From Inside Jail Bars

When I was a Midshipman, only about 10 months after my induction into the Naval Academy, I flew to Chicago to visit my Dad during Spring break. He was a 31 year career Sgt Major in the Marine Corps. I got the royal treatment. Dad was the Sgt Major of the Marine Barracks for the Great Lakes Naval District. Colonel Wyerski was the commanding officer; an imposing man with a perpetually serious expression who stood more than 6' 5". Dad and his Lance Corporal met me at O'Hare.

After requesting that I carry my own gear, the LCPL delighted in obeying my Dad's order to carry it, walking behind Dad and I. Under any other circumstances I probably wouldn't have been concerned - but this new 19 year old Plebe was in the midst of 100's of upper class Midshipmen who could easily have targeted me upon my return to the Academy. In short, we were quite an ostentatious site that hardly escaped the gaze of my seniors. Simply put, Plebes did not rate any one carrying their gear, and they certainly didn't deserve the snappy salute I received from the LCPL as he placed me in the rear seat of the Col's staff car, parked in a VIP area with blinkers flashing. Chicago cops were also obviously accommodating, Viet Nam was still going strong.

As we rolled forward from our parking place with Chicago's Finest stopping traffic to clear our way, I noted an attentive audience of at least 40 upperclassmen watching the improbable scene of a Plebe being courted as a full Colonel.

The Col included me in all his activities, Office Hours, inspections, parade reviews. It was quite a leadership workshop to see a Marine Corps Colonel go about leading the men in his charge. Nothing escaped his eye. In those moments of crushing objection to the quality of his officers' work, I discretely stepped away - leaving him to his animated expression, and the unfortunate officer to his pain. There were several occasions when Marine Captains would glare at me with a barely bridled fierceness, for they understood fully my station and the royal treatment I was receiving. At the same time, I was puzzled at the obvious anger, and resentment that possessed them.

Dad had told me how he "read off" Captains whose conduct wasn't to his standards, especially if they were arrogant. While technically they outranked him, it would have indeed been a stupid officer who alienated the unit Sgt Major, especially when he enjoyed a solid friendship with their Colonel. I've concluded that Dad's treatment had something to do with their attitude. In that one becomes a Capt around the age of 26, I also attribute it to their youth. In reflection, those officers were liked caged lions who wanted a piece of me, but were restrained by circumstance.

It occurred to me today, 38 years later that my judgment places me in the same cage as those Marine Captains.

We become possessed with resentment and loathing to the extent that we cannot focus otherwise. Our preoccupation with situations or persons we have judged can consume us to a point that we righteously assert and justify our point of view and our actions toward those we scorn.

Today I worked with a headstrong and earnest manager in my company. It struck me that I had become a 26 year-old Captain who wanted to show this guy who's who, and what's what. My only constraint was a concern about how I might appear to those more powerful than I.

What would have happened if one of those Captains took me under his wing to act as a mentor? I reflect on what a shift in the dynamic he would have experienced, becoming a contribution to another's life and career. Instead he chose the experience of a caged animal.

The starkness of my habitual tendency to judge, placing people below me as prey was painfully apparent. The years wasted behind bars rushed upon me. What if I treated this headstrong, but earnest manager as someone who is seeking to do a better job and make a stronger contribution?

I might even make a splendid, lifelong friend and ally.