I remember working with a home school network in Thailand. I was in charge of the high-school programs and was often frustrated at what appeared to me as the lack of foresight of my overseers, of those in charge of organizing the whole school. I had many things that I wanted to implement in my department, things that I felt were urgent and needed immediate attention. Somehow, I just couldn’t understand why everybody didn’t understand, why no-one cared to adapt to what was happening in my world, in my department, in my sphere of action, in my life etc … Was there, after all anything else that was more important? I finally decided that time had come for me to to tell all. I cornered one of the women in charge of the department and expressed my feelings. I didn’t scream, yell , or shout, but in no uncertain terms I definitely expressed my disappointment. To my surprise, the woman gently addressed the issues I was concerned about then suddenly burst out in tears. It is then that I realised my own insensitivity. I hadn’t realized the weight of her own responsibility. I felt terrible. If anything can make me fall apart, a woman’s tears will do it every time. It was one of those: “Oh, what a stupid jerk I was …” moments in my life. (see previous blog post: "Oh, What a Stupid jerk I was...!" As humans we are very proud. Whether in politics, religion, or social interactions, we like to think of ourselves as the center around which everyone dances. As a result, we can get so engrossed in our own world, in our own sphere of responsibility, that we forget that each of us are simply a cog. We are simply the cog of a greater machinery. No doubt, a very important cog; one without which the machine may fail to do its work at its utmost capacity or fail to do it all together. Without that cog, the machine may even be dangerous, but in spite of all these, we are one of these cogs and we have to work in unison with many other cogs. This new realization changed my perspective on everything. My concerns were certainly valid, but to push them above and beyond every other priority that my overseer was responsible for was wrong. I also realized that there were things that I could do myself in order to solve my own problems. When reminiscing on these things of the past, I often thought that I am glad I didn’t go to her husband who was also an overseer for the school network. I probably didn’t because I knew he would have pushed the ‘authority button’, the “We know what we’re doing so deal with it” card on me which would have made me resist even more. Those ‘women’s tears’ actually did more to teach me a good lesson than any authoritative talk.
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