The Blue Suitcase - Press Release

Audio File:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ycxwvc2dRrQ

The Blue Suitcase is set in South Africa, a most beautiful country marred by economic and political inequality. 

 In this biographical novel, the author chronicles life experiences of a young Samuel Levy whose persistent questioning and whimsical interpretations provides context to the unfolding drama.

The tragedies and abuse that clouded his young life fueled a determination to succeed in spite of unfairness.

Sam appears impervious and oblivious to challenges but remains magnetised to his sport and a quest to understand how he and Jane came to be.  The various situations encountered and overcome both within and outside legal boundaries contributed to shaping Sam’s interpretation and opinions about fairness. His resolute perseverance is a hallmark of the story.

Unnoticed triumphs and tragedies bind diverse groups of people as they sheltered, supported and encouraged Sam when he had nothing other than charm and presence. 

This entertaining and independent yet thoughtful story further unravels the already tainted veneer which masks current day South Africa.

-          The Blue Suitcase is a biographical novel, by CAS le Hane

To order your copy: http://www.austinmacauley.com/book/blue-suitcase

Blind People Can See

Part 2

BaldOpinion 12 c

08 May 2013

“Morning Cynthia”

“Morning…” is her soft reply. I have never understood what follows when she says morning; it is something though…, more than “morning.”  She mumbles. You see, I greet first because in my perceived simple mind it is “the small things that are important” – Tolstoi.

For the rest of the day we pass each other in the office, passages and in the garden. At lunch-time I step out, find her: “You can eat Cynthia”, to which she whispers a reply, “Yebo” followed by a softer sounding, “eat.” I’ve been trying to fatten Cynthia for the longest time. To be skinny must be how she is.

Weeks would go by and the same routine repeats.

One day though, and without thinking about it much; Cynthia and I were in the kitchen when I asked, “What do you think of President Nelson Mandela – Madiba?”

“I love Madiba” was her quick, loud and very decisive reply.

That reply was not what I expected. Prior to this I’ve not heard Cynthia speak that loudly.

On returning to the office there was a feeling, one not dissimilar to embarrassment – it was my thoughts, perhaps also my negative expectation.  See, I expected Cynthia to mumble, “Madiba…” rather than be so definite.

Though they hail from the same region Cynthia has never met Madiba and; though they share the same language and traditions, Cynthia never saw Madiba in the flesh - for when Cynthia was a girl Madiba was in jail.

Madiba is not a hero to Cynthia.  He is more - he informs her sense of pride.  Do we need a reason to be proud though, or is it our pride, the self-worth, that shapes our destiny? This is a big question.  This article is riddled with big questions.

We need jobs and a purpose in order to earn dignity. We also need pride, to emulate and; we want inspiration so that we can always do better.

To some Madiba is a role model, a mentor. People want to be like him - forgive, and believe that we are at peace with the past.  “Without peace you cannot enjoy the future” – Nelson Mandela.

•         Can one be a mentor to others without ever meeting;
•         maybe I conflate mentorship with people who are role models;
•         are mentors not invariable role models too?

The Greek anthology of mythical characters includes one named Mentor. It is said that Athena used the decoy of Mentor as a disguise to hide herself from the suitors of Telemachus' mother, Penelope. Why, I wonder?

Yes, they were a bit odd, but the character of Mentor and modern day mentoring is derived from the Greek character reference that represents the sharing of wisdom.

Does one need an interpersonal relationship in order to share wisdom?

What is a teacher then?

Is a teacher one who shows how something is done and coaches to near perfection?

How do we learn to think, I again wonder, and; do teachers teach us to reason instead of to think? How does the ability to reason inform the way we learn to think? This is woo-woo stuff to me and as a result I have no answers. I was at university for too long, but I never studied psychology.

Some say that we go to school in order to learn thinking skills. Others claim that we need only be alive in order to acquire thinking ability, but the majority feels that we go to school in order to get information. My view is that thinking evolves as determined by how much you challenge yourself – the sense of dignity and pride (= class) too have a role to play. 

Organisations, businesses – everything becomes different all the time.  The reason for change is determined by factors that we have no direct control over. When there is no longer a demand for pairs of black shorts, then those who manufacture will be out of business if they continue to produce only this item. The producers have to diversify in order to meet and create new demand.

Leadership therefor includes having the foresight to change before it becomes an inevitable requirement.

“Create a new demand, or become extinct.”

In order to harness opportunities rapid change is required.  Breaking away from the past / accelerated difference / transformation / a revolution, these are labels we attribute to conditions that result in doing things differently quickly. 

The other day, whilst tagging along in a curios shop, I read a notice: “Unaccompanied children will be given an espresso and a puppy!”

If the usual plan, notice, or warning is no longer effective then get one that attracts better attention.

Don’t take too long to introduce difference, but also note that haste is very often the reason why new approaches fail. The reality is not only about white or black, but more about grey.

Frequently we use fashionable phrases instead of those that say what we really mean.  Words have differing connotations to those who hear, compared to those who speak them.

The creation and application of rules serve to pre-determine how we behave.  If we want to change behaviour then we have to create and apply different rules. In business we constantly prepare to meet the demands of ever changing global expectations. We try to do so without losing our identity.

In one instance we use supply chain management tools in order to make businesses more effective and sustainable. Supply chain techniques are derived from a series of wisdom imparting initiatives. A history of best practice is contributed to by experience. Supply Chain Management is therefore a combination of wisdom imparting mentoring - together with practical strategies to implement and coach / teach. That is one way of attaining the illusive best practice. Others use more elaborate words to define, but is it understood and; is this definition understood?

Some old ideas and experiences do not flow today as they did yesterday.  The answer resides in the act of leadership. Each person is a leader – each therefore has an obligation to understand how past experience can influence the decisions we take today. I refer to this ability by coining the phrase “lateralism” - but there is no term like that in the dictionary!

No worries, someday I shall write a Cape based dictionary. It will probably be banned, but shall contain a number of very interesting new words.

As a boy I was very fond of Dorothy Smith. I had five aunts. Each aunt presented differently. My Aunt Martha could knit the most complex embossed cable-stitch garments; she taught me too. I must be one of a few bald men who can knit - image that!

My Aunt Dotty though, she smoked Lexington cigarettes and had a pellet gun. Back then, like now, it was okay for adults to do stupid things. The Lexington advert - “…After Action Satisfaction, Lexington, That’s The One!” Maybe that is why she had need for a pellet gun http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TzUArvNm_u0

Well, during my early formative years I often would sit on my adopted Aunt’s knee. It was okay; she did not feel my weight, for all five my aunts were paraplegics.

There was a series on the radio each weekday afternoon. Springbok Radio was a national radio station in South Africa when I was a boy. My Aunt Dotty had a transistor radio. The PM 10 battery was bigger than the radio it powered. At three fifteen, all five my aunts would park their chairs in a tight circle formation around a little coffee table.  The radio sat on the table. Their formation resembled a rugby scrum as they sat poised to get the next installment of the radio story.  I could never understand. It was too complicated. Yet, my Aunts were excitable and Aunty Dotty gave advice to those radio people when she disagreed with the direction the story was headed.  Something must have happened, or was about to happen, I’d think; or maybe the plot finally unraveled?

At a quarter to four my aunts debriefed each other about the radio story.  The way they spoke, sounded like these radio people were coming to dine with us that night. “I best bath first. Wheelchair people spend a long time in a bathroom. I never had shoes, but I could hide my feet under the table and sit quietly, then the radio people wouldn’t know”, were among my thoughts.

Jet Jungle followed, or a radio series named “Hospitaal Tyd” (Hospital Time) presented by Esme and Jan. I could not understand that either - on discovering my lack of comprehension Aunty Dotty took to storytelling.  The vibrato of her Lexington voice had a timber, an almost baritone sound when she spoke, but her stories… they taught me to think, I think.

Some years later and I could no longer fit on her knee.  In any event, by then Pettles, the staffie, would growl when I came near that wheelchair.

Much later and I was a factory worker at an electro-plating plant in Voortrekker Road, Salt River.  I bought a car. At the time my Aunt was convalescing in the Conradie Orthopedic Hospital, Thornton, near Pinelands in Cape Town, South Africa.  I visited to show her my first car. It was an old car, but it was my first and I felt like sharing it with Aunty.  I parked opposite the water towers outside the hospital ward where she was in traction. Inside, with the help of the nursing staff, we strategically arranged mirrors so that Aunty Dot could see my new wheels. She approved, “That’s a nice car my Boy, congratulations.” 

By then the Lexington and pellet gun had long gone and the wireless was replaced with a TV. The stories though, no… they had not left. That night Aunty Dot moved the four fingers on her right hand in a familiar gesture. It meant, “Come hither and sit up.” I knew it was story-time! Even then, I continued to get excited, like the Aunties did when they scrummed around the Springbok Radio:

“You know Boy,” she started “there’s a constant battle inside all of us.” I nodded whilst she continued. ” The battle is between two wolves.

One wolf is Evil - It presents as anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.” Then she paused – long enough for me to take it all in.

“The other wolf is The Spirit - It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.”

All the while I sat alongside her on the hospital bed waiting for the conclusion and wondering how my Aunt, who did not have much schooling, how she could remember all those big words – I knew that Aunty Dot always had a curious turn of phrase and she’d wish for the pellet gun should I interrupt. This night though, it was a Maundy Thursday night, I remember - the night before Good Friday.  Aunty Dotty did not look good.  It could have been her last, I thought. I held her hand and caressed her set hair.

Eventually I said, “Aunty, those battling wolves inside all of us, which of the two wins?”

“The one you feed..."

Aunty Dotty is no more, but I remember.  I remember the hours spent playing table tennis, basketball, many other board games, particularly during the winter when it rained like it does in Cape Town. She taught me to ride a wheelchair like few can. “We can listen to music”, she would say – the Beatles, Elvis, but Jim Reeves was her favorite. “Jim Grieves” she would say – “his songs are always sad!”

‘These were a few of her favourite things…’ and I thought that as this is my last BaldOpinion article that I should share her with you.  Aunty Dot loved The Sound of Music and together we watched the film screening down at the De Novo Community Hall many times over.  Afterwards I’d push and sing my way down the dirt road to the worker house we lived in near Stellenbosch. Neither of us knew the lyrics much, but it did not seem to matter, for the journey was always too short.

However, when mentoring and coaching happens at work how do we determine whether the imparted ideas / methods are current and relevant to the challenges today in preparation for tomorrow?

What about learning to think, or does this ability dawn when we look at the world through the filter of our own experiences – our literalism? Does coaching and mentoring lend itself to innovation and is innovation the serum applied when preparing for tomorrow? 

  

I think that swimming pools can become self-sustaining. It can generate its own electricity; clean and self-heat. Spurred on by my own excitement I tore out to meet engineers and tell my story. After all, why would you want to consult a dentist if you have a heart condition?

After listening to my story the engineers laughed.  When the laughter subsided and, after straightening his back against the rest of the chair one engineer rubbed his chest and said, “Great idea, but it won’t work.”

I gathered myself and smiled politely. One can catch more bees with honey than with vinegar, I thought, whilst nurturing the Cape Flats in me who needed to present.  After shaking hands my car radio and I drove back home.

Some day we will wonder why this simple method of water reticulation was never applied. Today they laugh.  Engineers laugh at the prospect of creating newness.  Here’s my thought - this laughter stems from never having been taught to think.  To understand is not a demonstration of thought. It is about how you apply your understanding.

Experience too cannot be taught.

Who says that we cannot ask what the better solution is?

From time to time we make plans and develop strategies.  Sometimes we fail. If we make the plan then it is not the plan that fails, it’s us – one way to earn experience.

Maybe we should learn to think differently and to utilise our experience so that we can learn how to share it with others.  We have to develop an ability to understand what is relevant and what is not. Leadership must include the act of stepping back, or to stand on the proverbial balcony, look around, ahead and then at the present with informed eyes.  The past is old hat. This is a discipline that each should convert into a habit and apply regularly - directional insight.

Fast-tracking is the root of many evil.  There is no short-cut to competence.  Recently South African Airways sent five fast-tracked aircraft technicians for training in Vienna.  They returned, all having failed.  Why, well, because they lack technical basics. When compared with their fellow students they paled. 

Ok, maybe my use of the term pale is a bit naughty! Of course, on their return it is proclaimed that the Viennese are racists. How bizarre.

By 2014 the bastard, Natural Attrition, is set to claim 300 qualified and competent aircraft technicians when they retire.

Increasingly we live in an instant society. We pour from a bottle and order via the internet. We transpose this reality to impact also on how we skill people. We fast-track and this is the order of today. We forget that short-term gains result in long term losses. Who do we blame when business sustainability dwindles – the Viennese, of course, who else?

Certain leaders of corporate transformation have become business legends. Companies that consistently transform before a crisis achieve unprecedented competitive power and advantage. The consistency of change is an important realisation. Pride in every initiative is an essential ingredient. Set aside enough time for plans to be realised. Outsized returns are frequently a misguided objective when long term goals are exchanged for short term gains.

The leaders of companies in crisis are best placed to consistently create new direction. David Simon and John Browne could transform British Petroleum (BP) from one of Britain's weakest industrials to a world force. After the recent incidents on the American west coast BP again faced imminent ruin.  

Steve Jobs rescued Apple from certain collapse. Had Apple not been in crisis would the recovery have been this successful? At the time of writing Apple again faces similar strife.  Will it survive this time?

Most transformations undertaken when crisis conditions are not evident fail because of poor leadership. Where there is no pressing need for change new plans are often neglected and later abandoned. Such companies are worse off than before. 

When things are going well business leaders become reluctant to undertake transformation programmes - even though they know that failure to act may condemn the company to a slow decline and eventual collapse.  There is need for constant change, but leaders fear the introduction of difference.   “Why…” they say “must I fix something that is not broken - work harder.”   By the way, it is a myth that we have to work smart and not hard because there is no substitute for hard work.

Maybe we should introduce change as a form of maintenance.  People fear change, but are only irritated by the discomfort of maintenance.  Irritation is better than fear, but “Where there is no pain there will be no gain”, said Joe Weider of Gold’s Gym. Regular maintenance makes radical change organic.

Maintenance is an enabler. We don’t fear maintenance as much as we do change.

Change tampers with routine and it is unsettling.

Madiba said that routine was a coping tool he applied whilst in prison.

Oh, and I sang for Cynthia before Christmas – I chose the descant, a tempo of four beats to the bar and a swing from the note C. Like me, Cynthia would have none other than the swing sound to bring on festive cheer:

“… he sent you to give the good news to the poor,

tell prisoners that they are prisoners no more,

tell blind people that they can see and set the downtrodden free…,”

By the time I had finished Cynthia stood aside and just looked at me with glassy eyes. I also do not understand how singing works.  It creates a mood.  Like there’s a God in your throat. The taught me and tell me; they illustrate and explain, but yet I cannot understand how the sound is produced.

Nonetheless, Cynthia wore a happy wonder expression on her simple, yet beautiful older face and I was taken by the moment when she softly said, “sing nice.”

Aunty Dotty Said that my car was nice and Cynthia says that I sing nice. It feels good to be nice. Like the song I sang is Idyllic, so too I wish that I can always be nice.  

Then we wished each other a merry festive season, hugged and off she went to make the Christmas journey from Daveyton to Mvezo in the Eastern Cape, a province of South Africa.

Thank you all for reading the BaldOpinion.  It was a wonderful journey. We laughed, we cried and we had music that some enjoyed. Thank you for allowing me to use many of your ideas. From all the thousands of readers out there, if one has grown then the series was worth the effort. Thank you for the opportunity.

Good Bye.

Oh...! And I sang for her at Christmas-time

 Baldopinion 12 (b)

15 February 2013

PART 1

Cynthia is an ordinary woman – slim, delicate and she has class.

On occasion I worked in Windhoek, the inland capital city of Namibia.  I was a boy in a vast country consumed by the Namib Desert.  Out there on the southwestern coast of Africa - the dry red land presupposes nothingness.  People said that on arrival they cried, but when they left, they cry again – they were right. The land is captivating; a land of two cries.

Namibia reclaimed its independence from South Africa on 21 March 1990. I was a boy before then. 

I think back and giggle because of the stories informed by my experiences. Those stories won’t flow here though, save for the one about the family who granted me lodging.

I worked in the Performing Arts Industry then and our calls (when we started work) were from four in the afternoon.

There was a bed and room for my tools in the Schmidt family home. We lived in Khomasdal.

Khomasdal is derived from the name given to the escarpment of that area. Next door is the Township, Katatura. There was an infamous worker compound in Katatura. These days the same venue is a shopping mall.

About 6kms / 4miles away was the theatre where I worked. It was during the time of social revolution and the worker compound was being unbundled. The building structure provided many with doors, roofing material and window frames. On a Saturday morning I watched people carve away at the red brick walls in order to re-use the bricks. The entire experience was one catalyst for my interest in employment law. Years later the study and practice of employment law became my subsequent profession.

Mary-Hope was the youngest daughter in the Schmidt family home.  She was born with a Down-Syndrome condition.  Mary-Hope must have been about seven years old at the time. She was tactile and loving to a point of irritation.

Her parents came to the room where I was working. Mary-Hope was sitting atop the piano. She had already messed up my drawing board – it was their turn with her and I was happy…

Her father is a gentle, tolerant man. He had a face-defining protrusion to the left side on his forehead. The bump was accentuated by the baldness of his pate.

After Mary-Hope was lifted off the piano her father led her down the hallway to the adjacent room. They spoke another language. I overheard as he said, “Mary-Hope was sent to teach me patience.” Those words so impacted me that today, nearing 30 years later, when I come across people who present with this condition, then I am reminded to be patient.

There was a car ahead of me the other day. It wore a bumper sticker: “My Child Has More Chromosomes than Yours.”

Cynthia, on the other hand, she teaches me humility. In the famous biography, Long Walk to Freedom, President Mandela describes people like Cynthia by use of the term peasant.

President Mandela also used the term coloured to define people who present with a genealogy that includes a fair-skinned ancestor.

In South Africa we claim to be non-racist. When we speak and in our laws it reflects that we subscribe to multi-racialism.  We perpetuate the divisive terms used to lineate people into groups based on their skin-tones.  This principle was a cornerstone of Apartheid.  The institutionalised social structure resulted in fair-skinned people receiving privileges. The privileges decreased for those with darker skins. We know what that intitutionalised social structuring resulted in. Why then do we remain quiet, even subscribe, as we perpetuate the determinant of skin-tone-lineage. This happens today under the guise of correcting the past. It feels more like tit for tat to me. Is this in the best interest of the country?

Public speakers and the different laws have a responsibility to use and apply terms that are consistent with non-racism. We should desist from conflating non-racist intent by using multi-racist talk.  Multi-racism stems from when people are classified into different race groups.  In the South African context the determinant was and remains skin colour, save for people of Indian origin. Non-racism is in theory what we subscribe to. In my view this theory will only come to life when people are afforded the right to soar based on their inherent ability and potential. Education, housing and sustainable job-creation are what we should focus on.  Instead, we deploy expensive resources to correct social occurrences of the past. More people are unemployed than ever before. Informal housing is a sprawling reality. Our education system is embarrassing and suppresses the vocational work done by a small number of exceptionally committed teachers.

Recently, whilst in conversation with an Australian friend, I asked “… and what are you doing about the Abo’s on those reserves in Australia?”  

I was severely reprimanded. 

“That is a derogatory term, one that we do not use,” came the crisp reply at the cusp of a lot more.

Realising my error and in an attempt to save face I seemingly made it worse – I should have known better, me – after all, I know how it feels.  What is said cannot be unsaid.

“… no, the correct term is Aboriginal. Use it because that is the collective noun the indigenous people of Australia refer to themselves by.”  I continued to be embarrassed, but the lesson was well learned, the hard way…

During my theatre years there was an occasion when I worked in Montreal, Canada.  I was introduced as a native of Cape Town, South Africa. It felt strange to be a native.

When I was a younger native growing up in the most beautiful city of the world, pretentious people, when speaking, referred to those with dark skins… “They, the Natives…”

I remember thinking with my child brain… “Ma has a darker skin than the noisy milkman. Is she a native too…? Though Ma can’t whistle like him.”

Why did I have to go to Montreal in order to be a native of Cape Town?

Unlike in Australia, where I learned that for each name there is a shortened version, or that is what I thought until the discussion I referred to earlier. At one stage I spoke at a conference in Melbourne, in the State of Victoria, Australia. I asked to introduce myself because I could identify many South Africans seated in the huge auditorium. For them to hear that I was a native would be unsettling. After all, most of them left because there are too many natives in South Africa.

A corpulent fellow, flanked by two seemingly attractive women was seated in the front row. I was sure that he was South African.  Mr. Charming could not contain himself when informed that Cape Town was the seat of my soul. His whisper was audible from the podium where I stood in the Melbourne Crown Plaza. He whispered to the women, “All men in Cape Town are GAY.” I overheard, paused, and told the audience what he had said. The laughter was slight, not like after I asked him, “How do you know…?” 

Cynthia though, is a woman of few words and huge integrity. She’s been arriving for work at 08h00 four days per week over the longest time. Cynthia struggles with English.

“Where’s my black shorts. That cotton one,” I would say. In responding she would mumble, “Shorts”

“Yes, the one that hides my knock knees…”

… And again she would mumble “…knock knees”

I shall tell more about Cynthia in Part 2

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hk3mAX5xdxo

Ballet Dancers Moonlight as Wrestlers

BaldOpinion 12(a)

Managing before the crisis:

Clarie arrived as a pup.  Her temperament is one of friendship – too much, but I learn that to have a good friend I have to be a good friend first. Clarie follows in a line of other dogs, Lampo, Boris, Bess, Foxil the 1st, Capone, Rocky and the more recently expired, Fancy Nancy.

Seven years ago Clarie’s nose was dry. Her tail would not wag. Her look was of sadness.  

’Where’s your ball Clarie?’ 

There was no exuberance.

‘Garbage Disease’ - that is what the Vet said. The puppy had Garbage Disease.

‘If you put rubbish in then you’ll get rubbish out’, so said Mr Williams – alas, I here sanitise the language he usedJ.

Mr Williams wore short sleeved check shirts and a tie that ended with a broad flair, like a bib. He had big forearms, many stories about rugby and; and his four front teeth were missing!  No matter what this teacher said the posture in his tone made one forget to disagree.  This Williams taught English, but did so using another very different language. When I complained to my mother her response was: ‘Concentrate and learn to speak English.’  

When she walked back into the consulting room I overheard her grumble:

‘You children should be grateful; after all you get two for the price of one.’ 

How do you take precaution against assimilating rubbish or; are you partial to the way Peter Block responds when he says “The Answer to How is Yes?”

Part One – of Three 

Here I broadly discuss employment, but much detail is omitted because the intention is to create a foundation for later discussions.  I am to tread on a number of proverbial toes, but my intentions are not malicious.

This is a rewrite for those who may have read my earlier writing, “Change is Permanent”.  The consternation then was almost comparable to “We Demand a Living Wage”!  Maybe this time I’ve caught up and am on the same page, singing off the same sheet as others:

When I was a boy my football friends went to church on a Sunday. I would accompany them. It was difficult to play football alone and to dribble against a dog served only to puncture my foot. No matter whether my football friends were Catholic, Anglican, or members of other Protestant faiths, the constant at the church was always a shrill voiced woman leading the singing – from the front I’ll have you know.  She would sing way ahead of the others. So far that a fellow footballer, after noticing my perplexed look, he leaned over and whispered, ‘That woman is in a hurry. She has a Sunday roast is in the oven and a match to referee this afternoon!’  

These up-tempo descant singing church women with roasts in the oven would bother me for a number of years.  The same bother was about the man in the front whom people referred to as Pastor and Father. He wore different garments in most every church I visited.  In my boy mind I knew that if I attend often enough then someday I shall understand what the front man was saying.

On a certain Sunday the man spoke about children. He spoke about parents who were previously married to other partners and; also about children who were born to parents who were not married to each other. I understood that, but he made it seem that we children were lesser than the others…

Sometimes we apply to be appointed against a job that we feel more than suited for. Receiving the regret letter, a standard letter, is a devastating feeling.  ‘It prepares you for life’ says that mother. If it is preparing me then why is it that I feel lesser when this happens?

Let’s examine the selection and recruitment processes applied in the world of work.  I draw against criteria that do not add to growth within business.

The purpose of recruitment is the identification of people who have ability, potential, passion and an inherent interest to become better at whatever it is they do.

All too frequently people are recruited because they are liked and less because they sport ability, growth potential, passion, talent and insight.  We choose people for appointment against certain positions because they suit our paradigm. We frequently disregard results drawn from achievement tests and; we forget that the position we seek to fill was created by the business, often a very long time ago.

When the Company is compliant with what is described as the minimum requirements in Equity Legislation then seemingly all is in order. Where fines are imposed for non-compliance Companies increasingly opt to pay instead of comply. No different to the ‘wild cat strike’ (where employees withdraw their labour without following the set procedure. In most countries this is a criminal act, and participants are frequently dismissed, but not in South Africa.)

Prior to and during the interview we observe and test for aptitude, gender, creed and many more. Do we test for whether the candidate is the best at doing the job and; whether such person is able to contribute to growth of the business? Surely, we want to build successful businesses and provide sustainable employment? Instead people are employed because they suit our paradigm and allow us to comply with the minimum requirement stipulated in the relevant Equity Act.

Is academic qualification an accurate measuring instrument; more so than experience?    

The concern about personal weakness is over-rated.  Most people only possess between 75% and 85% of the skill mix stipulated in the Company job description.

Jobs that are structured to suit the incumbents’ ability, passion and talents make weakness irrelevant. Jobs created by the Company should be fluid and selection processes should gear toward the appointment of people who can best contribute to building the business.

What if job descriptions are changed to contain only those tasks that the incumbent is good at; what if tasks are reallocated to those who have greater ability where there is deficiency and; what if jobs are more regularly scored in order to determine parity reward?

 'All the ballet dancers in the National Ballet Corps moonlight as wrestlers', so says Suleiman Hendricks, a theatrical lighting operator who is known for using hyperbole.   

Much truth is spoken in jest (Geoffrey Chaucer – 1390).  When the accountant is not a good salesman and; when the salesman is not a good accountant – why are we surprised?

Employees are not assets in the business. Only good employees are assets. Bad employees are a catastrophic liability. Williams would have been more descriptive!

The selection mechanism determines whether persons are attracted and subsequently employed. The selection process prioritises criteria in order to identify the best candidate. Selection panels are dictated to by law to interview and appoint from a pool of people who were, for political and customary reasons, excluded from certain employment bands. 

Why not search for the better talent and grow the business so that it can incubate for the future in a manner that is discriminatory only about ability and effort? The education system in South Africa is failing the people.  People are not being sufficiently prepared for the world of work – all the more reason why development at work is essential.

Experience has to be earned.

Create opportunity to harvest from a yield of proven/identified ability; create attainable aspiration within the business and; encourage the demise of entitlement.

Is it right to prevent ability and potential from having access to opportunity; particularly if opportunity is reserved for those who were wronged in the past and; is often at the expense of the better candidate.    

What can be done to fix the past and; what can be done to grow better future businesses, so that more people can have jobs with which to earn dignity?

To legislate who should be employed is defeatist. The selection mechanism should be defensible against and defined in legislation. Legislation should not be punitive to the appointment of talent and the best candidate. Skin-tone and the past are not going to build future businesses and create jobs - ability, talent, passion and opportunity for the better candidate will. 

It is important to reflect the demographics throughout the tiers of employment bands, but it should not be at the expense of ability and talent.  Selecting employees because they are/were recipients of negative discrimination will further stunt personal growth – ‘Those punch above their weight!’ says Williams

The role of the business includes supporting employees. People need affirmation as a form of and support.

Imagine, Abbe Zimmerman became fed-up with the noise; dropped his newspaper, removed his spectacles and in frustration shouted:

‘… For heaven’s sake, Robert! Put that there guitar away and stop singing that Knock, Knock, Heaven Door, thing, over and bloody over!

When is it enough!

Your voice, it, is monotone and, and irritating! ...’   Williams would have said it better.

However, had Mr Zimmerman consistently said this to Bob then the world would have been denied the incalculable musical influence Bob Dylan continues to exert on popular music?

There are times when judgement is rubbished by reality; … but how can we avoid garbage disease?

Businesses and organisations are the custodians of jobs for all who work.  

We have no choice, but to constantly seek a marriage between judgement and reality. Leadership is the ability to balance circumstance.

Conflict on the other hand, need not be negative.  The employer-employee relationship will always be one of conflict.  Leftover feelings following a bloody / bruising strike are more important than the act of flexing industrial muscle.  Is industrial action necessary; is it the only solution; has its time passed and; what are the alternatives?  My reference here is not limited to employees.

We want leadership to engender positive conflict. People who work want to celebrate their workplaces.  We want to be happy and enjoy the journey of growth without exploitation and disrespect.  

To hanker after, or fain blindness when we fail to facilitate the convergence of judgement with reality is a travesty. No employer or employee can dance alone.

In this context the guarding against paternalism is a puerile argument. We have to do whatever it takes so that people who have the best ability are attracted, identified, appointed and nurtured. Anything lesser shall serve to tamper with the custodial obligation employers have toward the jobs against which those who work are appointed.  Sustainable businesses and perpetual growth shall only occur upon solid defensible foundations and where nurturing for excellence is the left over feeling.  

Business has a responsibility to provide sustainable jobs – hold business leaders accountable. To strive for equity as determined by skin-tone and an unjust past whilst unemployment soars and sustainability of employment decreases is not constructive. Each one has to teach one, but such teaching must vest on a solid, sound and growing platform, failing which teaching shall continue to be a vacuum exercise.

When all is said and done go on, have a listen, enjoy –

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o2mhdidocTM