As I recently read in a student paper, “Ultimate power corrupts ultimately.”
Hayley, in response to my last post, wrote that it’s “interesting to note the respect afforded you as a business owner. . . . You are acquiring stature and power!”, to which Dan responded:
“Ah, power! — now that’s a subject that Jamie and I haven’t really touched on much, probably in large part because neither of us have exercised very much of it to this point in our lives. We’ve both gone out of our way to avoid exercising power, which I used to think was an admirable thing but am now, more and more, thinking was a form of immaturity, an evasion of responsibility. I hope Jamie’s bar succeeds if for no other reason than that it will force him to learn how to exercise power responsibly,” to which Hayley responded,
“Yes, power, the most overused word in my feminist activism course, but something I think about regularly in many different contexts. I, too, have avoided it. I always envisioned the happiest life (and still do to some extent) as one in which I needn’t exercise it or be subject to undue amounts of it. But I’m in agreement with you, Daniel, that part of growing up is "exercising power responsibly."”
Aside from one little response to Dan’s take, that Dan and I haven’t tried to exercise or, perhaps, have tried our dangdest not to exercise intrinsic societal male power in it’s traditional manifestations – the point being that there’s certainly a good bit of male power we’ve inevitably exercise inherent to our manhood – Dan’s and Hayley’s comments were right on the money and real eye-openers. Power, indeed. Dan’s suggestion that by not exercising power – responsibly, ethically, pro-feministickally – we have shirked in some way, kind of blew my mind, and relates very much to the new assertiveness and acceptance of responsibility that goes with ownership and that I am trying to take on. To wit, here is what I planned to start this post with:
I first noticed a real change in me, psychologically, (that is, beyond my increased number of handyman skills) when I worked a catering job recently. Because of the bar project, I’ve been unable to commit to any teaching or other work this summer, so I worked a few shifts for a local catering company as a bartender. The managing owner/boss is fairly exacting, or rather, she knows how she wants things done, and then once they’re done right, she’s pretty mellow. Normally, with any employer, especially when I’ve just started working for them, I’ll ask a lot of questions on how to proceed with a task instead of just doing the job as I see fit, and I had only worked for them once, a year ago.
The first gig I worked in June was a big one with lots of setup. The boss (Christine), was working with her very young staff of servers. Perhaps because of my age and bartending experience, and because she was harried, she pretty much left me alone. As I was setting up, at first I went looking for her to ask her this and that, but quickly, upon seeing that she was busy, I just went about the business of setting up the bar as I saw fit, making the many little decisions that have to be made when one sets up a makeshift bar. When I was done, she stopped by, and I asked her if things looked okay, expecting a list of little changes, and she said “Looks Great. What else do you need?”
Since then I’ve thought a lot about how many activites throughout my life I could’ve done instead of asking for help with, how many construction tasks I’ve begun to figure out myself instead of asking for training/help on, and how annoying I find students who’d rather ask me how to do an assignment than wrestle with it themselves. I’ve been noticing that I’ve been more assertive and self-starting (more male?) in other aspects of my life too – on a committee I serve on regarding promoting the arts here in Turners; in a freelance writing job I’m doing for the local theater; in facilitating an impromptu fourth of July party; in confidently, patiently manning the grill at said party (a mantask from which I normally flee). It’s really something.
Related to but not exactly the same as the assertive/confident factor is a thoroughness and discipline that’s radically new for me, as exemplified by the grilling mentioned above. One of my partners – we’ll call him Chris, because that’s his name, is an obsessive and extremely diligent worker and something of a perfectionist, and he expects his effort to be matched by those he collaborates with. This, of course, is impossible, but his dedication and expectations of himself have made me commit, focus, and produce in ways I just never thought I was capable of.
As a writer, normally, I’ll go to the cafe and sit for six hours “writing.” In that time I’ll chat with people, surf the web, email, . . . and hope to get an hour or so of solid work done. In that same six hours, Chris will get eight hours’ work done. In just two months I’ve gone from someone who, puppylike, follows every distraction that comes my way – my partners used to joke about my disappearing act at the job site or while out running errands – to someone who will sit and pick paint chips off a wall or screw screws or roll paint pretty steadily for hours on end. Occasionally – like, say, the other day, the 4th, a holiday when I went in to work by myself for a while on priming the edges of our tin ceiling – I’ll revert to my old habits: paint for twenty minutes, talk on the phone, paint for twenty minutes, write the beginning of this post, paint for twenty minutes, eat a snack, paint for twenty minutes, plan that barbeque. That spotty pattern is still natural for me, but now it feels like a decadent vacation, not like just “the way I work.” I think I like the new me better, and hope that these new skills/habits, once the bar is up and running, transfer over to my writing.
In closing, here are some of the skills and tools I’ve learned how to competently perform/use on the job:
-nail gun
-various drills (I actually crave my own power tools! [If anyone’s dying to buy me my first power tool set, I’m partial to Milwaukee’s introductory cordless line).
-hammer (no, seriously, I’ve learned how to hammer semi-properly, and that there’s a big difference between a good hammer and a crappy one)
-chop saw (but I’m very careful, Mom)
-sawzall
-priming and painting and cleaning brushes and rollers, etc. (I’ve done it all before, just not correctly)
-demo! (I never believed them when they told me how fun it was.)
-the many wonders of prybars, wonderbars, crowbars
-utility knife (yes, I know know how to use, more or less, an xacto – to cut soundboard, sheet rock, rope, plastic, just about anything)
-insulation (it makes you itch! if you don’t wear a mask, it even makes your throat itch in a totally new and interesting way! dog wants to lie in it, shouldn’t lie in it!)
-the proper use of a caulk gun and application of many a caulk, sealant, and adhesive . . . and so much more. I could go on all day, but, even though it’s three days later, I’ll end with what I started writing on one of my little breaks while working alone in the bar last week:
It’s the forth of July. I am in the bar, alone, priming the bathroom walls. It’s only a couple hours of work, and it’s not unpleasant, really. But the fact that I’m working, on my own, on a holiday, is testament to how this project has, I hope, changed me for the better and, I hope, for good.
