A Lament to Industrial Relations

The Chinese penchant for a life at work is best described as diametrically opposed to the Australian spirit. As such, I spent my first nine months in Asia chanting anti-work mantras such as: Hey ho, hey ho, the six-day week has got to go! and One, two, three, four, 5 pm I’m out the door!

Time wore me down however and culled my protests. My final resignation came after realizing no one else had time for friendships or walks in the park, and discovering there was something debasing about playing Scrabble alone, and having only a few passing roaches to chuckle at my witty dialogue. So, after two years of feeble resistance and long working hours, I woke one day finally cured of my disabling Australian work ethic. After all, who has time to reflect on their national identity, when all they do is work?

In addition to becoming a confirmed workaholic, China has taught me to avoid facing problems, smile sweetly, and swallow at least a few bitter pills. Still, being the slow learner that I am, it has taken over 3000 hours of social psychological conditioning in private language institutes for me to really come to terms with my deficiencies as an employee. To think, I once foolishly believed in paid holidays, honest appraisals, and education before profit!

Yet, despite all my progress, I still feel this laid-back, bush-whacking alter-ego lurking just beneath the surface. An alter-ego that sometimes just wants to yell out: fair go mate! Especially when it receives that kind of email that starts: NOTICE: the teaching department will eliminate 10 teachers at the beginning of February! To be honest, that alter-ego is sometimes so overbearing I fear it’s actually a genetic disorder that induces outbursts of working-class pride.

As a result of my crippling precondition, I have found myself at odds over a renewal contract in my company. It seems my disorder has blinded me to the rewards hidden behind signing a contract that demands: the Employee must consider the benefits of the Company as priority, and obey all the Company’s policies.

Despite the director’s kind attempts to push me in the right direction, I still feel a strain of rebellion coursing through my veins. A strain that multiplies each time I focus on any of its 654 supporting clauses – the teacher has no right to refuse working overtime; days taken as sick leave or for national holidays should be made up at the company’s discretion, quitting mid-contract will incur a fine of RMB 50,000 …

Fortunately, the director of my school is an attentive and reasonable man, who was willing to take a few hours out of his busy schedule to reveal the flaws in my logic. He may have even convinced me, had I not previously been genetically-coded into believing a contract should be binding, fair and lawful, and that clauses included for the sole purpose of scaring employees are actually redundant. Still, every day the voices in my head get louder: one, two, three, four, please don’t think and work some more!
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