5:48 AM PDT - Aug. 26, 2004
transformation
that is what they call this exercise of growing a tree and tearing it down and growing another tree for three years. transformation. as if we're supposed to evolve into a better something. a frog. a lizard. a black and white colobus monkey. i've given up. the thoughts of being somewhere at the top of this heap. the constant ass-kissing and ass-kicking. i've watched another do it and lose everything. the self. the politeness. how they now deny any truth that is told about them with pocket phrases. it was misheard. let's take that off-line. anything for branch or a twig up the ladder. actually, i haven't given up. i sit in my office, see Tate's Memoirs of Hawk on my shelf, dust piling like the first snow. maybe i'm just circling, quiet, knowing that the lizard below will sit still for hours on that rock but at some point in time, i tell my stomach, they will have to move. but i really hate my job right now. not the work, or the people i work with for the most part, just the whole idea of holding employees hostage to an organization that has taken three years to change itself. and no real opportunities for advancement except for the white people in my organization. yes, i said it. white people. it can't be a falsehood if i'm watching the few who go up the ladder and not one is an equally qualified brown person. welcome to america, again. now go pick your strawberries.
