Work Problems.
I've been working nights for the past months, and in that time I have come into contact with a building site administator who has the people skills of a flesh eating virus.
I'm Maori. There is a popular perception here, long held and deep seated amongst the ignorant, that we are not very bright as a race. I deal with this every working day and try to change perceptions.
The fact that I am a labourer does not help me. It kind of reinforces the aforementioned perception of me and my people. I do this type of work because I really like it, and I'm so good at it that I can contract my skills out and make enough money to keep me happy. But I don't feel that I have to explain this to anybody. I am always judged by my cover. It galls me how surprised some have been to discover that yes, I have a brain, and it functions quite well, thankyou very much.
As I have said, the person in charge of the site I am working on is not a nice piece of work. I suspect he was bullied at school by large polynesian types like myself, and revels in his revenge now that he can crack a whip.
I am not obliged to listen to him - I'm a contractor. He is in charge of the temporary labourers but has lumped me in with them and last night it came to a head.
I will do almost anything for someone who asks me politely, as you would one human being to another. But treat me like a slave and I'll rebel.
This guy knows my name but refers to me as 'boy'. I find this interesting because I'm older than he is. Last night was his third strike after being asked nicely twice to use my name because I don't like being called 'boy'. Yet, he persisted; he kept calling me boy so I stopped listening to him. He appealed to my boss who knows what I'm like and told him to fight his own battles. This came to a head when he lost his rag and let loose a tirade of racial abuse when I refused to even acknowledge his presence.
Anger clouded his judgement. When he came too, he was faced with an angry six foot two ex boxing champ none to impressed with his oratical skill. My boss had to hold me back. The administrator actually had the cheek to hide behind his labourers, who parted like the red sea for me to get at him like the good polynesian brothers that they are. I didn't get to hit him but I really wanted to. My reasoning was that since you persist in treating me like savage, I'll show you savage alright.
So I've been swapped over to another crew. The administrator there is a really good bloke. I'm just glad I didn't lose it and paint the walls with the little prick!
8 Comments
Recommended Comments