The company I work for is big on diversity and inclusion, both in theory and in practice. In the past, I have been part of our office's Diversity and Inclusion Committee, responsible for quarterly activities to increase the appreciation and respect we have for one another. These are a couple of the posters sent out from corporate for the past quarter or so. (There are more, but these are the two I like best.)
As one of the brighter crayons in the box, both in terms of brainpower and force of personality, I rather like that poster. (Less so on the days when I feel not-particularly-sharp or downright dull, but that's why I take Lexapro, right?) I have a quibble or two with the next one. They get full points for choosing my favorite shade of yellow. And it's a nice sentiment. However, you'll notice that all of the pencils are yellow. The only difference is that one is doing yoga. If they really wanted to make a point [har, har], each pencil would be a different color and one would be standing on its head. The message I get from this poster is, it's OK to be a little different. Just don't be too different. Because that would be weird. And would make the rest of us uncomfortable. We still want you to be a well-behaved cog in the corporate machine. Squeaky wheels may get the grease, but cogs that don't mesh well with the other cogs might just be replaced.
Which is not to say that I don't feel appreciated and accepted at work, because I do. You just won't see me being fully myself between the hours of 8:30 and 5:00. Because I am one of the brighter crayons in the box, and I have short-term and long-term goals which require a dependable flow of income until I am safely dead, or retired.
In other news, the Eternal Pink Baby Sock is finished, even to the weaving-in of ends. And I have made it this far into the work week with the new timekeeping system without making fiscally fatal errors or throwing my monitor out SemperFi's window.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!