While musing the other day about the workd of work I discovered an amazing thing. If pursued to fill a job as an practicing anthropologist I’d say no. “Ahhh, come on Lou! You know how much you loved doing this!” Well it’s true, I did love doing it But I am, as a friend put it “I am just so done with that now.”
It was like a diet of junk food, after a bit you’ve had all you can take. It wasn’t the people in the communities that I studied, or developed the programs for. They were uniformly wonderful, great to work with, and the experiences were truly fulfilling.
Complete stop. Full new paragraph. Here it is. It was the agencies and people I had to work for. Talk about flies in the ointment. The idiots needed publicists to help justify the irritating, self-serving, and self-interested shit they pulled.
Me! My Friends and Me!
No, it wasn’t the bean counters. They were easy – keep track of the money, and stay within the law. It was the egocentric twits in the front office. Find a spot for my niece. Hire this band. Use my friends to do the research. Change the date not to conflict with my friends event. I didn’t like it that the mayor got top billing on the invites rather than me. Why are you always on about “those people” rather than mine? I think that gardening stuff is stupid. How about some nice classical music. Those craft people do lousy work. You are prejudiced for so and so. You are prejudiced against so and so.
That’s a partial litany. In my final job, I was less an anthropologist and more an interference blocker. I ran interference so my staff and contractors could do the job.
Still, I could almost… nope. There’s the little TV station, the carving, and writing for pleasure. I wouldn’t be a practicing anthropologist again. “I am just so done with that now.”
Amen. Thanks for letting me vent.
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Glad you have found such satisfaction in your woodworking. None of your former tasks sound like what I would imagine an anthropologist would do.
It’s OK. I’m not going to teach anyone anything ever again for many of the same reasons.
It’s not meant that way, Martha! the people I served were wonderful. The people I worked for were turds. After twenty-five or so years it wore out.
I get that! The people I worked for were turds, too! One of them got mad at me because I couldn’t present at his conference and pushed me up against the wall in the department office. I really COULDN’T do it. I’d had hip surgery on my right leg — which I didn’t expect when I submitted my proposal some 6 months before — and I couldn’t drive when the conference came around. I lived 40 miles away from the venue. I gave him a month’s notice. He could have given me a ride, right? But no. When I went back to school, that’s what I got.
Another event, different school? I was up for tenure but didn’t get it because I “disrespected” someone on the committee. And what was that disrespect? it’s not for polite family-oriented blog posts….
The classroom? That was a wonderful place to be.
I agree. The classroom is a wonderful place to be. I enjoyed teaching anthropology to nursinf students. They were going to go and put what they learned into action.
Lou, your reflection really hit home for me, and I appreciate the raw honesty you’ve poured into this. It’s striking how your experience as an anthropologist—something that sounds so inherently meaningful—got bogged down by the bureaucratic nonsense and egos you had to navigate. I can feel the exhaustion in your words. When you describe being an “interference blocker” for your staff, it paints a vivid picture of the toll that kind of workplace toxicity takes. No wonder you’re “just so done with that now.”
I resonate with what you and Martha are saying about the frustration of working under people prioritizing their own agendas over the actual mission. It’s disheartening to hear how the joy of working with communities was overshadowed by self-serving higher-ups. Your junk food analogy is spot on—too much of that environment would leave anyone craving something authentic and fulfilling, like your woodworking, writing, and the little TV station. As Life Lessons noted, it’s inspiring to see you’ve found creative outlets that bring you genuine satisfaction.
I’ve had my own taste of similar workplace frustrations—not in anthropology, but running an international toy company where the focus shifted from the work’s purpose to managing egos and politics. It’s draining to constantly shield the real work from those distractions. Your story makes me wonder how many people walk away from meaningful careers because of these same dynamics. Did you ever find a way to cope with those “egocentric twits” that worked, or was it always a matter of just powering through? Thanks for sharing such a candid perspective—it’s a reminder to prioritize what truly matters in our work and lives.
Thank you very much for commenting on the post. As a bit of “Afterward” I wound up working at UPS as a part time supervisor while I put the carving business together. It was rough, tough and nasty. But it was also a very honest place to work. It was there that one very good manager taught me the difference between “Management by Ambush” and ” Management by Walking Around.” You can guess what management by ambush was like. In mangement by walking around you moved about the operation helping out rather than screaming and yelling. You trained your people in effective techniques, and were an ever present factor in the operation. Yes you did discipline, and sometimes fire people. But not too often.
There is just that point in life where you are forced out of a box that no longer fits you. I hope you find peace in your journey ❤️
Thank you, and thanks for visiting my blog!