Power-Trippers

 

I’m not quite sure what made me focus on this topic, but I wanted to take a moment to talk about it. Have you ever in the course of your life run into a person who seems to just thrive on power-tripping? Chances are you have. And I’ll tell ya – I can’t stand them! Truly. Whether it be in your school life, or professional life, or whatever; power-trippy people need to just be slapped until I feel better.

Some of my earliest unpleasant-people-interaction-memories have to be with power-trippers. In fact, I think my first experience with this had to be in First Grade. Now, before I go into my mini-rant, please let me preface this – I am NOT picking on teachers! I think there’s a helluvalot of teachers out there who are underpaid, overworked, and underappreciated. But there are also a few out there who are power-trippers.

Let’s turn the clock back a while. The year was 19… oh dear… um… a long time ago. And I was a First Grade student. Now, I know a lot of people say this about themselves, but the fact is I was a good kid. Frankly, a little bit too good. I was squeaky-clean, paranoid about getting In-Trouble with a massive inferiority-complex and a fear of adults. One day, the class was acting loud and crazy, as First Graders tend to do. The teacher ordered the class to all “take your seats, fold your hands, and sit quietly.” Um… “fold” your hands? I had never heard that term before. And I honestly didn’t know what she meant. So I tried weaving my fingers together, and that didn’t work. I pulled at my fingers until my knuckles cracked. That didn’t work. And as I looked up, I realized that the entire class was quiet, and all eyes were on me. And as far back as that, the “I am being singled out and under the spotlight!” panic set in. I began breathing quickly, and flop-sweating. The panic was so intense that it didn’t occur to me to just look at what my classmates were doing. I continued to hurredly manipulate my hands (to the point where they hurt!) to try and “Fold” them. Finally, I looked down at the desks, and saw how my classmates had their fingers woven comfortably together. “OH!” I realized. “THAT is what she meant!” So I did the same thing. And when I did, my teacher singled me out, chastising me for what she interpreted as clowning around, and then handed out her “you will stay after school” punishment to the whole class, thus earning me the ire of the entire class. I was humiliated. I was hated. And it honestly just wasn’t my fault! Looking back, the teacher was power-tripping, and just being a jerk. But I learned early on that sometimes life just isn’t fair.

Fast forward. It was now 8^th grade, and my family and I were snow-birds. We spent part of the year in New England, and part in Florida. While I liked living in both places, I HATED changing schools mid-stream. It always felt like I was behind the 8-ball when I arrived and everyone else was settled into a routine while I felt like I was floundering. I recall distinctly the first day I attended an English class. I sat through class, being attentive, and mentally mapped out where my next class was – clear across campus. As the bell rung, I sprinted out of my chair and made my way toward the door, knowing that it would take time to get to my next class. Yet, nobody else was moving. Huh? Almost to the door, I turned around, and found that nobody else had left their seats. What was wrong? I froze. Once again, the “I am being singled out and under the spotlight!” panic set in. Again, I began breathing quickly, and flop-sweating. Finally, one of my annoyed classmates said, “Sit DOWN!!!!!” Quickly, I turned around and took my seat, as my teacher decided to lecture me and the entire class about how the bell did not signal when we were allowed to leave her class. SHE would tell us when we were allowed to leave. There was no regard for the fact that some of us had to travel clear across campus and would receive detention if we were late. SHE had to be in charge. And SHE had the power to allow us to leave after the bell rung. And I, who did not receive the memo that she was a power-tripper, now had to pay the price of my ignorance. After our lecture, she dismissed us – giving me a death-stare as I slowly left her classroom, before running as fast as I could to the other side of the school.

Over the course of years, I would occasionally run into personality types like this – the fat loser of a manager at the movie theater who would stand around chatting with suck-up pet co-workers of mine while ordering me to wash the windows, again, and again, and again. Why? Because I didn’t find his stupid jokes funny. Then there was the crazy-ass boss ages ago who didn’t like it when I came up with a fast and easy way to accomplish a task, simply because it isn’t the way that HE would do it. Then I would have to listen to his series of expletives used in a chastisement which would digress into a canned speech about how he was smarter than anybody else in the entire company. (And no, I’m not exaggerating one bit). Of course, that wasn’t as bad as the boss who told me that I could not leave the office until he dismissed me, and he would always find a convenient way to be away from his own office right around five o’clock.

My point here? I have no patience for power-trippy people. I don’t care how out-of-control they feel in their own lives. I don’t care what their reasoning. Their own insecurities or inadequacies do not excuse being abusive towards me. I’m a nice guy and I deserve better than that crap. I don’t do that to others, and I refuse to let anybody do that to me ever again. Period!