Day 88: August 27, 2009 (the public transcript vs. the hidden transcript)

Position: Driver

Number of Deliveries: 12

Sales: $423.44

Tips: $74

Hours: 3.70

Total Wage: $28 per hour

Although I managed the restaurant during the day yesterday (which was uneventful), tonight is my first night back driving since my weeklong vacation to the state of Washington to visit friends and skateboard and camp on Orcas Island. It feels good to be back in the saddle.

Late in the night, I get a delivery to Rancho Del Lago. When I arrive at the guard gate, I'm excited to see the elderly gate guard (see Day 68) who reminds me of my grandpa Raulston. "THE Pizzeria," he says with an excited look in his eyes. I instantly feel guilty about not bringing him cookies or something. He asks me where I'm going, and after I read him the address, he tries to call them. Three times. Two times he begins his spiel, "This is the gate house, I have THE Pizzeria here . . . " and then the line goes dead. He's getting as frustrated as I am waiting, and he mumbles something about "these people," when his phone finally rings. He opens the gate, then repeats the story he told me before but with added commentary this time. "I let one of you guys in one night and got my ass chewed out," he says, then quotes the residents in a whiny voice,  "They said, 'What if we were in the backyard and the food got cold?'" He returns to his regular voice, saying, "Like I could give a shit. Ha ha."

The contrast between the kind, passive voice the elderly guard used on the phone with the residents and story he tells me reminds me of a book I quoted in a pedagogy paper on "disruption" as a form of learning in the classroom. The book is James C. Scott's Domination and the Art of Resistance: Hidden Transcripts. While the book is about cultural mechanisms for resisting domination, the two most interesting concepts are "public transcripts," which Scott says is "a shorthand way of describing the open interaction between subordinates and those who dominate," and "hidden transcripts," which he uses to "characterize discourse that takes place 'offstage,' beyond the direct observation of the power holders . . . [and] consists of those offstage speeches, gestures, and practices that confirm, contradict, or inflect what appears in the public transcript" (5).  

The public transcript is the voice and shucking and jiving the guard does for the residents, while the hidden transcript is that he doesn't really "give a shit" if their food gets cold. When I was teaching, I would encourage my students to openly criticize me and air their grievances about how the class was structured and run, in order to give them a sense of "agency," or power. The more the hidden transcript makes its way into the public transcript the more likely the subordinates are to feel empowered and understood and less likely to revolt in harsh or violent ways. 

For example, think of the relationship between antebellum Southern slaves and their white masters. Imagine what was said of the masters in the slave quarters that could never be spoken publicly. This hidden transcript created a powder keg of resentment that imprisoned the masters, for fear of revolt, as much as the slaves, who became good actors. The masters often consoled themselves by saying, "My slaves and I get along well. They really like me." No, they didn't, because any relationship of subordination breeds contempt, and the only thing that protected them from butcher was the law. 

After the guard lets me in, I drive the length of Vista Lago and instantly recognize the modern, cube-like, white house I'm delivering to. The last time I came out here, a really nice Australian woman tipped me well. This time, a handsome, white haired gentleman walks out front to greet me as I pull up. He shares the same Aussie accent as the woman, and gives me $30 for a $20.13 order, saying, "Enjoy it," before heading back inside. I count the money on the way to my car and wonder why every wealthy person can't be this cool.