| Seven
men working in a fluorescent-lit air-conditioned room – each
at his own desk with workbench. The men are younger than you’d
expect: 27, 24, 25, and so on. One is over 30, but still younger
than you’d expect. Their youth is apparent in the lightheartedness
of the conversation, the joking, the laughter. The air is so
relaxed, so free; one wonders that any work gets done here.
And yet remarkably it does. Are these men a special breed? Productive
despite (or because of) the unusual freedom? Or maybe it’s the
boss: instilling confidence and competence at every turn – with
scarcely a word. What is it that makes this place so special?
One wonders…
The
joking continues; the laughter, the bantering back and forth.
One of the men, quietly working and listening to the chatter,
smiles. They think he’s smiling at the cute remark someone
just made. But though they didn’t quite notice, it’s a different
smile this time.
He’s
worked at many jobs before and seen a lot of places. But somehow,
in this improbable location, he’s finally come to realize:
“I’m home.”
Lee A. Shurie
August 1984
|
