Professional Development and Nightmare Networking

After a week-long sojourn to the Garden City, Capital of the Mainland, Christchurch (aka Crime-church), I am supposed to consider myself ‘professionally developed’ and actually do my job with some sort of efficiency.

Of the 50 or so participants I was probably the youngest by a decade and a minority in that I wasn’t balding or male.

As much as I was concentrating my darndest, the gripping material only managed to keep me awake 80% of the week despite consuming my annual caffeine intake in the 5 days and developing an addiction to Red Bull in a feeble attempt to mitigate my narcolepsy. Seriously though, even a field trip by Bus ended with losing a battle to concrete eyelids and waking to a wee saliva patch on my shoulder marking where I was slumped.

We were fed, watered, tea-d and coffee-d every hour and a half as means of both brain-rest and that kind of forced networking you oft encounter in the adult world of work. Not that I am uncomfortable socialising in a ‘first day of school’ kind of way with people you don’t know, I try not to fall into the trap of those horrible comparative conversations equivalent to ‘my dad is better than your dad’ where full grown adults are trying to out do each other. I don’t think I have ever observed more ego stroking.

When awake and intently listening to distinguished looking wrinkly men in suits and spectacles I tried to make up for lost time by asking the most vexing questions I could dream up. I limited my questions to one a day so as to appear engaged but not one of those overzealous arse-kissing mature students you come across at university (there is usually at least one in every class – you know who you are!).

In conclusion, learned alot (although mostly about human behaviour and the farce that is professional networking) but the best part was walking to and home from class everyday through the leafy suburbs - it was cleansing.
 
C.K.