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cirimotas · 5 months

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Dr. Danilo Nomaba and His Required Sensitivity Talk About 'The Religion'

Someone in the department received an email. Another request was made from the lab for sensitivity training about “the religion”. A few of the lab assistants had upset another group of workers. The words “It all sounds like the same thing” was followed by cringes and groans and sneers, and now somebody needed to clean up and clarify the different sects. Again.

The department had a list of Ibapuso faculty and staff that could “educate.” It was one of Ida Kane’s proactive moves when she took her new position as the Human Resources administrator. The issue was constantly returning to the supervisor’s office, and the chore of education was monitored haphazardly. The list was supposed to be egalitarian. Everyone who was capable of doing it was placed on the list. For the most part, it was working. It was fair.

So now who was it going to be? Ida flipped through her spreadsheets and was relieved. The next name on the list was Dr. Danilo Nomaba. She didn’t know him, but his last name seemed to follow the name conventions of…the religion? (Which sect? She had no clue.) She checked his location. Fantastic. Dr. Nomaba worked at the very lab. Why hadn’t they approached him before looping the home office? Who cared… He was next.

Ida typed up an email.

"Good evening,

I hope this email finds you well. We have received a request from your lab for someone to speak about your culture. Based on my records, you have yet to give a talk, so you’re up next! You don’t need any materials. You can just speak from the heart and your lived experiences. Be as authentic as you deem necessary.

Please give your talk by the end of the week.

para sa para sa espiritu ng pamilya at bunga ng buhay salamat opo

I hope I wrote that okay.

Thank you.

Kind regards,

Ida Kane"

Ida felt good about this one. She sent the email and included his supervisor Dr. Tanning.

Not even five minutes later, she received an email from Dr. Tanning.

"Dammit, Ida. Your email gave me hemorrhoids. Why didn’t you ask me first? He is not equipped for this. Please find someone else.

Jim Tanning"

The audacity.

"Jim, thank you for your email. For fair division of work, Dr. Nomaba will need to participate. It wil be a good way to make him and everyone else feel like they are part of a team. This will be an excellent way to improve our work culture.

If Dr. Nomaba is not equipped, I will create a presentation outline and slides. They will be ready for him to use tomorrow. I will be present to make sure everything goes smoothly and that he is set up for success.

See you tomorrow morning.

Best,

Ida"

That’ll show him.

Then another email popped into her inbox. From Dr. Nomaba.

It read:

will try regards, D

Terse. Not entirely professional. Despite that, Ida smirked and forwarded the email to Dr. Tanning with a single statement.

See you tomorrow.

When Ida arrived at the lab the next day, she was greeted by strange looks. Most of the employees seemed to be in the middle of certain tasks that required space. She made sure to respect that. She clutched her bag closer to herself to ensure she took up as little space as possible in the busy halls. Still, it didn’t hurt to catch a glimpse of what sort of work they were doing through the windows. One room, a chemist lab. The next, a clean room with different devices and full body suits. She had no clue what was going on.

Ida needed to focus. She could ask questions later. She directed herself to Dr. Tanning’s office, a room with the door ajar in a tight hallway. She knocked on the doorframe and then let herself in.

Eyes were quickly on her. Dr. Tanning, of course, with his large and drooping eyes. Then, a blank stare with bags under the eyes from a tired looking younger gentleman.

With a quick nod, Ida said, “Good morning, Jim. Is this Dr. Nomaba?”

The younger gentleman yawned a big yawn. He was waiting for Dr. Tanning to say something. His fingers were twisting and turning around each other. His outfit generally disheveled. It wasn’t necessarily what she though of when she thought a doctor in a lab.

Dr. Tanning finally spoke after a long sigh. He gestured to the gentleman. “Yes, yes. This is Dr. Nomaba.”

“Excellent,” Ida said. She directed her attention to Dr. Nomaba and extended a hand to shake. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Dr. Nomaba blinked at her and then looked down at her extended hand. He cocked his head—one direction, then another—as if he were scrutizing her hand with great care. Finally, he gave her hand a quick, firm shake.

“Let’s get this done then,” he said.

“Yes, the conference room is already set up. All you have to do is set up your computer, Ida. I’ll round up the ‘heathens,’” Dr. Tanning announced.

Interaction between herself and Dr. Nomaba was minimal. As they had walked to the conference room, his eyes were glued to a digital tablet. A green hue illuminated his face. He remained stoic, even through her own noisy puttering around the conference room.

A slow line of employees entered the room. Several of them stared, almost in shock, at the sight of Dr. Nomaba’s presence. Ida wasn’t sure what that meant, but she grew nervous when she realized the doctor wasn’t even regarding the people in any way or even engaging with her about the presentation. No matter… It was an easy presentation unless he didn’t know anything.

Ida finished connecting her computer and pulled the white screen over the board. She turned to Dr. Nomaba. His face was still green. His eyes were still intently looking at the tablet display. How could anyone see him as a authority figure looking like that? She loudly cleared her throat. Everyone except the doctor gave their attention to her.

Wonderful…

Ida placed herself directly next to him. No response. She tapped his shoulder. He jumped and finally looked at her.

A tight smile pulled across her face when Dr. Tanning walked into the room. He sat in the back with his arms crossed.

“Okay, Dr. Nomaba. The presentation is ready for you.”

“Okay,” was his response. He put his tablet down and went to the board.

This was incredibly easy. It was an insult to the doctor to claim he couldn’t do this. Ida made a mental note to write a report about Dr. Tanning’s discriminatory behavior toward Dr. Nomaba.

Ida watched him scan his surroundings and then to the computer screen. Her heart dropped to her stomach when she saw him sneer. She glanced back at Dr. Tanning. The man looked satisfied with himself. For a moment. Ida tried to stay hopeful. She gave a supportive smile and a thumbs up to Dr. Nomaba. It seemed to go unnoticed.

Dr. Nomaba scrolled through something on her computer and then sighed. He slapped a button and the opening page of Ida’s presentation glowed onto the screen. His sneer seemed to worsen.

“So I guess I’m talking about this?” His voice dripped with disbelief.

Had he not read the email?

“Is it really that important?” A huff. “Fine.”

The first set of text was simply the title: The Religion.

Instead of jumping into the talk, Dr. Nomaba directed his attention to the screen. “The religion. What religion? The Resurgence? The New Resurgence? The New Revivalists—no, no…they’re the cult… yeah… Maybe the True Beginning? No. That’s not relevant anymore. People don’t practice that anymore. Not here anyway. Excuse me, Ms. um…”

“Yes?” Ida sat up. Maybe she could give him a little more direction.

The doctor gestured a finger at the screen. “What is this?”

“Well, um. We’ve had a complaint about insensitive remarks about…this?”

“What about it? Which ‘this’?”

A small voice from the group said, “What’s the difference between all the sects? They seem…”

“Stupid? Irrelevant? Unimportant? Nonexistent?”

Oh no. Ida piped up. “I think what she meant was—”

“No. I know what she meant.” Dr. Nomaba gave the screen a good long look. More disgust. He grabbed a marker, and behind everyone, Dr. Tanning made a protesting, strangled sound.

“This ‘religion’ has many sects, yes? But there is basically no difference between them and anyone who says otherwise is an idiot and should reevaluate their confidence in their critical thinking skills. Now,” Dr. Nomaba started, popping the top off the marker with his teeth, “I did say there’s no difference, but that’s technically not true.”

Ida’s eyes went wide, her jaw dropped as he began writing on the screen. She looked back at Dr. Tanning. The man pressed a palm on one of his temples. She could have sworn she heard him say, “That’s a permanent…marker…” The workers maintained calm demeanors. As though this wasn’t surprising behavior.

On the screen was a list of names with a sect jotted next to them. “The major difference is that each sect has a different charismatic narcissist claiming that their interpretation of the scripture is different. But they read and interpret the same thing, with the same conclusions… but with varying volumes of their voices during their sermons.”

Dr. Nomaba wrote down a list on the screen, an outline of the sects.

It made her list look incomplete.

This new outline became a flow chart.

"The Original Great Beginning

The True Beginning

The Great Beginning

The Great Surge

The Original Surge

The New Surge

The Original Resurgence

The Resurgence

The New Resurgence

The Revival

The New Revivalists"

“They all occur in different parts of history. Possibly due to some historical event, but there isn’t much literature on the earlier iterations. But…” Dr. Nomaba took a dry eraser and tried to erase the list of names from the earlier sects. Nothing happened. He looked from the screen to the eraser and then back to the screen.

“Huh…” Dr. Nomaba sighed heavily, almost in frustration. Maybe with himself. He gave a quick shake of the head and then…he…continued…writing… on the screen. Writing with a certain intensity that only someone thinking ‘fuck it’ would say. Almost angry, even. He tossed the marker in the trash when he was done writing. It was only then that Ida noticed that there were notes written on the whiteboard.

‘Danilo, do not use markers.’

‘Dr. Nomaba, please use screen for presentations.’

‘These markers are permanent. Don’t use.’

Why? Why have permanent markers in the room? She had no clue why. That was a separate issue. Her eyes lifted from the marker in the trash to Dr. Nomaba’s face. His face had a healthy spackling of ink from the marker.

“Look at the names of these sects. They mean absolutely nothing. The Great Surge is the first sect to have a date of establishment mentioned. It was, of course, listed at Year Zero, which is our Year 325. I think. It’s obviously arbitrary and it sets the year things were established back to Zero. Every. Single. Sect. That is seven resets for each and every one of them. And it all means nothing. Absolutely nothing. So if someone asks what the difference is there is none except for dates and names which can easily be researched. If someone gets upset when you suggest there’s no difference, then they are ignorant and not worth your time with this particular conversation and you should refuse to continue a conversation about the ‘religion’ until they stop being so damned sensitive.”

Dr. Nomaba suddenly set a glare at Ida. She felt a shiver overcome her.

“Is that it?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Can I leave now?” he asked. He was already grabbing his tablet and heading toward the door. He gave an absent wave to the people in the room and said, “Ask Dr. Elamoni for any further questions.”

Ida watched him disappear. Maybe he was a bit too familiar with ‘the religion’. Or maybe he was being a bit too authentic.

She looked at Dr. Tanning, who had just stepped in front of the ruined screen. He shook his head.

“I need to add another screen to the order list.” He gumbled. “Third time this quarter…”

Maybe Ida would need to add some notes for the list. And maybe set up a one-on-one with Dr. Nomaba. Or a sensitivity training.

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