Bonifyde

Caveat: this blog is going to strike you as a total kowtow, it being some form of citation to my boss(es). Then again, final performance appraisal ratings aren't in yet...so I just might be able to jack it up with this sucking up. KIDDING!!!


Despite the fact that I was consistently told I was self-assured, and that I could confidently carry a conversation with anyone anytime, I still find myself occasionally stuttering and anxiously organizing my thoughts whenever I am engaged in a conversation with bosses (or anyone in [higher] authority). I am yet to find the -phobia terminology for it...but for now, it will suffice to say that I am boss-phobic.

I've always believed that there should always be some invisible professional demarcation between the boss and the subordinate. This philosophy has long been corroborated by the numerous tables of organization where the boss is always in the higher box, and the subordinate(s) in teenie-weenie boxes underneath. Or the ever-raised platforms that a professor stands on to symbolize his higher status compared to his students. The concept of friendships between a boss and his subordinate is almost always a hypothetical situation. Needless to say, I have always maintained a safe distance from my bosses and kept them in a box labeled "handle with precaution".

Candy, the first boss who fished me out of my hodgepodge of a lack of career direction and who helped me find my niche in the corporate world, shattered this viewpoint effortlessly. She coexisted as my mentor, friend, and mother. It was through her that I came to realize that inspite of all the chaos of deadlines and presentations and standards in the workplace, there will always be time for a sympathetic, warm, and humane moment between a boss and his subordinate. I left the company in tears as she hugged me tight--also in tears--and sent me off to greener pastures outside of the country.

I was on this no-boundaries boss-subordinate mindset when I worked with my boss Luisa in the US Pacific. It started out fine and dandy. Imagine her picking me up from my flat (and vice-versa), or hanging out at her apartment just watching cable or laughing about people and events. Or her calling me at six in the morning to ask me to reassure her that her pelvic inflammation and irritation otherwise known as chlamydia was nothing deadly. Or me desperately making her change her mind about dumping her American boyfriend. Or me putting the entire training calendar at a standstill just to accommodate all the last minute preparations for her grand wedding...with the same American boyfriend that she almost didn't marry. Now, imagine me asking for a really minor request to have an emergency five-day leave because a loved one was diagnosed with gastric cancer and needed a companion to visit the specialist in the US Mainland...and being denied the request only because of some preposterous company policy about emergency leaves, which she cannot even circumvent for a friend in dire need. And imagine me filing my resignation the day after, and her telling me after accepting the resignation that I had "no regard for our 'friendship'"...and then weeks later telling everybody how I was an irresponsible and incompetent employee. And imagine nobody believing this scumlike mudslinging, but her still continuing to do so years later. Sad. How very, very sad. No. Wait a minute. It isn't sad. It's simply pathetic.

With that experience, I reverted to the cautionary subordinate-to-boss frame of mind. Call it edification, but when my new boss, Pilar, the school principal, showed signs of warmth, concern, and sincerity like what Candy showed years back, I did not respond too well. The whole semester that I was under her, where I was assured that I could tell her anything, or that I could approach her for anything, I still kept a safe distance. She was a very nice boss. But, alas, I was already played out with the friends-with-the-boss card, thanks to Luisa.

And then there's Boni. With the scarcity of Candy's appearance (note: we now work in the same company since I came back to the Philippines), thanks to her meetings on end, Boni became the Mini Me of Candy. I remember how I fought tears from falling when he told me how proud he was of me for doing a good job in one of our training programs. I also had the same emotions when he singlehandedly took over my training/facilitating parts in our out-of-town seminars when I caught the flu virus, and had to rest and snack on his supply of medicines. I am infinitely thankful to him for not making me feel stupid regardless of the fact that I MAY already BE an idiot in some of the decisions or task(s) that I needed to accomplish. I find lightheartedness in his allowing my constant attempt to do a makeover on his wardrobe/outfit, as well as in his confiding his stories about his (a) funny (b) weird (c) disappointing (d) heartwarming (e) semi-sexual and (f) all of the above dates...and finally ending with hopefully-THE-one girl in his arms.

Coming from yet another out-of-town workshop, where I totally felt like I was of no value whatsoever because I almost didn't understand the proceedings, he made me feel that I was not a failure...that Ella (our assistant manager) and I were not expected to be "experts" in it, considering it was simply an exposure program for us. He could have simply shaken his head and gotten dissapointed, but he chose to make us understand the process better, and helped us discover it ourselves. I know I would have just given up on a subordinate. But he didn't. And I wish that in my training as a manager, I could acquire such patience, understanding, and sensitivity.

Yesterday afternoon, while watching a B movie called "Land of the Dead" with my date (please don't EVER watch that senseless movie!), I got a text from Boni: Ben, for all the good work and friendship, I have a gift for you! Guess what??! It turned out to be an army dog tag necklace, which I have long been scouring all over to find, and which I have only fleetingly mentioned to him and Ella in one of our lunches together. I totally did not deserve it, but still I felt so overwhelmingly stoked to be made to feel important. And I say it again, I wish that in my training as a manager, I could acquire his virtues.

Thanks for the Boner, man.

Yes, dammit. I know that that one didn't sound right. But then again, coming from me or you or Ella (hehe...PEACE ELLA!), what does? ;)