As I write my first post, I hear an NPR storytelling program.
I’ve a voice, too. And it’s 58 years old, and very angry today.
An older woman has to be the loneliest of all. Used. Forgotten. Scorned. Misunderstood. Disposed of.
Does that not justify my anger? Worse, I live in Cleveland, a horrible place to look for or hold a job.
But wait, there’s more. Any woman anywhere knows there’s a price to being assertive. I’ve paid repeatedly for whistle-blowing, asking for support, calling out discrimination of ALL kinds, and more.
But the one thing for which I’ve most been mercilessly punished: speaking up when epic pathological female coworkers have done others in, including me.
There’s Linda at an ACT learning center who loudly pronounced her personal problems in front of students. Linda even barged into private tutoring rooms while I worked with students. The boss fired me for documenting Linda’s disruptive behavior. And for a serious medical condition.
There’s Denise in legal at the HQ of that paint co. who has “covered the earth” who made and three others so miserable they walked off midday. I wasn’t so lucky. Denise had legal protection after 10 years prior suing the giant company, so when HR got wind that I was being abused, they pulled me into a meeting and sympathetically explained they knew about Denise’s sustained harassment, but couldn’t intervene because our manager was in good with the CEO. I just turned 40 and Denise was bad mouthing me so bad and out loud in the common area of the legal dept that a coworker reported it to me. Denise looked like a rotten pear adorned by a brillo pad. No, she was white. So don’t even go there. Though I can attest to at least three jobs and one popular Cleveland school of law where I was a victim of reverse discrimination, including the last one where I worked as peer recovery staffer at a sober house. She, too, left a trail of carnage of at least four others in rapid succession before my appearance. Yes, supervisor allowed her to abuse residents and violate housing laws while firing any one like me who’d try to bring her deeds to his apathetic, reverse discrimination doorstep. F him.
Then, there’s the ad company’s co-owner daughter so psychologically incapable of even basic self-control, she rammed through a closed door with a sign that read, “Do not disturb. Working on copy deadline.” The manager got permission from her father to fire her, but ran like a coward. The following nine months, Jennifer resorted to medical condition discrimination, seething and hateful skulking, and passive-aggressively eliminating my accounts so I had no work.
Then there’s the half dozen senior caregiver agencies so callous, greedy, and hateful, they’ve allowed clients – almost always females – fire me when I’ve tried to help or protect animals.
These women clients and coworkers are just a few of my more than 40-year working experiences in Cleveland.
What they all have in common is a coward male boss.
Nightmare Employee Stories 