There are moments in one's experiences that sometime reveal a surprising strength or weakness of a relationship, a family, a society, a culture or a nation. When a nation is defined by its culture, its strength and weakness are also defined by the culture of the people in it.
For several years while living in the USA, I worked for a company involved in developing technologies for everyday use. It had people from many nations and backgrounds. There were many 'older' middle-aged employees, but most were younger like I was. I was still trying to get used to the people and their culture despite having experienced it for many years in the university where I studied and in a few years that I worked at the company. I had not much experience or wisdom of the local social practices that normally I could absorb, emulate and fit in. I had done it reasonably well in my speech, accent, writing and even in some social etiquette. I however missed out on a few. It is perhaps this 'failing' that help reveal a surprising, admirable strength of the USAnian culture.
Once, during the celebration of a milestone achieved by our work group coinciding with one of its anniversaries, there was a party with a lot of food and drinks. Some of the top brass of the company too were invited. There were two cakes for dessert, rectangular in shape, one large enough to easily serve a hundred people and the other was a much smaller one that could perhaps serve twenty. There were from a very famous local cakemaker and apparently quite expensive. One of them was apparently a very fine famous rendition, soft, melt in your mouth delicacy and many looked forward to a good slice. Our successful company could afford it on such occasions. There were about 80 people in the party.
As the official party came to the cake eating stage after the initial speeches, grand buffet style dinner, everyone gathered around the cake table for a special candle blowing cermony on the cakes. An honour and toast to the group anniversary was announced by the leader of our group with a "Happy birthday" song dedicated to the group. They got the newest hire to come and blow out the candles. I was standing nearby and since I was known to have found a lot of bugs in the software I tested, I was handed a knife and given the honour of cutting the big cake first. There were a couple of others standing next to me, with a stack of paper plates and forks, ready to serve the slices as soon as I cut them.
Suddenly, all eyes were on me. I was a bit nervous. My own manager (boss) was standing next to one of the senior Vice Presidents of the company who remarked how good the cakes looked and that he could not wait to get a taste of it. My manager too appeared to be drooling in anticipation.
I had no experience of cutting a large rectangular cake simply and serving it. Being of an engineering background, if I had been asked this question in an interview, I would have easily employed the theory of the simplest method and cut smaller rectangles or squares. I would have make cuts in a rectangular grid pattern, parallel to the sides of the cakes. It is really a childishly simple problem that most children in the USA can solve. They can actually cut the cakes like that and serve it without a second thought. They have done it or seen it done before, all their lives.
I was not used to handling cakes, birthday cakes or celebrations involving cakes growing up in India. On my birthday, my parents conducted a prayer at the nearby temple, my mother made some Indian treats or we bought a few more and distributed it among my classmates and neighbours. As we grew older, it was unsaid, but expected that we would do something useful or kind to others, atleast on our birthday- perhaps in a desire to make people happy that I was born. My only encounters with cakes in India has involved my devouring a slice or two on some occasions or parties hosted by others.
During the few years I had lived in the USA until this incident, on a couple of occasions I had had some people buy a cake for me on my birthday, I used to blow out the candles and my family or friends would help cut the cake and distribute it. I had never cut a decent sized cake by myself and distributed it. I only had knowledge of the taste of various cakes and pastries, but no experience in handling them, their structure, texture or local reputations.
Anyway, I took up the ornamental fancy cake cutting knife and flourished it like a sword, to break the tension and hide the nervousness I was feeling. Everyone laughed. I eased up a little. I then twisted it around held it like a stabbing knife. There was uproarious laughter.
"Careful Cannon don't go psycho on the cake!!" someone called out. More laughter!!
Everyone called me 'Cannon' as it was the easiest way for them to try and pronounce my name - Kannan,
At that moment, all common sense and normal thinking left me. I was suddenly 'inspired'. I felt 'artistic' like a virtuoso would. This large cake was like a blank canvas in front of me. If the cake had been a small rectangle less than a foot long, I would have instinctively gone for the rectangular grid approach, but this one was about three feet long and almost as wide. It seemed to be calling out my 'inner artist' that no one had seen for a long, long time.
"Do something special, different and show them your creative side," it seemed to scream.
With a flourish I stuck the tip of the knife in the centre of the cake. Normally, if I were to be considered normal, I was expected to make the first cut at the outer edge, in a straight line, along the outer edge of the cake, parallel to edge of the table. My first strike was not what anyone had expected.
There were shouts - some excited and some horrified. I could not tell the cheers from the jeers at that moment. I traced a curving line from the centre towards the outer edge, almost in a spiral. There were apparently some faces frozen in surprise, shock and horror. I never saw any of them. I was in 'the zone'. I pulled the knife out and went back to the center. I then traced a new curve, roughly in parallel to the first one but with a few flourishes along the way. I realised that the cake was very soft and simply dragging the knife smoothly in one direction was not working well - some of the cake was being dragged on either sides of the blade. It was not a clear, sharp cut dividing the cake. That would require a slight to and fro, sawing kind of motion, that would work fine in a straight line. I had already drawn a big sweeping curve across the face.
By now, apparently, the crowd watching me had divided itself into two groups, one that was stunned, shocked, horrified and outraged at my performance and another that was stunned, shocked, thrilled and excited at the same performance. I suspect many had already had enough of the alcoholic drinks to make them feel a bit wild. There were some loud cheers and chanting beginning.
"Go Cannon, Go Cannon, Go Cannon!!" I could hear the crowd.
I performed a couple more sweeping long cuts. There was some silence and quiet murmurs.
Everyone was still waiting to see how I would plan the little slices for everyone. I realised that people needed small serving sized slices soon. So I started to cut between the curved lines I had rendered. I used the to and fro motion, but that dragged long trails of that soft cake. It was meant to be treated carefully and differently than the 'butchering' that I was administering, as quoted by someone later.
I was still focussed on the cake and my eyes did not take notice of things happening around me. My helpers gamely helped scoop up the slices and served one first quickly. One even made its way to the senior VP. My own manager apparently froze in horror, turned away and went over to the edge of the room, watching from a distance with her hands over mouth, trying to hold up her dropping jaw perhaps!
I diligently finished with my artistic patterned rending of the big cake. In the noise and bedlam, I did not notice who was not with me. All excited and flushed with my 'success' I went over to the second cake.
I thought I faintly head someone say "Oh No! Someone please save that poor thing at least!!" Perhaps it was my manager.
But it was too late. I had seen the smaller cake and decided it was not suitable for fine art, but a less intricate but different pattern - parallel angular cuts, but at an angle to the sides, in way that the slices came out in a stretched diamond shape. That cake was firmer and withstood my assault with its innards and guts still intact and in a better condition than my first victim.
Apparently, the group of my 'supporters' was a larger than my detractors, and that there was no one in the 'neutral' group. They either loved me or hated me! Later, I heard my manager left the room after she saw my first cut of the second cake. She had pushed away a slice of the first cake that someone had extended towards here, refusing any part of it. Even later, someone told me she had said, "I can never look at cake the same way again!" Apparently, she was joined soon by a few more of the managers. The senior VP was also seen leaving shortly afterwards.
When I looked around triumphantly, after conquering both the cakes, I soon realised something was terribly wrong. A couple of my colleagues told me what had happened and how my manager had reacted. I was crestfallen, shocked and stunned. I knew a performance review meeting was soon coming up with my manager in a day or two. I already dreaded it because of some issues I was having at work. Now, this should completely wreck my future with this company, I thought to myself. My shoulders slumped and I wandered off to my room. On my way, I was offered a piece of the cake by my helpers. I was too upset to be able to eat. I did not have the heart to refuse the person who was smiling supportively at me. Many in the room were aware of how my manager and other managers had reacted to my act. I took the slice in hand and walked to my room. On the way, I passed by my manager's office with the door open. She was sitting at her desk, looking intently at her computer and ignoring me with great effort. Normally, we would always exchange a wave. I went over to my room with the cake slice in my hand. I put it on the table and slumped in my chair. I closed my eyes. My throat was dry, my heart had been pounding for a while - first in excitement during my performance and in the shock of realisation of its effects, soon after.
Soon, there was a knock on my door. My voice sounded strangely deflated, even to me.
"Come in!" I said. I could never turn anyone from my work group away while at work anyway. It could be official work.
About a dozen of my colleagues trooped into my office, mostly the juniors, temporary hires and newbies. There were a few friends I worked with closely. They all looked at me.
"I can see you are not OK, you are upset. But we want you to know it is fine with all of us," one of my good friends in the group said.
"No, it is not. Did you not see my manager? She could not bear to it. I blew it!" I said resignedly.
"No, We have never seen anyone cut a cake like that before, dude! It was awesome!" someone said.
"Yes, totally radical, cool man!" There was loud cheering and laughter that spread from my room on outside.
I heard more people in the hallway outside my door. It was a huge crowd following me. I was worried because they all were lining up along my manager's office and she could hear everything.
I reckoned that these people who were showing their 'support' for me and trying to cheer me up were actually making things worse for me with my manager and other managers.
"I have never cut a cake before to be served to others in India," I tried to explain plaintively.
"Well, you are unique in your cake-cutting style, Cannon. We'll now have to call you to cut all the cakes in our office!" my friend said.
"Yeah, Yeah, Cannon Cake Cutter!! C-C-C" someone called out.
"His name is spelled with a 'K', "someone else pointed out.
"It should then be Kannon, Krazy Kake Kutter - K-K-K-K" More laughter.
"Three cheers to KKKK!"...
"Kannan, You are the most unique cake cutter in the USA. You should go on TV! I will invite you to my house just to cut cakes."
It went on. They would not leave me until I had eaten the cake slice. Someone brought me a drink. Another person soon sent away everyone else. They saw to it that I went home and reached home safely that night.
"Don't worry. Nothing will happen to you because of this," they tried to reassure me, confidently.
"Well, your manager is perhaps shocked, but she should not have reacted like this. She should have had that slice of cake." someone said, loud enough for my manager to hear.
I realised that some of those speaking up for me, so loudly and openly did infact report to my manager too. They were totally unafraid. It took a long time to dawn on me. This culture was different from what I expected. Socially, in a work place, this culture expected fairness for all and would not stand for punishing someone for such acts as mine. If someone made a mistake unintentionally and socially, a grown up was expected to act with grace, kindness and understanding. It did not matter how senior or high up the person was.
Later, after my performance review, I realised that my manager focussed only on my work performance and left this out of consideration. Apparently, her own manager's job was to make sure she did the right thing. The senior VP who had left quietly, was also responsible for making sure the right messages were sent down the chain of command for all. They worked hard to ensure that the managers did the right thing, that the morale of the group was kept up. They did not hesitate to subtly pull up senior managers or caution them against retaliation or victimisation of employees.
I slowly realised that I was feeling concerned and worried because of my own background, experience and expectations. It had been ingrained in me over many years. I have seen in many parts of the world, people are afraid to speak up against the mistakes of senior or more powerful people in the company or the more assertive people in a gathering. In many cultures, they routinely pander to their personal whims even if they are not being fair, kind or graceful. I am not saying that every instance is dealt like this in the USA, but the USA is different that in most cases it does NOT happen that way. It is very clear from observing their culture, their people from all parts of the country, from all income and social status, that they will speak up for what they believe is right, fair or good in front of their managers. This forces most to fall into line of being 'nice and kind' or 'decent' socially.
This is surely one of the greatest real strengths of the USA. The loyalty and affection they earn from their employees and general population is different from other cultures.
Copyright (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2016
All rights reserved
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