On
the day itself deep inside the Center several silent Security Guards bring me
through a small guarded door into a large room and silently direct me to a stiff
straight-back chair in the middle of the room. I face a long table with five
larger padded chairs on the other side. I must be about ten yards from the
table where I sit. (Maybe they know about the interview I had at the Corrections
Campus.) There are a number of small plain chairs lined along the far wall
behind. There is a large double door on the wall to my right with a Security
Guard on each side. After some long minutes the Guards open the doors and a line
of five interviewers walk quietly in and without looking over at me or saying
anything take their seats behind the long table as the Guards exit right through
the doors. The large man in the middle is wearing a dark suit and has a name
plate in front of him that says Moderator. His face flares up red and returns
to normal several times. Next to him on my left is a small round woman who
seems to be giggling to herself. Next to her at that end of the table a man who
seems to be bored and is yawning, shaking his head like he is trying to stay
awake, and smacking his lips up and down. On the other side of the moderator is
the ‘pity’ woman from the initial screening with the same look of pity and the
same small notebook. And at the right end is a hunched-down sickly man looking
at me with a very worried almost scared look.
Still
no one says anything to me. In turn they each glance towards the large double doors.
They seem nervous. Suddenly the doors open again and bang the wall on either
side. Security Guards come back in carrying large chairs. They place the first chair at the right end
of the table, a large but plain chair with no padding. The second chair is
ornate and well-padded and after placing it at the left end of the table the
Guards take their places on either side of the double doors. The panel continues
silence and nervous glances towards the doors. After more long minutes the
Guards open the doors and a sixth person silently arrives. A woman who seems to
be floating slightly above the floor. I see she takes very small steps. She has
perfectly still hair that looks lacquered and is wearing a full length full
skirt and a dark colored velvet top. She has a shawl around her neck that she
holds on to the ends of. She is followed by two assistants, a woman and then a man.
They both take the same small steps as they come in. The woman is dressed
similarly, but less expensively, with a shawl around her neck she holds on to
the ends of. The man is in a tattered business suit and is wearing a scarf around
his neck he holds on to the ends of. The lacquered woman glides onto the large
plain chair on the right. Her assistants take two of the small chairs along the
wall. I look past to them and see that the woman is glaring at me with a look
of pure hatred. The man tries to glare at me also but can’t quite do it. Still
silence.
There
is the chair on my left empty, the more ornate chair. I am feeling a little
sick and get ready to run but the doors are guarded. Suddenly everybody except
the lacquered woman stands at the booming voice that enters through the door I
came in behind me. “Sorry I’m late. Sorry I’m late. Who we got here today?” I
feel big hands slapping me on my shoulders. “Heard a lot good about you young
man. A lot good. Going to find out what you got, what you got.” The large man
dressed in the traditional fashion of a clergy man then seats himself noisily
in the ornate chair on the left. He looks at me with the kindest smile I have
ever seen.
The
moderator then breaks his silence and introduces himself as a Manager in the People
Resource Department and that the others are members of his Team. His face still
gets red off and on. He explains that the lacquered woman is the Manager of
Assessment and Auditing and will observe the interview process. I still cannot
see any expression in her face at all. He then says before we start the
Department Chaplain will offer a prayer. As the panel lower their heads the
Chaplain stands “Big guy in the Sky. Help us have a Strong Game today! Strong
Game!” The panel exchange looks from their bowed heads and the Chaplain sits
again. He is still smiling kindly at me; the others keep the same looks they
have had.
And
then their questions; and I have to tell you that no matter how long I think
about these questions afterwards I still have no idea how best to answer most
of them: ‘tell us about yourself.’ (Get someone to read to you from the papers
I filled out!) So I tell them about my being a kid out in the desert (pity look
from pity woman), Military Obligation (scary look and flinching from small man
at right end), school at small Technical College out at eastern edge of Greater
(look of contempt and rolling of eyes, snorting, and hand slapping table from
man at left end of table), and so on. All the while Moderator’s face blinks red
on and off, round woman giggles, Chaplain looks kindly, and Lacquered woman shows
no life at all. ‘What is your greatest weakness?’ (How would I know; that’s why
it is a weakness.) I am too careful about my work, trying too often to be
optimal when the problem more requires me to be heuristic. Blank looks and
confusion except for timid man at right end where there a slight smile. On then
to ‘what is your greatest strength?’ I work to better know when a problem requires
a heuristic instead an optimal solution. Same blank looks and confusion except
for another slight smile. ‘Tell us why we should choose you over other
candidates?’ (Because I am me and they are not!) I am humbled to be considered here
and know you have strong candidates from quality schools around the country and
so would feel all the more privileged if you were to select me. Cynical smirk
and shaking of head from man on left. ‘How did you turn a work problem or a
defeat into a work success?’ I had to translate instruction in mathematics
texts into language I could understand and that led me to publish my math
booklet. Man on left even more rolling eyes, snorting, and shaking of head,
more giggling from round woman, Moderators face stays red a little longer, pity
woman’s face turns pale with red spots that appear here and
there on and off. Timid man slightly nods his head I think.
‘Where do you want to be on five years?’ (I would like this all to be over!) I
don’t think of the past or the future, but concentrate on what I am doing now.
‘How much money do you want to make?’ (Lots you half-wits, as long as I don’t
have to put up with people like you!) I would like to make an honest living,
but my work is more important to me than money. Man at left stand up, slaps the
table, gives me a look like that is the most stupid thing he has ever hear, and
sits down. Somewhere along here Lacquered Woman and her assistants noiselessly
get up and float out the side doors. ‘What do you wish we would ask you that we
didn’t?’ (I wish you did not ask me anything!) I tell them how well they
covered all possible subjects. Cynical smirks from most. What would you like to
ask us? (You do not want to know!) I tell them again how well they covered all
possible subjects. More cynical smirks from most. Then timid man asks an unscripted
question, flinching, “Do you really know how to make things?” I see the others
exchange looks.
Before
I could think on how to answer that the panel gets up as one, turns towards the
double doors and quickly walk out. The Chaplain remains seated still smiling at
me. I was surprised to realize how that last question made me feel better. I start
to feel all the bad about this experience lift away from me. With no real
reason I knew then I had a job. Finally as I think enough to stand up, I start
to go over to thank the Chaplain. A Security Guard is already there gently
shaking the Chaplain’s shoulder and he jars awake. He has been sleeping through
all this! Another Guard taps me on the shoulder from behind and motions me to
follow. I turn and he takes me out and down several long halls and into a small
but neat and pleasant office, one that looks like it has all it needs but
nothing extra. Just then then the small sickly man from the right end of the
table energetically walks in. He offers me a firm friendly handshake and in a
strong voice says “Good work!” He stands straighter and looks healthy now. He
closes the door and opens a cabinet door behind his desk and takes out a bottle
of Acanadian spirits and two not so small glasses. He pours them half full and
pushes one over to me. He raises his glass and I follow. “To a good and long
career for you here Willson!” and we drink. And then that is the best I have
ever felt in my life! “Now let’s go get something to eat before you leave for
today.” He quickly replaces the bottle and glasses back out of sight into the
cabinet.
Out
in the hall there is a Security Guard in a small motorized cart. We get in and
soon are at a small well-decorated restaurant. As we walk in the workers in the
restaurant look with respect at the man I am with. Who is he? We sit and he
says “I am Jaemes and Head of Manufacturing. We make the things that get made
here.” I am unable to talk so far. “It is most important for the Center to make
things. So we are most important. However, we have to be careful. I will
explain that later on.” I notice some of the other diners seemed embarrassed at
our presence, exchange looks, and quickly leave. Others who stay smile and wave
over to our table. “What did you think of the Interview? I bet I know and you don’t
have to answer that.” The waiter comes and I still stammer as I follow Jaemes
and order. “After you start here I won’t see you for a while. You will be in
Orientation for some weeks.” I finally get my wits enough to ask what will
happen there. “A lot of it will be in meetings, called ‘sessions’, where people
who don’t much know how to do things will describe problems and hope you can help
them solve them.” I must seem surprised at what he just said. “Don’t quote me
on that. And not about anything else we say this afternoon.”
He
trusts me. Already. And as I eat something I get a little calmer. I will trust
him “about the interview. I am sorry I was loud at times. I did not mean to
scare anyone.” “You were not frightening
anyone Willson. I know you mean me.” I look down at my plate. “We have some
time so I will explain what I mean about ‘we being careful’.” He lowers his
voice, “most people do not know how to produce anything you can see, like we
can. And some do not mind because they are essential in making systems work.
That is equally important. But some do, some resent us. And those you have to
give something back to. For me it is being very timid. So these people can
think I am a good engineer, but lack the necessary sense of self to function
well with people. You find that a lot. A person with skills is considered not good
with people. That is what we give back to them.” “I had no idea about that” I
answer. “You have known professors in school who were brilliant in philosophy
but it was widely said that they could not talk to regular people. That is same
strategy; and not talking to regular people can have its benefits.” I laugh and
reply “or the brilliant scientist who revealed the secrets of the universe but
needed help tying his shoes.” “Yes, that is an excellent example; that is what
he gave back.” “I will have to think about all this some.” “You will find what
you need to do Willson. Some engineers use the time-tested favorite of dressing
in awkward color and pattern combinations. When you are laughed at you, you
have done it well. And I especially like the old saying from my hometown of
Cottonbaugh ‘never miss an opportunity to say nothing’.” I laugh again. I would really have to work on
that one.
“Willson I‘ll get you back to your Security Escort to take you home.” We leave the restaurant and get in another cart that finds its way through the long halls and out past the Security Stations and on to the near edge of the large parking lot. At the Escort car I have to ask Jaemes a final question “people who make things get to see them; people who make processes work get to see the results; what do the people you mean want to get?” “Prestige Willson.”
[‘Prestige’ is our word
but the original is more a combination of ‘prestige’ and ‘deference.’ A literal
translation would be something like ‘step back and away from’ or ‘receive all
the talk of’ or ‘pick up clean up after.’ Editors.]
***
We
shook hands again and Jaemes reminded me of our conversation that did not
happen, and not to come back until I am contacted officially by Center offices.
That is not going to be today. So I still can take a short hike. Writing all
that down took longer than I planned. As I rush out of the Library main
entrance a happy Willson, I almost hit a man with an expensive haircut dressed
in a fine tailored suit.
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(To be
Continued)
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