Give Me a Roethlisberger, Hold the Pickle

I’m not sure why I waited or if it would have even mattered, but I started reading Stephen M.R. Covey’s “The Speed of Trust,” a self-help book given to me by management over the summer. I decided to read the book not out of necessity or obligation; At least that’s what I’d like to believe. I started reading it because of one particular incident that has left me, as they’d say in baseball, “in a pickle.”

Here is what I did: I informed an employee that it wasn’t a good idea to offer up a fellow coworker’s name for whatever problems arose in their shared workspace, especially when questioned in the office area. Before I could finish, she made it known that my advice meant nothing.

I should’ve kept my mouth shut. But I didn’t. I sincerely believe my intentions were noble. I told her there’s a certain individual who listens to everything we say and communicates that knowledge to the inmates. She knew exactly who I was referring to, and yeah, I mentioned his name. As I walked away, another coworker said, “You’d’ve been better off sticking your tongue in a light socket.”

Before I tell you how I got ostracized, let me point out Covey’s three factors involving intent: motive, agenda, and behavior. He asks, “Are you going to trust someone who could really care less about you … or about work … or about principles, or values, or anyone or anything else?”

Reflecting back, this may have been where I made my biggest mistake. I thought I was protecting a coworker from having her business freely shared with prisoners, information that could be used to manipulate policies and procedures and ultimately compromise the safety of the institution.

In the book I learned about Covey’s two categorizations for agenda: 1). Mutual benefit and 2) Self-serving. He claims that “The Speed of Trust” is greatest when seeking mutual benefit.

I agree. Not once did I think about how advising my coworker would benefit me. Not once. And within two days it became quite clear that as far as mutual benefit (which I intended) there was zilch, nada, zero. I’ve learned long ago how to navigate volatile situations; unfortunately, in this case, my speed of trust traveled from one coworker to another, who in turn, told the office worker, who in turn, confronted me.

“Did you tell so and so that I was talking about her to the prisoners?” he asked outside my classroom door.

“You talk about everybody in front of the prisoners,” I replied.

“You’re a fucking idiot!” he yelled.

Wow! I think that Trust-Mobile careened out of control and rolled into the ditch. My students heard the name calling and started laughing.

But it doesn’t end there! Next, the office worker called the boss at home (who does that?) to say that I stirred the pot by telling a female employee that he made sexual remarks about her in front of the prisoners.

Huh? What?

The plot thickens, the rumor mill’s now at full production: his informant, the one who may have twisted my message … gulp … there’s allegations … gulp … there’s subtle hints—hell, I don’t know what to make of any of this—that there’s been an affair … enough drama.

I’ll finish the &*#@*!!! Book and keep my mouth shut. I’ve seen too much crap jump off in prison to get involved in this kind of horseshit. From now on, the only time I’ll speak out is when an inmate is waving a lock in a sock at an unsuspecting coworker.

Lesson learned.

As for football: Pittsburgh will punish Green Bay with a slow, steady ground attack.