For the first time in my life, I attended a block meeting. It was an emergency one, and it seemed absolutely crucial that all apartment owners be present.
The agenda, as I was to find out, had only one item: the block president—more precisely, the resignation of the current president and the election of a new one. The current president had resigned; the man is very ill and has legitimate reasons. He had given notice a few months earlier.
However, the meeting quickly turned into a circus. A few outspoken ladies pounced on this president, criticizing him left and right. “He didn’t do this, he didn’t do that, not even this, not even that, in 15 years!” I thought I’d intervene and offer another perspective: the man would no longer be in this role, the past couldn’t be changed, and this was an opportunity to assess the current situation, make an action plan, and find someone new who could meet the community’s needs.
But the ladies, who seemed to have had a dose of vitriol with their breakfast, quickly identified a new potential prey: me. I withdrew from their game swiftly, especially when the president became unwell and stepped outside the building. I ‘took advantage’ of this to go help him, bringing him some water and a chair, thus avoiding contamination by the vitriol of the gathering.
These events reminded me of a scene I witnessed in South Africa, in a park where we went to see some of the largest animals: elephants, rhinos, lions. We were in one of those safari vehicles. A lion had caught an impala and was dragging it away to make it his dinner. Attracted by the scent of blood, other lions appeared and began pulling the poor victim in all directions.
That’s how it felt at the block meeting. And it’s probably the same in many places, even in some corporate teams. Some are just waiting to find a scapegoat or for someone to make a mistake so they can pounce. Others watch passively, like they’re watching TV, and a few, very few, try to bring order and think logically (I almost said critically, but given the context, that would’ve been inappropriate).
Oh, and there was one kind gentleman next to me who kept his hand on the end of a pipe behind me to prevent me from getting hurt—he told me that, much to my surprise that such people still exist.
In case you’re wondering: no, I didn’t accept to become the block president, though I could have had my moment of glory. :))
