And Now the Rest of the Story - Speaking Truth to Power

I guess I'll finish off the Home Sweet Home saga since I've found writing about it very theraputic. Plus the fact that I did a radical thing this past week and DIDN'T visit Home Sweet Home...the first time I've gone that long without visiting since I worked there. It's given me a nice sense of distance.

OK. I left off in December and we'd just been outsourced and were awaiting the axe to fall.

Well.

Here is where it seems a pseudointellectual like me really doesn't belong in the blue-collar world. Have you ever seen the bumper sticker that says "Mean People Suck"? That's my philosophy. And I don't suffer jerks kindly. I've been through multiple bad job situations (I REALLY need to write about that sometime) and I've lost the ability to keep my mouth shut.

You see, the major way that The Healthy Foods Group keeps their costs down is through what one Home Sweet Home administrator called "pretty strict time management." As in, you're in trouble if you punch out past your scheduled time.

One problem that I know I have is my work pace. I have this bizarre perfectionistic streak so any job I do I want to do well. Really well. And I'll take time to do it. This first became apparent in college when my future brother-in-law hired me to clean his house prior to his wedding. He was flabbergasted by how long it took, but I bet his baseboards have never been cleaner! Tell me to wipe out a tray cart and I will crawl inside to clean it. I actually got reported to my supervisor for taking too long on this!! If I'm on dishwashing detail I want those dishes to come out clean the first time, so I really take the time to rinse. (Except at home [poor Tom!], but that's another story.) If I'm in the dining room being a hostess I will take the time to ensure that everyone has something they want to eat, and since it is their home I never felt it was appropriate to rush them out so that I could clear the tables. I got better and better at managing my time for the kitchen duties, but I was almost always late (by about 15 minutes) everytime I worked in the dining room.

So the first order from the new company was basically punch out on time or else. I noticed that we almost never saw Rat Bastard at Home Sweet Home in the kitchen, and he certainly never spent time in the dining room. Therefore it appeared that they were going to decide which staff to keep, probably, based on time records alone, not whether the job was being done well or not. And there were people who did not do the job well at all, but always punched out on time.

One bad day at work, and they were all becoming bad days, Rat Bastard DID happen to wander into the kitchen. My opening gambit to him was "And when are you going to become a company we would WANT to work for?" Needless to say the rest of the conversation did not go well. I pointed out to him that he had no idea what I did and I didn't think it was right to be judged by the time clock alone. At some point he said that if this were a Ford plant and people weren't getting their work done there was a problem. He tried to back-peddle quickly be saying "This isn't a Ford plant, of course...", but the damage was already done. I got his point of view. Loud and clear.

At some point a co-worker came up to ask a question, and I'd had it with Rat Bastard. Later on, the co-worker, Chantay, commented "Please don't act like that while I'm standing next to you." I guess I had started yelling and pointing and making something of a spectacle. I had reached the point where continued conversation with RB seemed pointless, so I told him (none too politely, I'm sure) to stop talking to me and answer Chantay's questions. His lips just kept flapping so I told him to shut up, and I walked away.

The funny thing? The few other people who were in the kitchen LOVED it.

I did not get fired, but I did get to have a meeting with RB and one of the secondary administrators, Greta. I had prepared myself. I wrote down my talking points. All I really wanted to say was that I wasn't happy with the way they were treating us, and since they clearly were intent on running the kitchen differently could they PLEASE give us a hint as to what the new schedule was going to look like and if they wanted things done differently would they help us?

Only it didn't go that smoothly at first. I noted that RB had a tendency to talk over me, which lead to me raising my voice until I told him to please LET ME FINISH. Greta sat back and pretty much watched the whole exchange. When RB left to take a phone call, I told Greta that I was pretty certain that I would be fired, and I requested permission to volunteer at Home Sweet Home when that time came. She said of course I could.

Overall the rest of the conversation didn't go too badly. RB assured me that they would help with the transition, they had plans to make the dining room program better than ever, blah, blah, blah...

As I'd mentioned in an earlier post, the kitchen was not a happy place to be. The holidays were coming and no one's job was secure. The amount of back-biting that started was pretty intense as people tried to establish themselves before the anticipated staff cuts. If someone called off we weren't allowed to call anyone in so we often wound up working short, which didn't help the stress level.

Neither my husband nor I are from Oberlin, so we usually have to travel on holidays to see family. Mine was not a good job to have for such a person since weekend and holiday times were necessary work days. In November I had switched working Thanksgiving for Christmas Day with a co-worker so that we could travel for Thanksgiving. I assured myself that working on Christmas day wasn't going to be that bad. I didn't have to work until the afternoon, and it would be time and a half pay. The young woman I switched with also thought she could New Year's Day for me so I figured we could travel again after Christmas. All was well.

Except that nothing ever works out that easily. My co-worker changed her plans so I worked both Christmas Day and New Year's Day which put a monkey wrench in the plan to visit my family after Christmas. But I just changed my plans and shortened the visit (no small feat when it's a 9 hour drive) because I NEVER called off. I simply do not believe in calling off unless I am genuinely ill (which oddly enough I never was). It's not fair to my co-workers or the residents. I worked on my daughter's birthday. I worked on Father's Day even though we already had tickets for all 4 of us to go to a baseball game. I worked on New Year's Day, again soothing myself with the thought that at least I'd get time and a half.

I remember quite clearly the day I found out that since we were probationary employees we were not entitled to holiday pay. I called Tom at home and asked him to give me a reason why I shouldn't just walk off the job right then. I didn't, although I can't remember him giving me a good reason not to. I was doing dishes that day, and I remember slamming two saucers together so hard that one broke. It felt kinda good. When a coffee cup came out of the machine still dirty I smashed it on the floor. Oops. I think I'd heard that the Healthy Foods Group would be responsible for the dishes.

At this point I was angry. Another problem I have is that I will take a lot before I blow my stack, but once I do I'm the Incredible Hulk minus the green skin and ripped clothes. ("Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.")

A word here about impotent rage. It's a very dangerous emotion and I can see how it pushes people to do outrageous things. I mean, you can rage against the machine all you want to, but the bottom line is THE UNIVERSE DOESN'T REALLY CARE. So what? People get outsourced every day and what I was experiencing was normal business practice. That only makes a person (me) want to lash out all the harder. It's like the Whos in Whoville screaming "We're here, we're here, we're here!" I just wanted it known that an injustice was being done AND IT'S NOT RIGHT!!

I had to put a little thought into this, however. Breaking things would not help my cause, and I'd only wind-up looking a little imbalanced if I did something like writing "Rat Bastard" with soap in his car windows. I needed to hit them where it would hurt without actually hurting anybody.

I came up with the perfect solution. On my break I found a blank piece of paper and wrote: "Did you know that the dietary department isn't getting holiday pay for Christmas or New Years? YOU'RE DEPARTMENT COULD BE NEXT. Organize, or start looking." I taped this on the back of the staff-room door and got back to work.

My immediate supervisor was upset, but I didn't deny making the sign. She pointed out that the new company wasn't REQUIRED to pay holiday pay anyway and probably told me not to do it again. At the very least it was clear she expected me not to do such a thing again.

But she left before I did and it was a Friday evening. One thing the new company had done for her was give her weekends off. (They also put her on a salary and THEN told her that 60 hour weeks were to be expected.) ANYWAY...on my next break, after she left, I borrowed some paper and tape from the nursing station and made 3 signs: one pointing out the absence of holiday pay, one pointing out that all dietary staff had lost their seniority and wouldn't get vacation time for a year, and another pointing out that the dietary staff had to pay the full COBRA for their health benefits for the 90 day probationary period. All three signs said "You're department could be next, organize or start looking." I drew little googly eyes in the o's of "looking" for emphasis. One sign went on the inside of the break room door and two by the time clock. I made sure they were where residents would not see them and I was very careful (unlike some staff) about not discussing any of our difficulties in their presence. I figured that it would be Monday before anybody of authority would notice the signs.

Also...what did I do that was so bad? Was this really worse than gossiping about what was going on in the break room? We'd heard rumors that two other departments were slated to be out-sourced and I was already telling those staffs to get out their jars of vaseline and bend over. Sorry. That was crude. But metaphorically very true.

LONG STORY SHORTER: The signs were discovered Saturday morning and someone told. My supervisor asked me on the phone, very wearily (the poor thing had a stomach virus) "Did you put up more signs?" I confirmed that I had, but also verified with her that I hadn't said anything that wasn't true. She thought I had finally done it this time. I told her I wouldn't hold it against her if she had to fire me. She didn't, but warned me that the chief administrator, Jackie, was very upset.

I was in an interesting place at this point. This job, for me, was never really meant to be permanent. I wanted a paycheck and practice getting out of the house regularly. But I wasn't supporting anyone and figured I was the person who could best survive being fired of all my co-workers. In a way I had nothing to lose so I delighted in yanking managment's chain. And the feedback I got from my co-workers was overwhelmingly positive.

The Quakers have a great expression for this - speaking truth to power.

Monday morning I called Jackie's office to say that I would come in early because I thought she'd want to talk to me. I didn't want to waste worktime on the matter. I came in an hour or so early and hung out in the break room reading so I'd be there in case she wanted to talk. I had no sooner punched in and headed to my dishwashing post when Helen, the supervisor, came up and said Jackie wanted to talk to me.

It's a bit of a walk from the kitchen to the administrative offices. I could almost hear Darth Vader's theme from Star Wars as we walked down the hall, up the ramp, and up the narrow stairs. Helen and I didn't even look at each other.

One thing I remember from the meeting was how beige it all was. Jackie was at a big wooden desk with a beige leather chair with her rather beige hair and hazel eyes and may have even been wearing light brown. It was all very beige.

Boy was she angry. The funny thing was that I at this point was rather calm and I still didn't really think I had done anything particularly wrong. She asked me how I could do such a thing and I calmly replied because I was angry. She thought that what I had done was poisonous for staff morale and she couldn't have anyone pouring vinegar in the pudding. I politely pointed out that I'd been working in that pudding and it sucked. I believe those were my exact words.

Turns out that my signs were not entirely accurate. At some point The Healthy Foods Group had decided to pay holiday pay for one holiday, but not both. I was glad to hear that. Jackie had also negotiated with them that Home Sweet Home would pay 25% of the COBRA and Healthy Food Group 25%, so covered employees were really only paying 50% of the cost of continuing their insurance. I thanked her for that, but pointed out that I knew of one cook who was going without insurance because she couldn't afford it. Home Sweet Home also decided to pay so that employees who'd been eligible for at least 2 weeks of vacation time would get one week paid, and people who'd been eligible for one week would get two days. I told her I didn't know that and thanked her for her caring. I still didn't apologize, however.

I also found out that I had actually violated one of the rules in the Healthy Food Group's employee handbook by posting my signs. I looked it up later and, sure enough, they have a rule against posting any handbills or notices while on work time. Although technically I was on my break. ANYWAY - Rat Bastard had offered to fire me and, interestingly, Jackie had said no. I wasn't going to quit, either. I pointed out (and this was when I started choking up, darn it) that I'd never called off, never been late, and had been nothing but a resident advocate.

Her phone kept ringing, and I was aware that my work was backing-up downstairs, so I mentioned that perhaps she had better things to do with her time. She reluctantly agreed, but not after warning me that my signs were going in my personnel file and and that such action again would certainly cause me to be terminated. She mentioned that if a union ever came in the "For Sale" sign would be going on Home Sweet Home, and, hey, it's called work and it's SUPPOSED to be hard. I had the presence of mind to let that comment go.

It was a lot like being chewed out by the school principal (I think. That never actually happened to me), and as I walked back to the kitchen I was strangely elated. I hadn't apologized, I still had a job, and I'd just been paid to be yelled at!!

As mentioned before, however, I was aware that I was probably in the most financially stable position of any of my co-workers. I was contemplating quitting, and had even told my supervisor as much (she was thinking of quitting, too), but I just couldn't. I couldn't give The Healthy Foods Group that satisfaction. I also was addicted to the paycheck. It comes in handy, ya know? So I told my supervisor that I wanted to be a PRN (as needed) worker only. I figured if they were really going to cut the staff to the bone they would need SOMEONE to cover absences. But this way the people who really needed hours would get them.

That was towards the end of January. The funny thing is, I haven't been called yet! I had my suspicions about that since call-offs were a pretty common occurrence. And I've since heard, from a very reputable source, that the supervisor has been told not to call me in to work. This was verified for me when another part-timer quit, and my poor supervisor came in on her weekend to do dishes. Hey, at least they don't need to pay her overtime, right? And I'm SUCH a troublemaker...

I've still been stopping by once or twice a week to visit some of my favorite residents, and when Home Sweet Home staffers ask me if I'm still working there I tell them that I don't know how to answer that question. I recently verified that I'm still considered a PRN employee, but I think it's going to have to be an awfully cold day before they call me. I'm still not giving them the satisfaction of quitting, but I've decided I can't go back. I can't work for those people. I just don't want them to know that...yet.

So here I sit blogging away.

I miss the paycheck and the sense of purpose.