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Word Purge

The meeting took place in the big conference room, the one down the hall from the offices and cubicle farms. The one used for the important stuff. Big meetings with big decision makers.

There was a buzz of anticipation, lots of discussing what this was all about. The department heads and team leaders were all here, seated around the long rectangular table. The chair at the head of the table was empty.

Wilson was to my right, obsessively checking his phone and mumbling as he did. 

“I can’t believe this,” he said. “Not word one, not even a guess about what’s going on.”

Wilson had good sources, deep sources in the company. If they were quiet, it was probably a big deal. The type of thing only a select few knew about.

The door opened and in walked Susan, head of Human Resources. She wore the serious look of women who go by Susan and not Sue. Layered over her default look was another coat of seriousness, her game face. Tension oozed from her as she entered and sat down at the head of the table. 

The room quieted down and she opened her laptop. The screen at the other end of the room flickered to life.

“No one is to discuss any of this with anyone until it becomes official company policy, is that clear?” she asked. 

Lots of nods and even an “of course,” from Andy. The man couldn’t help himself. Open the door to an ass-kissing opportunity and he’d trip you to get in first.

“Good,” Susan said. “You all have no doubt seen or read the news stories of late on cities, towns and municipalities eliminating gender-specific language.”

Lots of nods, Andy’s was a bit more aggressive than needed. I had no idea what Susan was talking about.

“Well, the board of directors has charged me with undertaking a similar effort here at corporate to look at every aspect of our internal communication, and external messaging for opportunities to eliminate gender-specific, offensive and exclusionary language,” she said.

She hit a key on her laptop and her PowerPoint deck came to life on the screen. The first slide was titled, “Chasing out Exclusionary Language.” Below the title were two cartoonish characters,  one, a young woman in what passed for corporate attire wielding a club and grimacing as she chased an older man in a pinstriped suit.

I strained my eyes and tested my peripheral vision by trying to glance at Wilson to my side. He was fixated on the screen. 

“Let’s open the floor for examples of where we can do better here at corporate,” Susan said. “Just throw them out there and we’ll gather as many examples as we can. This is only the first of many meetings, so there will be plenty of opportunities to add to the list.”

It didn’t take long for the sharks to swim to the chum.

“I saw the story on that city dropping the use of ‘manhole,’ ” a guy said from the other side of the table. “It’s amazing such offensive language is still being used.”

Lots of grave nods and murmurs. 

“It’s being replaced by ‘maintenance hole,” Andy said, letting us know he was going to be an active participant. “And no more ‘man-made’ in some places. It’s ‘human-made.’ “

“We should do the same,” Wilson said. 

I felt left out, and was grasping for something, anything to add.

“Do we have any manholes here in the building?” I asked.

The room went silent, the murmuring ceased. I was getting the ‘what an idiot’ stare from Andy and the rest of the group. Wilson edged his chair away from me. Susan was looking at me like she was deciding on whether to ask me to leave.

I needed to turn this thing around, and fast. 

“I mean, figuratively, of course. I know we don’t have any actual manholes,” I said. “But I also know we have plenty of ‘manholes,’ if you know what I mean. Little phrases, descriptions, words, maybe even syllables that are offensive.”

Susan gave a little nod, the wheels were spinning, she was working with me. No way I was going to give up the hard fought momentum I had won. I would rattle on full steam ahead. 

“And even if we have the tiniest of words that offend someone, well that’s one tiny word too many, so far as I’m concerned,” I said. 

I turned up the volume and motored ahead. 

“So let’s get in our utility trucks, if you will. Let’s get our hard hats on. And let’s find those manholes right here in this very building,” I said, rapping my knuckles on the table.

I had finished with a flourish and expected applause, maybe even an amen from someone. Instead, I got silence. A big old nothing. That was it, I was done, I figured. That was until Susan spoke up.

“I love it,” she said. “Love. It.”

Nods all around the table now. Wilson edged is chair back closer too mine and over did it. Our arms were touching now. Everyone wants a piece of a winner.

“As a matter of fact,” Susan said. “We are calling this whole undertaking, Project Manhole. I had been struggling with the right name, but this is just perfect.”

“Maybe we can work in teams, like the utility guys,” Andy said.

I looked at him with disgust in my eyes and shook my head. It was a pathetic attempt to grab a little glory for himself.

“You’re in charge of this initiative,” Susan said, pointing at me. “You have the foresight and vision to pull this off.”

“I do?” I asked.

“Yes, and you’re going to establish us as leader in this movement,” she said. “I want every other corporation in the country to be knocking on our door for advice on how to implement your findings.”

“My findings?”

“Yes, you’ll have plenty, I’m sure of it,” she said, getting up. “Take over here. Set up a workback plan and have it to me this afternoon for my approval.”

Susan left the room and everyone looked at me. There were smirks, and a few sympathetic looks. I had nothing to go on, but that never stopped me in the past. I took a breath and started.

“Let’s think about words that need changing around here, people. We don’t have any manholes, but you get the picture.”

Andy was the first to speak. I should have known he’d mount the first offensive. The first test of my newfound authority.

“That guy in customer support. We really need to do something about his name.”

“Guy in customer support?” I asked.

“Manuel,” Andy said. “ Man-uel. His name should be job one for you.”

(To be continued)

 

Published inFiction/Satire