Reasonable Accommodation Philosophy

I do reasonable accommodation with employees. Working on procedures for doing the work during this telework period. Here is my philosophy. I think it’s applicable to other walks of life. 

PHILOSOPHY:  As you work with people, remember there is no difference between you and the person on the other side of the table regardless of their presentation or history.  You could easily find yourself in need one day.  How would you want to be treated, heard, and respected?  Also, everyone is always watching: employees, supervisors, managers, and coworkers.  How you treat people ripples out to influence how you are perceived and whether your work is embraced and respected.

[Picture of me using wheelchair in marked disabled parking stall.]

April 10, 1978

In the last century, 42 years ago today, I entered employment with the state of Washington. How is that even possible?  I was 20.  There are things in life that are simply inconceivable.  Ronnie’s dad worked with the fed’s Housing and Urban Development for over 40 years in New York City. I don’t know the exact number.  I wish I did so I could know where I stand in the competition. He retired at 65.

When I started, employees smoked at their desks with ashtrays full.  We didn’t know sexual harassment was illegal.  Jimmy Carter was president.  IBM Selectrics were the most fabulous typewriters ever made.

I’m still hoping not to retire. I’ll pretend I’m a doctor, lawyer, or professor and keep my hand in because I’m a professional. We’ll see how that goes. In the meantime, feel free to celebrate 42 years with me.  I’m a dinosaur. At least, I can say I didn’t work for the profit motive. I’ve been lucky. 

I hope one day soon I can re-enter my physical workplace to resume torturing my coworkers by being a comedic ruffian if not the oldest, most senior state worker in the building. I’m attaching a picture of me, Ronnie, and Alex after just 12 years of state work. I had yet to get gray hair. 

Best to all. 

Joceile 

4.10.2020

Confessions of a Prankster

364 days a year, I am honest and forthright. Many call me a straight shooter. They’re misinformed as I’m a gay shooter. Regardless, I can be relied on to tell the truth during 99.9% of the year. (My math cannot be more specific.)

Annually, I plan for enjoying with relish that 365th day of the year when I can lie with abandon. I can fib, make up stories, and misrepresent myself intentionally, willy nilly without remorse. This is that day. A mere pandemic has wrecked my plans. 

Because I know we are all keyed up, subjected to unscrupulous, powerful people the other 364 days, I am volunteering to stand down. Please don’t take this as a generous action. I just don’t want to have my pranksterism spill beyond my 365th day. 

To honor this, I’ve dug up an old poem. It is written in the venerable Barbarian poetry style. 

April 1

This is the past voice from April one

You thought I’d forgot, you son of a gun.

This little poem is to tell you how

I so appreciate you, especially now.

When I need a little time to talk

You listen kindly and don’t tell me to walk.

We all have our meetings and quietly chuckle

Instead of crying and biting our knuckle.

So be happy and celebrate this very fine day

It’s exactly one month before the beginning of May.

Joceile

4/1/2004

Moore Barbarian poetry can be found at:  https://joceilemoore.blogspot.com/

[Don't blame me if your eyes bleed.]

[Picture of April 1 circled on calendar with cat and dog picture.]