Be a Useful Cog
A couple days ago I noticed the fence I built for the goats bowing out near the house. Peanut, the boer goat, had been rubbing on that corner, the one closest to the humans. Went out today to patch it and she’d pretty much destroyed it. Welded wire snapped off in spaces. Now I’m ripping out a couple panels and rewiring them, and I think I’m putting a rail about sixteen inches off the ground the whole way around, maybe higher, so when she shoulders into it she can’t rip it apart anymore.
I spent a lot of time and a lot of energy and a lot of procrastination putting that fence together. Finally got the goats out there, and they’re enjoying it. But as the old adage goes: if it won’t hold water, it won’t hold a goat. That’s where we’re at.
That’s probably my mood in a nutshell. It’s a metaphor for what’s going on with the US and Canada and trade right now. Elbows up and all that junket. It’s a metaphor for foreign wars. It’s a metaphor for the frustration of work that seems pointless sometimes.
Faculty are coming back to their organizations that have had some changes over the last year, restructuring and such, unsure how to actually deal with AI in the classroom. They know it’s not going anywhere, it’s not a fad, it’s something they need to adapt to. Some are just wondering what tool they’re even allowed to use, because AI policy lags behind the pace of the tech. Returning students are tired, working, busy, trying to do all the things. New students are just trying to figure out what the hell they wanna do with their life. Times are tough. They want a good job, some value for their money, to make something of their lives without having to suffer, which is what this world feels like right now.
There are things you can change in this world and things you can’t. You can’t control the machinations of a foreign power. You can’t change the fact that the world is on fire. But you can change the things you control. You can make sure you do good work. You can make sure you’re kind to other people. You can make sure you’re in service to other people, actually helpful in this world, a good citizen. You can make sure you’re kind to yourself. And tongue firmly planted in cheek, you can realize none of this effing matters. It’s all just a point in time, and this too shall pass is a pretty reasonable way to live. Nothing is forever, nothing truly matters in a long game. All you’ve got to do is make sure you’re doing right by your own values, and that you’re honest with yourself.
That happens on a regular basis for me. It happened back in the spring, during the organizational changes related to our reduction in force. A lot of uncertainty, both in my own employment, though I was ultimately fine, and in the employment of others. It’s bled through the rest of the year, people leaving their roles for greener pastures. The work didn’t go anywhere. There’s been a lot of churn, focus, activity, trying to make sure the organization can operate without key people that were in place. These things happen. You don’t always get it right. I even had my own scope of work change. It can be overwhelming, and I do have to tell myself, quite regularly, and it is helpful: Doug, you can only do what you can do. Prioritize the right things, be in service of the learner and the organization, and you’ll be fine. As long as your priorities are in the right space, and you realize that, none of it really matters. You are a cog, but you can be a useful cog that does good useful things. I make sure I’m kind to other people as much as I can, and I make sure I stay human, because that really matters more than anything else. That’s what it is to be a real person. So I remind myself, when I get overwhelmed and angry at the machinery of the organization: none of this is anybody’s fault. No one’s out to get me. It’s about bringing craft to the job. I’ve talked about craft before as a sense in how to make things, but it can also be an approach to living your life.
We lost a colleague recently. Someone I knew and worked with. Since COVID happened I kind of lost track of him. It is hard to stay connected to people. He’s not the only one. I lost another colleague about three years ago, someone I was great friends with, who got cancer and died. And now we don’t have these people in our lives anymore.
Part of being a person in my mid-fifties is watching people disappear, either they move on to other careers, other jobs, or they pass on to the other realm. The reduction in force back in the spring came with its own grieving process too. Because we did lose people. The stuff they did remained. Their role as a cog still has to happen. The gears still have to turn. The machinery still has to work. Sometimes you route around it, sometimes you shoulder in and get it done. Do good work. Be kind. What else is there?
I keep coming back to the Dread Pirate Roberts, telling Westley every night for years: good work, sleep well, I’ll most likely kill you in the morning. Sometimes I’m Westley. Sometimes I’m Roberts.
Fence still needs fixing. I’ll get to it this weekend. Maybe. It’s supposed to rain.
Hakuna Matata.
