THE CIRCUS OF DESPICABLES’ STORY
A foul stench lingered to herald the coming of the elusive spectre of new rulers. At midnight of the overthrow, Chima Fox caught a sobering whiff from the putrid swamp twenty stories below. This seemed an appropriate stinkiness to announce the parade of lumpy black beetle-like trucks rumbling in a long line on Highway 237 in Silicon Valley, all aimed to the building on which Chima wavered in the swampy breeze at the rooftop.
This night was supposed to be the inaugural occupying of their new corporate headquarters of the Artificial Intelligence company where she lead Product Development as its first and only African-American female VP. But with the evisceration of a tweet, two realities, blazoned in caps, sunk her mood; NEW OWNERSHIP and EXEC MEETING AT MIDNIGHT.
That was an hour ago. Since that time, four new tweets riddled her spirit, each one ramping up her dread more than the last, as the true origin of this new management was masked by the generic corporate signature. SIGN YER LOYALTY was the first directive from the ether. Then a scuttling succession of tweets, one word per five minutes, each at a barely child-level of scrawl; WE-DO-HAVE-A-ENEMY-LIST.
In a trampling of gloom and swampiness of a humid sweat, a thin gangly man-boy bobbed to the surface of the roof, stepping to the side of Chima. Her aide-in-command Zev Sinofsky exhaled an effluence of thick white smoke from his e-cigarette then flung it over the side of the roof in disgust. “We have NOTHING!” he announced to Chima. “All our projects, our roles and titles, offices, extensions… Can you believe it? They’re all gone. No one knows what to do.”
“This takeover has many faces, none of whom own it all. That’s their trick. They claim nothing of what they sow.” Chima allowed a cranium to phalanges shudder to steal a goal across her body. This purged a scant of her deep anxieties, and was all she’d allow to make visible of it. Her stiffened posture modeled a resolute stance on which she now turned on high heel to cross the roof toward the stairwell door, Zev in tow. “Let’s meet the new owners of our lives, if they show themselves.”
The Accountability Pact
Chima paused Zev as he reached the rooftop exit door, sensing a last stand to sturdy their wavering confidence. “Remember, we have worked and will work with a total transparency of leadership. Accountable to a fault. No matter who claims the throne.”
As if the spectre is hearing this, and needing to counter with a new reality, Chima & Zev were immediately assaulted by full-stop pungent stink from the bowels of the swamplands far below that had snaked its way to the top.
Making wobbly their assurance, the foul stench lingered to herald the coming of the elusive spectre of their new rulers.
CALL TO ACTION (CTA)
1) BE AN ACCOUNTABLE LEADER
2) TUNE INTO OUR NEXT BLOG to be posted during the week of 6/17/19
- What do you think the moral of this story is?
- How do you react when you’re asked to be loyal to a leadership team that encourages loyalty, but not accountability?
- How have we increased your vocabulary?