I don't talk about the specifics of my day job much on this blog. I'm not in the witness protection program or anything, it's just not relevant. My professional role in my workplace has nothing to do with my presence in the world as a writer, or those parts of my personal life which I expose here. I keep the two worlds separate — don't blog during the workday (duh, I am working), for example.
At the same time, I don't say anything there on my blog that I would mind anyone at work reading. My life is complex, interesting (to me, at least) and often amusing (again, to me, at least). Unfortunately someone at work didn't see it that way.
Late last week I won a major quality award at work. This happened while I was on vacation in San Francisco, and it's a pretty big deal. One of my co-workers apparently disagreed with my fitness for the award, because this past Monday during the executive staff meeting, somebody slipped into the business unit SVP's office (our CEO, basically) and left a folded copy of my vasectomy post [ jlake.com | LiveJournal ] on his chair. My co-worker very helpfully highlighted my blog address (which is my name) in green marker at the top and bottom of each page, in case he missed the point. The printout was unsigned, the leaving in the big boss's office done in secret.
I can only assume this was meant to make me look bad. Certainly no one of good will wishing to share something funny would sneak it into the big boss's office anonymously. The post talks about my reproductive health, and cracks jokes about sex and masturbation. Would I talk that way in the office? Of course not. But that post wasn't made in a work context, and wasn't intended for my professional audience.
As it happens, the big boss was annoyed at whoever left it. My boss was livid at the fact that someone was sneaking around trying to undermine one of her people. We talked about it today, and my response was to simply go public with the issue. (Of which she strongly approved, by the way.) I'm not going to hold back now because someone I work with turns out to be a petty sneak.
To my co-worker, whoever you are: If you believe my personal conduct and self-expression outside of the office is professionally inappropriate, take it up with me, or your manager, or my manager, or the HR department. But have the balls to put your name on a complaint about me talking about having my balls trimmed.
I'm not mad at you. In fact, I feel sorry for you. Your world must be pretty wretched if anonymous grade school sneaking is the only way you can see to better it. You might ask your pastor or your therapist or your life partner or your boss if you handled this situation well. I think you'd be surprised at the answer you receive.
You're certainly not going to shut me up. And you're not going to get me fired. I don't back down in the face of bullying, especially not anonymous bullying. Neither do the people who just gave me that award, and have kept me employed for the past half-decade and more.
As for everyone else who reads this blog, and the rest of my work, know this: I do not compromise. You get the real, raw, honest me. I can do no more, and I owe every one of you no less.
|Originally published at jlake.com.|