Hello and welcome, I’m Renée Valentina and this is Musing Interruptus. A podcast meant for sharing thoughts, stories, enjoying idiomatic phrases and words in general. You can read along; the transcription is in the description of this episode. The idiomatic expressions are in italics. Try to get the meaning from the context and then look them up to see if you were right. If you like it, share it, but more importantly, continue the conversation. Today, Trash Can Diplomacy.
First quarter of 2017 was closing and I was ready to change my life, again. I was nervous and worried I wouldn’t be up to the task. I had been hired, phase one was accomplished. I remember pulling up to the offices and wondering about all the experiences I was about to have. That was the year of the 7.1 magnitude earthquake that lasted 20 seconds, and the devastation lasted a lot longer. Many of us still have aftershocks run through our nervous systems when we hear the early alert. I bet we can say that about a lot of situations in our lives. My time, especially at the end of my tenure in that position, is characterized by that. It is a wonder how our brains can heal and adapt. We never get back to where we started, but we do come back.
The great experiences I had include writing letters, reports, and position papers. I would start with a petition, nay, instruction, and a little backstory, then I would develop it, research and the collaboration would begin, my boss acted as my editor. She pointed me in the desired direction, polished my work, and built up the feeling that I was doing well.
I can still recall my first assignment, I was asked to write a letter in which the chairwoman expressed her support for the Chilean candidate’s leadership in an international group. I researched the candidate, crafted the lines, and conveyed the compelling reasons he was the right horse to bet on. A day's work went into that letter. By the time it was signed and sent all I could think was: that letter will never see the light of day. It would be read and the scoreboard would reflect the vote. I couldn’t tell you if that letter was really as special as I remeber it. I just knew that it would line the wastepaper basket, sooner rather than later. There are so many things we write, as hired hands, mercenaries, that have that very destiny. Who wrote it and what is behind it is of no consequence, whatsoever. Of course, the consequences come if it is not done correctly. A mishap in communication can break a deal and strain a relationship. I had always wondered if I would participate in diplomatic efforts, and here I was, baptizing a type of diplomacy nobody cares about, but it meant the world to me. My Trash Can Diplomacy.
Trash Can Diplomacy makes me smile and reminds me how rich the world can be with the right words, and oh the right delivery. Thank you for listening.
What do you most enjoy about your work? What secrets does it hold for you? What truths have been revealed? Do you have a special name for scutwork? What phrases have you made up? Do you also think about trash pandas, I mean raccoons, of course, when you hear the phrase trash can diplomacy? I’m listening.
