tried previously to talk to someone about your experiences?” he asked. Donna blushed slightly as she cast a glance at Dr. Eldren, then back to Collin.
“Yes, Collin,” she said, “sometime after the shaking experience with the supervisor, and as tension continued to grow there in the office, I went to talk to my clergyman about it one evening. I told him I was under a great deal of tension because of conditions at my place of employment. He made arrangements for me to see a therapist, which I did and which after a few sessions I discontinued.”
Collin’s curiosity was aroused some more. “May I ask, Donna, why you discontinued with the therapist?”
“Well Collin,” she replied, “with all due respect, it was really futile. There was very little response except once in a while a brick came tumbling down from the wall, knocking me on the head. I was having enough bricks tumble on me at work.”
Some group members were puzzled at Donna’s statement. But Gilda Emerson smiled a broad smile of acknowledgment of familiarity.
“Would you clarify that statement for us Donna, please,” she asked.
“Yes Gilda,” replied Donna, “what I mean is I talked and talked and talked. As I said, there was little response except that once in a while when I would relate to him a particularly upsetting experience he would say, ‘and that bothers you does it?’ or, later he started saying something to the effect, ‘well why are you working there if it bothers you like that?’; and later still, ‘well why are you working in a place like that?’ I found it to be deflating to say the least. So I stopped seeing him.
“The therapist had no idea or understanding of the world in which I had to live. Even if he had, I think the approach towards which he was heading me was just futile. It seems he was going to impress upon me that I was too sensitive, and that he was going to help me change my mind-set so that I could take all that the obnoxious people threw at me without it bothering me, or that if it did, then I should move elsewhere.
“When the hatred and hostility are so intense, and your job, your working credibility and capacity, and your personality are being destroyed, how can you not let it bother you. No person is that insensitive. How can you go somewhere else, when you know chances are it will be just about the same there? And why should I have to forfeit a good employment opportunity with future promise just because some obnoxious persons can’t stand to have me around?” said Donna with disgust.
“Can’t stand to have you around because you are too good for them,” emphasized Collin.
Donna nodded in agreement.
“It is a fact everything is stacked in their favor and to our detriment,” Collin commented further, “and psychology is keeping it that way and supporting it. Psychology has done nothing to discover and expose the raw side of adult life. They only try to soothe the pain of it for us. That may help us sometimes, and only sometimes, to survive after a fashion, but it does nothing to help us live life fully as we ought to be able to do.”
“I’ll say amen to that,” added Gilda vibrantly, “your therapist was sending you in a similar direction my psychiatrist was sending me. I’m mighty glad I got out of hospital and away from him.”
Dr. Eldren shuffled uncomfortably in his chair.
Collin thought to himself, we’d better get off this track quickly, and onto another. Sometime later, much later, we will somehow have to get back on this track again. I myself will want to express some very strong concerns in this regard. But for heavens sake let’s get off it now until a more appropriate time.
“Donna,” Collin shot quickly and emphatically, “your point is well taken by me. It is very understandable, yours too Gilda. But now I wonder can we have Donna wind up her story as she had planned in the time that is left this evening?”
Gilda, having sensed Dr. Eldren’s uneasiness, caught on quickly.
“Yes,” said Gilda, “I think it would be a relief for Donna to get through with her story this evening. I’ll try not to interrupt again.”
“Well,” said Donna, “to describe my later experiences briefly, it was a time of almost continuous tension. I was working hard at two jobs. From a distance, the supervisor kept an almost continuous eye on me. For the remainder of my time there, I had to be near perfect to avoid criticism. I was fast becoming high strung and a nervous wreck. By being so nearly perfect, I was able to protect myself from any open and severe criticism. I never left him room for complaint, although I could sense he was almost continually looking for an opening to get at me. But his attitude towards me was negative from that time on. Hard looks came my way often. There was never a cheerful word or greeting when, on occasion, I was in his close vicinity. From time to time, through the assistant supervisor, and never directly, he made inquiry concerning my work, asking why was so much overtime necessary in my section. Why could I not spend more time in the collections section? Was I spending too much time away from my desk during the day? The pressure was really on. I didn’t feel free even about going to the washroom any more, although I did when necessary. But even that was a nerve wracking experience. And the most hurting part of it all was that others were just as free as they pleased to be. Most of them were doing a normal day’s work with time out for chatting, and coffee, etc. etc, a reasonable touch of those things that keep a person human as you work through the routines and intricacies of commerce and industry. Some others of them were doing less than a good day’s work. None of them were being disciplined.”
“I began to feel very strongly and much to my disappointment that I wouldn’t be able to stay on working with this corporation. However, there was one thing I could try. I could perhaps appeal to the general manager. It would take nerve. It would take tactful explanation, and certainly it would be a long shot. The supervisor had been with the corporation for a long time. So had the general manager. They were long time business associates. I would be sticking my neck out, but I had nothing to lose. I just couldn’t stay on under present circumstances.”
“I watched for an appropriate opportunity. One day when the general manager was circulating through our department, as he occasionally did all departments, I maneuvered myself to be in his pathway. Being in a jolly mood he greeted me cheerfully. I asked if I could speak to him for a minute about a personal concern.
“‘Sure,’ he replied, ‘what’s on your mind?’
“‘Well,’ I said, ‘I have tried very hard since I’ve been working here to do my work faithfully and well. My own summation of my efforts in this regard is that my work is efficient, if I may say so myself. However, the department supervisor seems to be down on me. I get the impression that he doesn’t like me. I am under a great deal of unnecessary pressure here.’
“‘Oh come now, Miss Coyne,’ he responded, as he patted me cheerfully on the upper arm, ‘your supervisor has been with this corporation for a long time. He has gotten more work done for us over the years, than anyone else I know. You’ll get to know, in time, that he’s a good sort. Don’t worry about a thing, Miss Coyne.’ He went cheerfully on his way. My problem hadn’t reached through to him to any depth. As capable a manager as he was, he was apparently unable to recognize my particular problem. My hope for survival in that corporation was diminished greatly in one brief conversation.
“In the weeks that followed, I made a brave effort to keep up and keep going. Occasionally, an added quandary would creep in on my mind. I would wonder if the general manager told the supervisor of my complaint against him, and if so would he be vindictive, or, would he improve his attitude towards me?
“As the weeks went by,
