Rose-colored glasses
A year ago, we were on the road, leaving New Jersey for Colorado.
Kyle had not been happy at work for a long time, and it takes a lot to make him unhappy. There was a regime change in progress, driven from the top, as managers were poached from another wirehouse and brought in to replace existing managers. I had seen the same sort of changes at the record labels - as execs are lured away from one company to another, they bring with them selected lieutenants who may or may not retain existing employees.
He had been looking passively for a while, and one day in a fit of desperation (because when men aren’t happy at work, they aren’t happy at home), I told him that if he wanted to look outside the New York metro area, that was all right with me.
At the time, CJ was a newborn and I was at home with her, scheduled to return to work at the beginning of April. In those early days, I coped best by taking one day at a time. That is, I was not thinking about my job, let alone our future.
I had been working for the same company, first as a contractor and then as a full-time employee, for nearly five years. It had been quite a rollercoaster ride over those years, in terms of my position, company politics, and the music industry itself.
There was a constant tug-of-war of influence between NY and LA, a tug-of-war that extended from the execs all the way down to the trenches. I lived and worked in NY, but my manager and my director and my VP were all in LA. This disconnect was at the root of many issues over the years, starting with an altercation between a NY-based manager and me.
My manager flew to NY to interview me over dinner, hired me that night, and I reported to work the next morning. He stayed for another week to train me, and naturally, he trained me from the LA perspective. I had no idea how significantly it would differ from the way things were done in NY.
After he left, I began to work on a large, highly visible project that had been led in the interim by this particular manager, Dina. As I spent time talking with her and the clients involved in the project, it became clear that this project was not being handled in accordance with the guidelines I’d been given during my training. I attempted to walk a thin line between telling Dina and the clients “No” and blatantly disregarding the direction my manager had given me.
It wasn’t working. No, that’s putting it too mildly. It was a total clusterfuck.
And one afternoon, Dina came into my office to grill me. Tired of tap dancing, I told her that I would have to talk with my manager before I could give her an answer. She glared at me and retorted, “I just wish people would do their fucking jobs,” and walked out.
Stupid me, I got up and followed her back to her office. I should have left her alone to simmer down. But I had only been there three weeks, I was completely confused as to what was expected of me, and she did have a bit of political clout. I didn’t want her to think that I was refusing to do my job. I just wanted to know what my job WAS.
In her office, she ranted and cursed until I started to tear up. God, I hated myself for doing that. But I was freaking out; I needed this job, and instead of making things better by trying to talk it out with her, I had apparently made things worse.
I asked her not to tell anyone that I had lost my cool, and she crossed her fingers behind her back and promised that she wouldn’t say anything. A few days later, my manager called me and said, “Did Dina make you cry?”
Pardon me?
“Someone told me that. Do I need to come out there and kick her ass?”
Shit.
(I loved my manager. He was always on my side. And what happened with Dina didn’t color his judgment of me one whit.)
The next several months passed relatively uneventfully. I managed projects, my management turned over - a few times, I gradually got to know my co-workers, both in NY and LA, and I made a few friends and allies thanks to their appreciation for the work I’d been doing. I had no idea how much I would end up needing those friends and allies.
I’d been there a little over a year, still as a contractor, when my latest manager came out from LA to pay a visit. Two of my peers in LA had recently been let go, and he reassured me that there were no concerns regarding my performance.
There was a movement afoot to convert contractors to full-time employees, and I gave him the same answer that I had given all of my previous managers: It was to my financial benefit to remain a contractor, but my highest priority was to remain with the company. If that meant that I needed to convert, I would do so. He assured me that I could remain a contractor for the foreseeable future, but he would let me know if that changed.
He asked if I had any other questions for him, and I told him that my husband and I were planning to start a family - did he foresee any conflicts between those plans and my role at work? He asked if I planned to keep working there, I said yes, and he said he wanted me to keep working there too. He gave no hint that there might be any problems.
(Yes, I know I wasn’t obligated to tell him anything. Yes, I know I was ridiculously optimistic to announce my “plans”, as if anyone can get pregnant anytime they want to.)
When the time came a few months later to make the actual announcement, I had yet ANOTHER manager, but my previous manager was now my director. My new manager was thrilled when I told him the news, especially since he said that he was relieved that I wasn’t resigning - apparently my serious tone had put him on guard. Again, no hint of any potential problems.
Another month after that, I was on the phone discussing a project of mine with my manager. I told him that it looked like the project would finish right around my due date and that I might need to transition it to someone else before I left on maternity leave. He replied, “Your replacement will handle it.”
My WHAT?
“We’ll have to hire someone else.”
To replace me while I’m out?
“No, permanently.”
I was almost speechless, but I did manage to eke out a few words: That’s not legal.
I’m not paranoid, nor am I litigious. But do NOT back a woman who is four months pregnant into a corner with an out-and-out threat. Desperation takes hold and her claws come out.
Once again, I found myself walking a thin line. This time it was between issuing threats of legal action and firmly insisting that there was a better solution than firing me, a solution that would benefit both the company (no legal action) and me (retaining my job).
Fortunately, I saved my job through my own persistence and diplomacy. While I was prepared for the worst possible outcome, I didn’t have to deal with it. I did have to take a pay cut - nearly half of my gross pay - which really hurts when you’re paying rent on a Manhattan apartment AND preparing for a baby. But what other choice did I have besides a lawsuit?
I also found out who were my true friends and allies, and who truly had power (and who just THOUGHT they had power). Those who stuck by me through this ordeal earned my undying loyalty. It was eye-opening, to say the least.
And interestingly, I think it brought me closer to those friends and allies. I finally began to feel as if I belonged there, more than a year and a half after I started working there. But the best days were yet to come.
I was hugely pregnant, sitting cross-legged on the floor of our telecom director’s office, surrounded by co-workers and a very unhappy client. I had once shared an office with this client when she worked for IT, and I had socialized with her as well. Now she was the technical assistant to the president of a major record label (record group, technically speaking, since they had multiple labels and joint ventures) who was renovating his residence in Manhattan. And she was pissed because someone in IT had recommended a supposedly substandard wiring technology for the big guy’s brownstone and it was her ass on the line.
(Sidebar: She once GRABBED my ass in Times Square. I’m just standing on the corner of Broadway and W. 47th, minding my own business, when I feel someone goose me. I whipped around, ready to smack the shit out of the pervert who dared touch me, and found her laughing uproariously.)
Among my co-workers was a guy who had recently been transferred from LA to NY for the purpose of facilitating the relationship between IT and this major record label. We all ignored him because dude, he was from LA. He was the enemy.
In between popping Tums and gulping water, I reassured our unhappy client that we would review our recommendation and provide a full analysis to her, but that I believed the technology we had recommended would not only meet her boss’s needs, but it would exceed them. She calmed down and said thank you.
Apparently while I was out on maternity leave, she sung my praises to the enemy from LA. And apparently he worried that I wouldn’t come back from leave.
But I did, and he was no longer the enemy. His role had been clarified to all of us in NY, and his actions conveyed that he had no LA-based agenda. I was still a bit wary, but as time went on and I found that I couldn’t quibble with anything he said or did, I began to trust him.
He and I and another co-worker began to work together very closely on a variety of projects. I affectionately referred to them as my partners in crime. Through organizational changes and resulting power shifts, I found myself very well positioned. Although I knew who my friends and allies were, I never aligned myself with a particular faction (or worse, alienated myself from a particular faction). That is, I knew who had power, but I didn’t rub that knowledge in anyone’s face. Nor did I blow sunshine at those who had power. I did my job, did it well, and with a bit of luck, that got me quite far.
When I left for maternity leave with CJ, I had an office three doors down from the CIO. I had the right kind of attention from the right people. I had survived the really lean years in the music industry. And I had friends and allies in high places. I felt confident that when I returned from leave, I would pick up where I had left off. And so did my friends and allies.
The Friday before I was set to return from leave, Kyle flew to Denver for an interview. It went smashingly. He went house-hunting the next day before coming back to New Jersey.
I returned to work that Monday as scheduled. I unlocked my office door, left my Pump-in-Style on my desk, powered up my laptop, and pulled one partner in crime into the other partner’s office, closed the door, and dropped the bomb.
As I recall, their initial reaction was: “You BITCH!” Said in jest of course - that’s the sort of breaking chops that we always did, throughout the entire office - but with real disappointment as well.
The formal offer came in that week, and I called my director in LA to give him the news. He was disappointed too, but he understood.
During my final few weeks there, I surfed real estate sites and took calls from Kyle regarding the offers and counter-offers on our apartment and went out for Indian food nearly every day, with a little Greek and Thai mixed in for good measure. (Who knew if there would be good ethnic food in Denver?) All of my projects had already been carefully documented and transitioned prior to my leave, so there really wasn’t much to do work-wise.
It all happened quickly enough that I didn’t have time to get cold feet. I did come home from work one day and sighed that if I had returned to work BEFORE making the decision to move, I might not have agreed to it. I wasn’t wavering and I didn’t really mean it, but each day was full of reminders of why I loved my job.
My co-workers took me out for drinks one night that final week. They brought a cake along to the bar and bought me pints. I didn’t cry; I was having too much fun.
My last day at work, we went out for Indian food (again). I burned all of my files to CDs. I boxed up all the personal items in my office so that one of my partners in crime could send it to me. My other partner in crime took my employee badge and walked me out to the elevator. Again, I didn’t cry; I was on auto-pilot.
I haven’t been back yet, although I hope to plan a visit soon. I’ve exchanged e-mail sporadically with my partners in crime and a few others, and we’ve talked on the phone occasionally. There have been many organizational changes, including the dissolution of my former management structure, and it’s not certain that my position would have been retained. I’d like to think that my friends and allies would have found a place for me in the new structure, but I can’t be sure of that. I spent five years waiting in fear of the inevitable layoffs. They always came - usually right before the holidays - but they never included me.
I forgave my manager and my director (who, by the way, were both gay) for the threats they made regarding my job while I was pregnant with Tacy. I know they were being pressured by the HR director (who was female and married with children). I never discussed it with them again, but I never forgot either.
I forgave Dina for her lack of professionalism, but once she left the company (layoff victim), I never did speak to her again although I saw her at many social events over the years.
When I think about my old job, I’m reminded of Longfellow’s poem about the little girl with the curl:
There was a little girl
Who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead;
And when she was good
She was very, very good,
But when she was bad she was horrid.
When my job was good, it was very, very good. But when it was bad it was horrid.
Technorati tags: NY, LA, music industry, record labels, pregnancy discrimination, office politics
May 3rd, 2006 at 11:16 am
Wow, what a story! I love hearing about people’s jobs, particularly the politics and insider stuff you wouldn’t normally know about.
Sounds like you were exceptionally lucky to have found good solid friends/co-workers in an industry not know for loyalty.
And I have to say, you are yet another example of the fascinating women I’ve “met” via blogging. You guys make me feel positively dull by comparison!
May 3rd, 2006 at 11:55 am
Interesting background, Julie! I knew some of it, but not all of it. I can imagine how torn you did feel about leaving, though. I felt similarly when I left the energy industry. But I am so relieved I did.
Teresa
May 3rd, 2006 at 12:40 pm
What a long strange trip it’s been…
May 3rd, 2006 at 2:19 pm
Jeez… no wonder you had no words yesterday, you were saving them all to tell this story!
God Julie, you are a much bigger and stronger and braver woman than me. I would have fallen apart having to play politics like that. You are my hero.
May 3rd, 2006 at 3:38 pm
I loved this story, Julie. I understand the wierd line between being firm and friendly - I work in Government and it is a mans world baby.
Being working moms is no picnic. There are all the internal issues in every office - and you are trying to pump and have some kind of home life.
You did beautifully!
May 3rd, 2006 at 5:00 pm
I have to say I love hearing about office politics. I’ve been self-employed for so long I forget what it’s like working in an office environment, and I live vicariously through others. My husband works in a fairly large design studio, and I’m always saying, “Who cares what you’re working on - give me the dish!”
May 3rd, 2006 at 6:26 pm
Oh yeah, the fun of office politics. Even though I live it every day, it’s still interesting to hear from someone else. I admire you for standing up for yourself so much and earning the respect of your coworkers and management. That is no small accomplishment, indeed.
May 3rd, 2006 at 6:56 pm
good for you. i am not the litigious sort, either, but that would have sent me over the edge.
and, boy, does that job experience sound awesome! how did you have the energy to do that while pregnant?!?
i bow to you!
May 3rd, 2006 at 7:13 pm
Interesting story. Like Izzy said, sounds like you were very lucky.
May 3rd, 2006 at 7:52 pm
Wow Julie. That was fascinating! I didn’t know you used to live in Jersey (that’s where I’m from)… And it’s amazing how many women have been given hassles about their pregnancies. Sheesh. We really haven’t come very far.
May 3rd, 2006 at 8:18 pm
Great story. Office politics are difficult under the best of circumstances, but throw in a baby and they’re horrible. Good for you for leaving on your own terms.
May 3rd, 2006 at 9:39 pm
What TB said… I was thinking exactly the same!
May 4th, 2006 at 3:05 am
You could update Macchiavelli with this post.
I love stories about tough women who win out in the end.
May 4th, 2006 at 9:22 am
That place sounds utterly exhausting.
What a couple of shitboxes for telling you your job was gone. You should have sued the dickens out of them.
May 4th, 2006 at 10:10 am
That is such an interesting story. You took on so much, and then they tried to screw you. Sounds like you left just in time.
May 4th, 2006 at 10:18 am
Wow; sounds like a wild ride! You are awesome for being tactful & diplomatic despite being treated less than professionally in certain situations. I’m glad things worked out in the end!
I’m lucky in that my office *mostly* functions as a democracy, making joint decisions about hiring, taking on new clients, etc. The stress comes from other angles.
May 4th, 2006 at 1:25 pm
I agree with everyone here.. fascinating story about how you ended up where you ended up. And as a fellow non-native Coloradan, may I just say that the New York metro area’s loss is Colorado’s gain.
May 4th, 2006 at 1:37 pm
Oh, those crazy music industry types. About as schizophrenic as magazine publishers. (The link wasn’t working, so of course I’m desperate to know where they took you for your goodbye drink.)
Julie: You are so lucky you didn’t have time to think about leaving. The anticipation was the second worst part for me. The worst were the bazillion “goodbye” drinks, dinners, etc. I stopped agreeing to them because they were so depressing. In the Bird’s last music class I finally broke down and sobbed during the Goodbye Song. The other Moms must have thought I had lost my mind.
You did it right. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. Done.
May 4th, 2006 at 2:32 pm
I was completely engrossed in your story. Fascinating.
I think it is amazing how you were able to remain diplomatic without compromising yourself.
May 4th, 2006 at 3:07 pm
Good for you! Sounds like you are no worse for the wear-
May 4th, 2006 at 4:18 pm
Wow. As my mom used to say, thats quite a strong backbone youve got going on there.
(Please excuse my lack of apostrophes. Every time I try to use one, a very annoying “find” bar pops up at the bottom of my screen and prevents me from appearing at all educated. I really do know how to punctuate. Really.)
May 4th, 2006 at 4:52 pm
I loved reading this post. You are one strong, confident woman, and I admire you!
And I ran into a similar situation regarding discrimination against me when I was pregnant with Adam. Unbeliveable that it’s even an issue in the US today.
May 4th, 2006 at 7:38 pm
Wow. Thanks so much for sharing this. As Kristen said, we really haven’t come very far, in many respects. Sharing stories like this keeps us on our toes. And we need to be kept there.
May 4th, 2006 at 8:49 pm
Thank you for all the kind words. Although I’m no longer in a position to be “dooced”, I feel compelled to exercise some discretion when discussing the happenings of my former workplace. But I will gladly tell tales at BlogHer.
May 4th, 2006 at 9:22 pm
Good for you! That is a great story. It is never easy finding out who your real friends are at work, but when you do, it pays off.
Just out of curiousity though, are there good ethnic food in Denver?
May 7th, 2006 at 1:17 pm
Very interesting story - I loved reading every word.
It is telling as to your character, your ability to handle pressure and stand up for yourself, but also your occasional vulnerability.
No doubt there were many swirling currents each stage of the way your job progressed, I am thankful it ended on a good note even though it was hard to say goodbye. Interesting about the restructure situation given that it may have been a perfect time for you to leave! Hindsight twenty-twenty and all that
Of course the maternity leave issue made my stomach clench. It reminds me of how my then-employer expected that I would be attending a meeting just two weeks after my due date. On one hand, there is a desire to reassure others that becoming a mother won’t alter one’s commitment to work, but on the other hand, there is a desire to have additional flexibility and/or acknowledgement that one’s life just became tremendously more complex.
May 8th, 2006 at 10:52 pm
Great story, thanks for telling it. I wondered why you all moved to Denver!
It also fits with the theme that made me originally start my blog (although I long ago moved on….): how much women’s lives are dictated by the men in our lives. Who knew you would move to Denver for his work? I guess some women realized this; I never did.
And here I am in a tiny New Mexico science town, having left all my work opportunities and coworkers and connections behind. (Although, just as I found those, I’m finding others here…)