natural part of life that I can barely remember not reading. But I know that lots of people have literacy issues. And I can only admire their courage, because I think it must be incredibly difficult to get by in our world without the help of reading and writing. I can't imagine how many things you would have to remember in order to get by and fake it. I can't even imagine a life not put into words-- described, defined, embellished, preserved.
In celebration of my reading ability (ok, it is kind of a farfetched excuse) I just ordered some new books on the internet. Skootie is making a Best of Suzanne Vega CD for us. The heat is on tonight.... it was a wet and chilly day, and we are cozy here in our little study. Even the dog is sleeping sweetly on his little pillow in front of the heater, instead of running around like a maniac trying to lick us. And it's Friday Eve.
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