As the May 9 election date closes in on us, it is a good time to reflect on our own first job experiences.
In my case, a Grade 12 summer job found me working in the stores department of a large trucking company. As the victim of a classical academic high-school preparation, I quickly learned that the expectations of those with and for whom I worked were more practical than theoretical.
The first burly truck mechanic who came to the stores counter and asked for a dozen SAE 1/2-20 bolts found that I had no idea what that was. Neither my knowledge of Book 6 of Virgil’s Aeneid, nor my understanding of algebraic binomial theorem and calculus derivatives ,were any help at all.
It became, over that summer, a steep learning curve before I understood the difference between SAE and metric hardware.
My immediate supervisor, although a kindly man, was clear that I’d better get my head out of the clouds and get this stuff down or I’d be back on the beach for the summer, jobless.
Later, during university vacations, I worked as a window cleaner — commercial and industrial. Again, I quickly learned that my fellow window cleaners, men who did this for a living, took window-cleaning seriously, and I had better pay attention to the edges and the corners as they showed me. A clean window was a clean window — nothing less, and something in which to take pride.
Moonlighting during those years as a dance-band musician, I learned that the expectation was not about “talking a good game” but whether, once the music arrangements were on the music stand in front of me, I could play them or not.
Based on that kind of formative job experience, I wonder how we can demand of our aspiring political representatives: “Can you do this job or not?” “What evidence can you provide that you are willing to get down to it quickly, learn what you need to know and get the job done for us with as little fanfare as possible?”
I’d like to be able to say: “Here is what the job entails — we don’t want to hear from you, read about you or see your picture in the paper until you can provide observable evidence that you have done, or are well into the process of doing, what you said you could do.”
In my later career, I found myself interviewing candidates for teaching positions, school-based administrative jobs and district leadership assignments. Different roles in public education, but my basic question was always the same: “Five years from now, what will have improved in your school or your administrative area because we chose you for the job? Please be specific about what you will bring to us that we don’t have now or that other candidates will not bring. Be aware that you will be asked to provide occasional updates on the specifics of your progress.”
Yet we vote for our political representatives only to find that having elected them to represent the interests of the community (the employer, if you will), they are back to us in no time representing the interests of their political party on behalf of who-knows-what interests.
Yet we tend to accept the non-fulfilment of vague, unsubstantiated political promises, from those seeking a first political job or even a second.
So, here it is — a list of three modest suggestions from those in the working world for those seeking public office.
First, show us some evidence of what you have already accomplished that has measurably improved the situation in your own community.
Second, let’s pretend that seeking election is a job application. What will you accomplish over the next four years, not only on behalf of those who voted for you, but also on behalf of those who did not?
Third, commit to frequent updates on your job progress, just as we expect our kids in school to be ready for a spot quiz — we know you are involved in a learning process, but we need to see evidence that you are actually learning.
Other than that, once you have the job, please just get on with it.
Geoff Johnson is a retired superintendent of schools.
