Of Cultural Norms and Ridiculous Gender Standards

  Today, I wanted to focus on a particularly ridiculous piece of news I came across recently. A court in Iowa ruled that it was legal for a dentist to fire his dental assistant for being "irresistible." Apparently her clothing and behavior was deemed inappropriate, by the dentist or possibly his wife, and he anticipated that he might experience an infidelity in his marriage if they continued to work together. I find this ruling so typically midwest, and so incredibly offensive to women everywhere.
    First of all, the woman worked there for ten years. If she had been acting or dressing inappropriately, it seems such an issue would have had precedent. A jealous spouse or a wandering spouse are no reason to fire someone who has performed their duties correctly and loyally for such a long time. Granted, I don't know the full details of the case or have photographs or anything to judge whether the woman was actually in the wrong, but I'm going to speak to the principle of the matter.
    It is not the fault of one person for another's insecurities or inability to remain loyal to their partner. If this woman were coming to work in low cut tops or really short skirts, see-through blouses or bending over more obviously than is necessary to pick up a file or a pencil, that would be one thing, but it's a dentist's office. I was under the impression that most dental assistants, as well as hygienists and dentists themselves, wear scrubs. At least they do at my dentist's office. It's the administrative people, the file clerks and receptionists, who are supposed to wear the business professional or business casual attire which might offer more freedom and opportunity to dress inappropriately.
    The frustrating thing is, once again, it's the word of one person in a position of power versus the word of another person who is in a position to be fired. Sexual harassment is supposed be under a strict "no tolerance" policy at pretty much every job in the country. It should make no different whether the harasser is a supervisor or not, and yet, office politics and issues like gender bias seem to always place the blame on the person lowest on the totem pole.
    "Oh, s/he dressed too provocatively, I couldn't help it," the higher up person says. You know what? No. If you have no self-control, that's your problem. You don't get to get away with this just because you can't keep it in your pants. And you know what, spouse/partner of no-self-control person? This won't be the last time this happens. You can demand they fire every good-looking employee in the office and they will always find a way back into the gutter. Firing others doesn't address whatever the real problem is in the relationship, and there usually is a relationship problem if the spouse is requesting the firing.
    Speaking up about harassment in the workplace is important, whether you're a man or woman, though unfortunately, it is often women who experience it. Whether your coworker or boss comments in an offensive or inappropriate way how nicely those jeans fit you, whether they make sexually or otherwise inappropriate jokes, whether they look at porn on their computer when you happen to show up for a meeting--whatever the case may be, it's important to let the right people (HR or whoever is in charge of enforcing the policy) know about it.
    If you put up with it when you're uncomfortable with the words, attention, or actions, even if they're not particularly offensive to you, you're just letting the negative environment propagate. If it makes you a narc, so be it. You have to do what you feel is right, regardless of politics or the ridiculous possibility that you may lose your job in the process. I say "ridiculous" because coming forward with something like this should never cause you concern for your job security. It's ridiculous that things still work that way in the 21st century.
    You are entitled to a safe, harassment-free, and healthy work environment. Your job may still suck, your coworkers still may not pull their weight, and you may never get that ergonomic chair or mouse you requested, but at least you don't have to put up with demeaning or offensive attitudes when you're just trying to earn a living.

Fight for your right
to a healthy work environment.

Overwhelmed But Flattered

  I was taken to an almost impromptu lunch yesterday (meaning I didn't know about it until that morning) and offered what might be considered a promotion. Good news, right? I was scared shitless the entire time they were talking about it. It felt kind of like an ambush, as I had no idea that that's what the lunch would be about. My coworker and I were both taken out and offered a similar position, added responsiblity, added stress, and a pay increase, though no mention was made as to how much that would be.
    My one year review was today, it was positive, and I did get a raise (yay!). But my concern was not even really how much the raise would have been for. It was more the added stress and added responsiblity that I was not sure I was ready for. It would be additional content management for our new site, which I was expecting, and the possibility of training an intern and supervising them directly, both of which I know I can handle. The thing I was wavering on had to do with the "project management" thing, which was the title that came with the promotion. Part of this position would have included me having to manage my coworkers' tasks and check on their progress on those tasks and projects, on top of doing my own task and time management. I don't mind checking in with people when my bosses are out of town, but I wouldn't want to do it as part of my regular job. I can't bug people about their jobs. I can't be the nag. I can't write on the whiteboard what they're supposed to do. And I can't sit there and tell them it has to be done by Friday because, honestly, who am I? Unless I can fire them if it's not done, who am I? Their coworker, who is younger than most of them, that is trying to keep them on track? I'm fairly certain that at least two of them would feel extremely pissed off about me in that position, not jealous, necessarily, but angry that a person of my age and experience--which is still pretty limited if you measure it by time--was put into a position of this caliber.
    We're a small company, and I've known for a long time that they've wanted to put somebody else in a semi-supervisory position to free up my bosses' time. I've had a job for one year. All the experince I have, the majority has come during this one year. I just don't feel ready to do all the work that that new position would have required. I don't feel like I have the personality to manage that many people's tasks. I can manage myself, and maybe one other person who would be doing the same kind of work as me, but five additional people? Plus my own workload managing content? It was just too overwhelming.
    Don't get me wrong, I was flattered as hell, but intimidated more. I know how much confidence my bosses have in me, and while it's appreciated, I know that a job like that would not just put me close to a mental breakdown, it might actually CAUSE one. So, without mental health benefits, or general wellness benefits (anti-stress benefits, to be precise, massages and the like), I cannot sign on for a job where I have no idea what the workload or stress load is going to be, only that it will be more. I am already stressed and I already work hard. More seems like I might be setting myself up to fail at this point. And maybe in a few months, once I get my bearing with this new site, I might feel up to taking on a little more, but until then, I'd like to have some idea of what I'm getting into. And in the meantime, I'm very happy with what I'm doing now, and I look forward to taking on the new challenges within that particular aspect of my job.
    I did get a positive review, which I was very pleased about. In light of the fact that it was my one year review, I went out of my way to put together a list of all the major projects, tasks, and writing assignments I've completed over the past year. There were a lot. Even I was surprised. I have written so much, and completed a fair number of major projects as well, and it was kind of cool to see them all in one place, rather than spread out over so many weekly activity reports. It was sort of as a defense against any poor performance things that might have come up, though thankfully, none did.
    It's strange to think I've been at the same company, and to think about how far I've come from what I was doing this time last year to now, but it's cool. I've never had a job this long, and I'm looking forward to seeing what else I can accomplish in the next year.

Happy work birthday to me... Happy work birthday to me... :)

What are some of your accomplishments in the past year? Either work-related or in your personal life.

Do you have any goals for the next 12 months?

Tell me about it in the comments below.

Working for the Weekend

  For the first time, I was asked to work this weekend. I didn't have to go in to the office or get anything done by a weekend deadline, but it's more the why I had to work this weekend than the fact that I had to at all that bothers me.
    I work hard, and I put a large part of myself into the company. I get stress headaches, my eyes get dry and bloodshot, I get back pain sitting in a chair all day, and I strain my brain staring at a computer screen for 8 hours a day. I'm not complaining. I'm just saying: I put a lot of time, effort, and both mental and physical strain on myself at my job. I do this willingly. I work hard, and I take pride in the work that I do. I don't half-ass it, and I don't cut corners because that's just not how I was raised to do things.
    So when I am asked to work over the weekend to redo an assignment that was originally assigned to someone else, I get a little perturbed. The assignment was completed by this person, who shall remain nameless, but it was not up to snuff. I will leave the reason for why it was not up to snuff out of this, because it is a really poor excuse for poor work, but I will say that, not only should someone not turn in work like this in the first place, but they shouldn't be in such a state as to turn in work like this.
    If you are not able to do what is assigned to you, you probably should take the day off until you are ready to come back and adequately do your job. I do my job. I don't like doing other people's jobs for them. I will do it when asked, because I figure, if I'm asked to do it, that makes it part of my job. But I also figure that if I have to do someone else's job for them, that makes them a liability rather than an asset.
    It's one thing if someone has pneumonia or has a relative in the hospital--those are reasonable, good excuses. And in those cases, I'm fine stepping up and taking on a little extra work while they're out. But poor work quality while you should be in fine working capacity, leading to someone else having to fix your mistakes, is not ok.
    This is a job, not a class. You don't get to take it over if you fail a paper or test. Separate your personal life from your work life. Don't air your dirty laundry in public. And if you can't do your job, don't do it badly and leave it to someone else to fix it. I'm telling this to you, dear readers, because unfortunately, my aversion to confrontation will prevent me from telling it to the person whose job I had to do this weekend.

Welcome to Adulthood. Failures Will Be Shot. Or maybe just fired.

Have you ever cleaned up somebody else's mess at work? Did you confront them about it? 

Leave a comment, and feel free to use phony names to retain anonymity.

These Vagabond Shoes

  I was torn as to whether I should write about the quandary of an apartment search I'm still having, or whether to write about a piece of nostalgia I experienced recently. Since I think I will probably manage to wax a little more poetic with the latter, that's where we're headed.
    The little piece of nostalgia I experienced happened at the movie theater last weekend, where I saw 4, count 'em 4, movies. One of which was Friends with Benefits, which takes place in New York City. I had no idea of this as I entered the theater, considering they played up the Hollywood sign scene in the previews so much, but I was elated when I discovered it took place in Old New York. While it doesn't evince the "New York State of Mind" quality that some movies do, When Harry Met Sally or pretty much any Ed Burns directed movie, it prickled at my nostalgia nonetheless. A few years ago, though now it seems much more distant than that, I was going to move to new york. I was going to move there after I finished high school, go to college there, become a big-city girl, find my dream job, fall in love, and publish one of my damn novels if it was the last thing I did.
    Obviously, things didn't quite pan out that way. I stayed in state for college. I have a good job, but not the job I imagined having once I was college-graduated and big-dream bound--publishing, advertising, law office, basically somewhere where you wear a suit and high heels and carry a briefcase and drink martinis after work at happy hour. I live in what I would classify as a large town, as opposed to a world-renowned metropolitan city. I fell in love when I was seventeen (it was a very good year), and I am still unpublished, except for the musings and ramblings I post here at Insistent and Persistent.
    The world sure looks different now compared to when I was 15. I can't imagine having such a competitive job and wearing high heels every day. But I still imagine what my life would be like if I had done what the 15-year-old version of myself wanted me to do. I would probably be living in a crappy apartment, making more money than I am now--but because of the housing costs in Manhattan, it wouldn't really feel like I was making more money. I would probably be reading and watching a lot of movies, which is much of what I do in my spare time here. I would be alone, because I'm afraid of going out by myself to meet people. I wouldn't be friends with my neighbors, or hanging out and getting to know the bartenders and the regulars at a local watering hole. I'm way too shy for that. And considering the types of neighbors I might have, not getting to know them might be for the best.
    It's interesting to think about where you thought you'd be and where you ended up by that age. Things definitely don't work out the way you expected them to. Ever. But I always wonder if that's because life gets screwed up and derailed from time to time, throwing a wrench in your perfect, if not perfectly thought out, plans, or if it's really because you never had the balls to try something terrifying like moving to a city where you don't know anyone and trying, not just to survive, but to succeed.
    I think it's probably a little bit of both--we all know how indecisive i can be, and this is no exception. I think if I put the effort into looking for a job there, I could get one. It might take me a while, but I think I could do it. The apartment might be tougher, but I'd figure something out, even if it meant, god forbid, living in Jersey for a few months. But, we come to the "if it ain't broke" adage in which we reason that: I already have a job, I have a place to stay even if it isn't ideal, I have a relationship, and I'm making it on my own, for the most part. Why would I give all this up for a shot at some pipe-dream nostalgic fancy that's lingered on for eight years? (Eight--god that makes me feel old.)
    The fact is, I wouldn't. Not now. If one of those things seriously fell into disarray, I might revisit the idea. But my life, despite all the complaining I do, is actually going pretty well. The "grass is greener" ideology only applies when the grass on this side of the fence is no longer green, as opposed to when it's green, but not as lush and deliciously deep green as the grass on the other side of the fence.
    So, New York, you'll have to wait. Maybe someday I will meet you again and take you by storm, dazzling you and all your big-wig, pompous, New-Yorker-reading, nicotine-saturated echelon with my brilliance. But for now, I will daydream and write and imagine that you are still as beautiful and chaotic and interesting as you were the last time I saw you all those years ago.

If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere.

Grow Up! Or Keep What Childishness Is Left...

  That's directed at me, not you. Speaking profanity loudly while strangers are in the next room at your office is generally frowned upon. Technically we got away with it (I did not act alone this time), but it's not "professional". While we do work with some less than "family friendly" sites where I work, and profanity is a veritable part of working with those sites, censoring or at least talking a little more quietly, is probably something I should do being in the position I'm in.
    However, I suck at censoring when I'm around people I usually don't have to censor myself with, i.e. boys. Swearing like a sailor is something I've done for a really long time because I spend so much time around guys who swear like sailors. I will censor around children--no problems with that whatsoever. But around adults, it seems silly to me. If you have delicate sensibilities, you're probably in the wrong place, hanging out with the wrong crowd. I swear, and while I probably overdo it a lot of the time (and occasionally in inappropriate places and/or at inappropriate times), I think they're just expressive words, however vulgar some people deem them to be.
    There are a lot of words I don't like but I don't get upset when people say them (e.g. Michelle Bachman, tuna salad, bacon-wrapped anything, anything related to bowel movements, etc.). These are all things some people talk about that I really don't care for, but I'm not going to throw a fit and demand people omit stuff they think is important just because I would rather talk about something else. I'll just see if I can change the subject to something less disgusting, or if all else fails, I'll go talk to someone else.
    We're human beings. We're not perfect. I certainly am not. And when in Rome, I will probably do as the Romans do, unless it involves dangerous or illegal acts or substances. So, around a bunch of testosterone-laden dudes all day, I will swear, and the normal social etiquette that I exert in social situations among other types of people--people like my mom, my boss, or my niece--will stay in the background, and the dirty-mouthed 15-year-old kid I still am on occasion resurfaces. Unfortunately, Orbit gum does not literally remove profane vocabulary from your mouth. Only some bacteria. Unlike the commercials. I've tried it.
    So, I'm not really sure how to evaluate what happened. Profanity in the workplace is unprofessional, but, due to the profanity-involving work-related topic that was being discussed, it seems that maybe there's no need to apologize. On the other hand, maybe this is what you get for putting a 15-year-old in the body of a 23-year-old in a slightly higher responsibility level job. Maturity and professionalism are not something I can really put on for 9 hours a day. Eventually, my silly, uncensored, inappropriate sense of humor and mindset pops back out and makes an ass out of me. Opinions welcome. But no, I will not share any further details about this incident.

I don't think saying 'bullshit' is any less expressive 

than saying something phony like 'Charmed, I'm sure'.