Spring Break
Authoritative position shows the complexity of human nature
Rachel Spitler
Issue date: 4/10/09 Section: Forum
Last summer, while walking outside my apartment complex, I had the pleasure of a brief acquaintance with a small, friendly tabby cat.
She meowed enthusiastically when I passed by, so of course I stopped to pet her and listen to her purr. After a few moments, the nearest door opened, and my neighbor paused there, startled and a little worried-looking.
"Hey," I said cheerfully, stroking the soft little ears. "Is this your cat?"
"No," said my neighbor quickly, and shut the door again.
That settled, I walked on. By this time, I had been the apartment manager for almost two years - long enough not only to know that it most definitely was his cat, but to have long since stopped being offended by dishonesty.
In the six months since I've moved and gone back to being just an ordinary tenant myself, that moment has stayed with me. It's certainly not the craziest lie I was told during my stint as an authority figure, nor was bringing cats into the apartment even close to the worst rule anyone broke, but still, that small exchange kind of sums up the whole experience.
I've always thought that the reason everyone is encouraged to seek "leadership opportunities" had something to do with improving your self-confidence and job skills, but if any of that happened, it was too subtle for me to notice. What I did learn was a few things about human nature, things no class or book could have taught me quite so well. And all I had to do was hold a particular job.
The first thing I learned, as suggested above, is that people are sneaky.
I was surprised by this early on, and my idealism was a little injured. I had always na'vely assumed that everyone more or less tries to follow the rules, but not so. People were constantly trying to get stuff past me, from pets to drugs to felony convictions.
This stopped being distressing when it started being funny.
Just so you know, your contraband feline absolutely will betray you, and if he can't do it by getting outside, he'll sit in your window. If you somehow manage to keep your dog from barking, and if you somehow manage to keep her inside for your entire tenancy, you'll still be doomed the instant we send in the carpet cleaners.
She meowed enthusiastically when I passed by, so of course I stopped to pet her and listen to her purr. After a few moments, the nearest door opened, and my neighbor paused there, startled and a little worried-looking.
"Hey," I said cheerfully, stroking the soft little ears. "Is this your cat?"
"No," said my neighbor quickly, and shut the door again.
That settled, I walked on. By this time, I had been the apartment manager for almost two years - long enough not only to know that it most definitely was his cat, but to have long since stopped being offended by dishonesty.
In the six months since I've moved and gone back to being just an ordinary tenant myself, that moment has stayed with me. It's certainly not the craziest lie I was told during my stint as an authority figure, nor was bringing cats into the apartment even close to the worst rule anyone broke, but still, that small exchange kind of sums up the whole experience.
I've always thought that the reason everyone is encouraged to seek "leadership opportunities" had something to do with improving your self-confidence and job skills, but if any of that happened, it was too subtle for me to notice. What I did learn was a few things about human nature, things no class or book could have taught me quite so well. And all I had to do was hold a particular job.
The first thing I learned, as suggested above, is that people are sneaky.
I was surprised by this early on, and my idealism was a little injured. I had always na'vely assumed that everyone more or less tries to follow the rules, but not so. People were constantly trying to get stuff past me, from pets to drugs to felony convictions.
This stopped being distressing when it started being funny.
Just so you know, your contraband feline absolutely will betray you, and if he can't do it by getting outside, he'll sit in your window. If you somehow manage to keep your dog from barking, and if you somehow manage to keep her inside for your entire tenancy, you'll still be doomed the instant we send in the carpet cleaners.
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