Here's a story about how job training goes wrong. It's also a story that, while infuriating to me, does one of those literary things where the situation mirrors the group of people it's about. Mmm, very interesting, except that it's exasperating.
I went to substitute teacher training--training us how to use the new computer system so that we’re called in using it, rather than the guy who’s retiring. Not that we used him, I mean, he called us...you know.
It’s strange to be in the midst of a human to computer transition. It’s comforting that I know the person isn’t being fired; strange, though, since I know the fellow who did the job was competent and kind. I’m not likely to find a computer who is understanding that I had a bad day and couldn’t stay at work.
Another thing I am, apparently, unlikely to find, is an intelligent group of people. The schedule for the training had been slightly mauled and, thus, I was in a training with teachers, not just substitute teachers. There were substitutes there, but we were the minority.
To start, a woman stood at the front and said, “Okay, I’d like to get started……to get started.” The room started to settle down. A number of “Shhhhh” sounds were heard. That made me smile. It’s funny to hear adults shushing each other. It’s funny to me, anyway.
So our trainer was talking and there were other people talking. Teachers were talking to each other while this training was going on. The were talking during class.
!
What the hell is that? What kind of teacher talks during class? This kind does, I guess.
Then they asked questions that I couldn’t believe they would ask.
Question one: “Could you repeat that number?”
Sure. That’s a normal question. But once you ask it four times (I’m not exaggerating.), don’t you think you should have been listening or have been able to ask your neighbor to look at his or her notes? Hm? Don’t you?
Question two: “Do I call that number or do I call someone else?”
Well, now we’re getting into territory that is infuriating. Who else would you call? And why? It's a little sad, yes, to realize that you're going to have to do just what everyone else does. It means that you're not any more special than anyone else .It means that you have to follow the rules. The answer is this: You call that number.
Question three: “What if, now this doesn't apply to me, what if I have a situation that makes it so that I don’t have to get up so early or work so hard, like what if I don't have a class until second period so that it wouldn't be necessary for the substitute teacher to get there right on time and then I wouldn't have to get up in the morning so early and it would be easier if the rules were different for that particular situation that doesn't apply to me, but if it did, what do I do then?”
Oh, honey, don’t make me beat you. “What-if” questions are extra-annoying. (They’re annoying when I ask them of myself and equally unhelpful.) And if they don’t apply to you, they’re extra extra-annoying. And shall we refer back to question two? You’re not special. You’re like everyone else. You have to do exactly what they have to do: You call that number.
Question four: “If your kids are sick and you need to stay home, but you can still come in for the beginning of the day, like half of first period, and the substitute teacher could come in late, should you call in the morning, even if it’s really early, or can we call that other number so that we don’t have to get up and call so early?”
See question two.
I left early. I think I had absorbed enough training. I am that special.
Posted by dotty at February 19, 2006 11:41 PM | TrackBack