The practice of principles

-

The big meeting I had recently did not net me the result I wanted or, frankly, was expecting. The decision makers chose the status quo not change. I had really wanted the chance to implement my proposal, and I’m disappointed that I don’t have it. 

I realize that part of what I’m wrestling with is a relatively unfamiliar feeling: not getting what I want. I'm not talking about not getting the doll I wanted when I was seven (I had been hoping for a Betsy Wetsy, but she was not under the tree for me) or not getting the lead role in the school play. I'm talking about not getting something that was meaningful to me as a seasoned professional, something that I believed my track record had earned me.

In contemplating my feelings about this loss, I am realizing that, within my privilege of white middle class educated experience, I am much more used to getting, if not exactly what I want, then getting something close enough that I come out on the winning side and am, thus, able to easily move forward with deserved recognition and well founded optimism. 

I am left struggling to reconcile my own sense of self as a capable person with the version of me that has been seen — yes, sure, appreciated for what I bring but not appreciated enough to give me this next opportunity. 

In among that struggle, I am trying to live up to my own principles of integrity and professionalism while not succumbing to my sinful tendencies of dropping the F-bomb and speaking my mind about what the decision-makers have done. The struggle is a fine line between acceptance and anger. And that is a very fine line indeed. 

But, as Joan Allen’s character says in The Contender, principles are only worth something if you live up to them even when they are inconvenient or difficult for you. And I believe she is right.  


-------------------------------------------


Photo by Jaleel Akbash on Unsplash 

Location: Winnipeg, MB, Canada

Comments

  1. danielle-momoJune 19, 2020 at 6:35 AM

    I'm so sorry Amanda that it didn't turn the way you wished.
    By your posts, I know how you are committed and how you work hard.
    I understand your struggle.
    Been there, done that and did the best I could anyway.
    Now , I consider that my last struggling years at work have been steps for me to slip in a rewarding retirement.


    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Amanda Le RougetelJune 19, 2020 at 7:34 AM

      Merci, Danielle. Your comment is very meaningful to me, and I appreciate you sharing your own experience.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Comments are moderated. Please be respectful.

Popular posts from this blog

Listening for the piano / Thinking about grief

-
Image
Grief is not a land in which I have travelled much, though I routinely explore it via others’ experience. I am drawn to do this as a student is drawn to the masters: To observe, to sit with, to wonder if those others’ experiences might help prepare me for my own when I find myself in that place. Will it? Sara Paretsky, author of the V.I. Warshawski mystery series, says that the grief over her long-time husband’s death hit her like a grand piano falling out of the sky onto her head. There is no pre-mourning, she says. Nonetheless, I persist in my studies: Memoirs of loss. Stories of grief. Tales of survival. I sit with those experiences. The words, the feelings, the anguish wash over me. And I ask myself: Will the sun rise tomorrow? Will I see it when it does?  Should I worry about this? Should I just expect, presume that what has always been will always be? Absurd. It will not always be. The loves of my life are all older, are all old. 95, my mother. Almost 80, my p...
Read more

Anniversary post: This year marks 31 together

-
Image
Amanda and Val: many years ago and today.  Man, look how young we were. Sheesh. Thirty-one years and counting certainly shows. But who in their right mind would care about wrinkles or grey hair when it is a good and generous love that has propelled us through the years together.  Every good story is told through both summary and scenes. Val & Amanda’s story: The summary A generous love that has withstood the challenges of two bouts of cancer and multiple joint replacements, of job changes and career disappointments, of cats found and cats lost, of parents living and parents dying. Two women, together, building a good life. Amanda: Three scenes April 1997: Val and I are driving from Winnipeg  down through the Dakotas and Wyoming and Utah to Arizona, camping in a tent along the way and marvelling at what we can do together, still, after Val’s cancer diagnosis earlier that year. At a roadside cafe somewhere in Utah, a woman asks me if we are sisters. Without skipping a b...
Read more

If pride comes before a fall, what comes after disappointment?

-
Image
Disappointment is not something any of us aim for, I’m sure. The very last thing I ever want to be told by someone is that they are disappointed in me. But this week, I have been very disappointed in others. Life goes on, but that niggling thread of “if only” and “why could it not have been different” lingers in the corners of my mind. Last week’s lightening-quick sale of our cottage ended in disappointment all round when the deal fell through at the final hurdle. The details are not what matter here; what matters is that age-old life lesson about counting your chickens before they’re hatched and sharing good news before it is fully rooted and secured. But who among us has not jumped the gun? Presumed that all would go as promised, as planned? Believed in the goodness of people and trusted that the story would unfold as it had begun — smoothly, seamlessly, successfully? Ah, well. Sometimes it just doesn’t. So we find ourselves at a new beginning, with a different round of showings and...
Read more