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Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Like Lambs To The Slaughter..

She stood on top of her ivory tower, skilfully blowing into the intricately carved Matai Koauau.  It's haunting sounds carried across the Nation, reaching all the way to the Far North, across the water, and into the nooks and crannies of the Mainland.  It's hypnotic melodies luring the flock of Poleworth Principals forward with promises of bags of gold for some who would be the 'chosen' ones.  These 'chosen' ones would be held aloft as the best in the land. 

Some rushed forward, excited to be called forth, oblivious to the dark magic Pied Piper Ms P was weaving.  Others were more hesitant - wary from previous callings, knowing that all that was promised was rarely delivered without significant consequences.  

They remembered.  The distrust that now rippled through their ranks was not by accident.  It had arisen from the demoralization of their flock from past policies that had burned its way through all that they held dear.  They had not forgotten.  

Instead they hung back, waiting, wondering, seeking clarification but receiving none. 

And still the music played.  'Follow me, be part of the process, trust me',  it implored.   'Work with me, join me in the tent, for your voice is valued', it cajoled.  

The elected leaders of the Poleworth Principals flock allowed the lilting music to dull their instincts and they shuffled forward into the tent, happy at last that they had been asked for input.  

Be careful, warned the others.  Remember, it is an election year, do not be beguiled by the baubles of false transparency.  Be wary of the secrecy - for if it is a wonderful as promised, then it would be sung from the mountaintops, not shrouded in the mists of secrecy.  

Still the leaders shuffled forward. 

"How can we help craft the knife which cuts us if we are not part of the crafting?  We must be in the tent so that we can see the knife!"

The others hung their head in worried submission.  They crossed all that they had in the hopes that this time, the crafting would not end in more sorrow.  

All the while the Koauau continued its haunting melodies, luring the flock closer to the precipice.  

And they followed.

Like lambs to the slaughter, they followed. 






1 comment:

  1. Great blog - put a link on our Educational Readings on Leading/Learning blog. Bruce Hammonds

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