the discreet charm of the bourgeoisie: PART II

                                     

                                            I'm Tired of Being the Angry Black Woman.
                                        Paula Akpan and Harriet Evans portrait project,
                                      Hudson Valley Centre for Contemporary Art, 2014

The modern age pulled a clever trick. We don't have to deal with difficult people at work in person anymore. In-your-face-antics can now be in an email or on a Zoom! 

Since June, I was having a hard time coping with the mean consultants who communicate like corporate pit bosses. Lots of NOs and RIGHT NOW, TODAYs. There are two villains to this story:  Hagatron and her protegee, the Blue Meanie.

You made a mistake. We all make mistakes. Figure out what went wrong and learn from it. Have a great weekend! 

That was Hagatron to me for putting the wrong checks in an envelope. This is what I call psychological terror.  After a lifetime of American women being shitty, competitive, and shady I became - wait for the 21st century term - triggered by embedded trauma. What such communication conveyed to me is this person can be abusive and arrogant. She didn't have to cc several other people on something so utterly superfluous. That was intentional to embarass me. Sigh. 

She hates me because I'm black! Boo hoo.  No, no that's not quite it. She's not used to dealing with smart black women who are cuter than her. I'm not special. I'm just talking cold, hard facts! Twice the Hagatron dished a microaggression at me - about my ( younger ) age and my hair. 

Blue Meanie sent me condescending messages as if they were running the show, not providing a service. 

I'll walk you through the process so you can do it yourself. 

I'm not in kindergarten, heaux. 

It had been like this for weeks with these two. Other colleagues got hit, even when asking for legit clarity about the ( half-assed, half-baked ) workflow that they created.  Others, who had years of institutional knowledge and integrity, were being treated like trash. I don't doubt these mean women may be good at the numbers, but they were bad to other people. I'm not good at shitty people. Keep pushing me and I'm gonna blow like Kurtis. 

Who are these ill mannered hacks? I wondered. I couldn't find any online reviews about their service. I think the elder Hagatron is trying to help the protegee Blue Meanie get her business off the ground. Yeah, you gotta wake up real early with the rooster with me, ladies. One of my favorite words in the English language is discernment. 

Eventually I spoke up. Their whole schematic was not well thought out or scaled to learn what the arts organization did or how it was structured. They were so trifling that I could tell in one thread, with another colleague, that they didn't know a backend process she did. She got the snap back with '....that is not your responsibility. ' That's arrogance and the arrogant, like the insecure, can be dangerous. 

Case in point, their own errors get the laissez-faire response. If anyone on staff makes an error well, see above for the abrasive touche. Worse case scenario, you get the bitch slap in several paragraphs.

I tried twice to do payroll without much guidance or context. I emailed the younger Blue Meanie several times with questions. No response. They both kept odd schedules, Zooms by day and email by night like capitalist villains. That's not a sustainable practice for anyone. The next morning, I got the bitch-slap in a rude, long form email ( sent after hours ), that read as though the Blue Meanie needed therapy or a vacation. Hitting someone else with your own shit is quite lowdown.

At the baseline, that was unprofessional and bullying. I don't report to the Blue Meanie, but the colored chick is an easy target. That email was meant to engage me in a subservient response, to apologise and acquiesce. For what? Trying to do her goddamn job? 

I responded with silence. That trick leaves the person's bullshit dangling into a void of the ridiculous. Reading that email, I fell into a state of rage and despair that this country is hopeless; that even the most mediocre among us will come at us to assert dominance.

When the new Sheriff came to town, I spoke up. We don't have to pull up to that bullshit anymore! Their work was getting delegated to me and I wasn't hired for that. I wasn't even asked directly if I was interested or if I had the skill set for it. I found this out in a staff meeting. Then in another email, ' All HR goes to Lisa.'

HR who? HR Puff n Stuff? Could ya clue a sister in as to what your deadbeat plans are? Who exactly is running this clown circus? 

This is America
Don't catch you slippin' now
Don't catch you slippin' now
Look what I'm whippin' now
This is America (woo)

Childish Gambino, This is America, 2018

There are things I enjoy about my job particularly working in the arts with a small group of other art nerds. I enjoy exploring the theater district and watch humanity pass by. When we have surplus of a thing, I bring donations to a Glide outreach center - Cheerios, energy bars, leftover lunches. Most people on this side of town, living in the streets, are black. Everyone I work with is white. They are a solid group of good people; a mix of artists and intellectuals devoted to the arts. A few even deferred their salary during the pandemic and worked for free, so staff and artists could get paid. Granted they were older and could afford it, but that's class act character right there. To exhibit such grace and support is rare. I was touched when I heard about that.

The accountants however were bullies and I don't respond to bully ass shit. I default to thinking of who I come from through history and they had no choice. The crap, accusatory email will exist forever. Silence is a kind of self-regulation. I shared that email with the Sheriff. I will not suffer treatment like that at work while my life as a black person in America is being compromised. Look at how our protections under the law are being chipped away.  A close friend in Europe and I had a text chat recently: 

" It's like there is a fracture in society.' He wrote. That fracture is neo-fascism. Conspiracy theories are so awful from The Great Replacement to something about the world's elite planning a global Jewish takeover.  If I were to even try and investigate such hyperbole, I would succumb to despair.  I imagine myself and others, like the Children of Ham, being rounded up for extermination such as in A Handmaid's Tale. I'm aware, but I'm not going to do submit to that. I focus on art, music, and beauty instead. 

' But you're not going anywhere? ' the Sheriff asked. 

'No. I enjoy what I do. I just won't be treated in that manner.' 

( Hood translation: Got me fucked up! ) 

One thing that workplace goons bet on is the effectiveness of intimidation because we need our jobs to survive. Overseers employed the same tactic to keep slaves in check, laboring to their death. One black body down, replaced by another. One black mind lost, replaced by another. I will defend myself against all forms of American tyranny.

With intimidation, people will get anxious and break their neck to whatever bidding is handed down. I refuse. My priorities are my own well-being and that of the greater good; to support those who have to endure hours long meetings listening to knuckleheads natter on like they got their 15 minutes on Hollywood Squares. I can natter on, but at least I try to be interesting. 

The Hagatron sent a last-minute inventory request of recordings. This is for an accounting thing called a ' profit and loss statement '. She forgot to mention this while running other people around in circles. The CDs were in a densely packed storage room - a low key archaeological dig.  I thought about the GM, a good and gracious man between a rock and a hard place with these two.  Every request and directive he gives to me is done with respect and consideration - every single time. Professionally we think in the same way: plan, create, and execute. He once said I had visual acumen, which I thought was cool. 

I shifted my thinking. Focus on the good, not the bad. I could be defiant and do nothing, but that's my ego. I hauled gear in and out of Burning Man for years, bitches. I can also work out my issues in a positive way! 

But back to Renita, and this email. She at the computer, y’all. She’s stressed. She wanna say… “Why you not readin’ my shit?” But she can’t say that. So you know what she has to say? Delete, delete, delete, delete. “Per my previous email…”

But there’s a behavior that white women and women who happen to be white are doing. It’s an infraction that you’re committing on a regular basis that all of us in here would love for you to stop doing. It’s plaguing offices everywhere. Please. We beg of you. Stop cc’ing all these unnecessary people on these goddamned emails! Stop! Stop! Why you sharin’ on this goddamned email? She ain’t got shit to do with what we’re doing over here! What you tryin’ to do, Becky? What you tryin’ to do? ‘Cause I got the receipts! I got the receipts! Ah! You ain’t think I had that shit. Well, n i g g a s got me fucked up. Ooh! Exactly. Shit. Heh. She ain’t know I stay ready. When you a black person in any office, you stay ready. ‘Cause you’re always wondering, “How black am I gon’ have to get?”

- Amanda Seales, I Be Knowin, 2019

Yeah, the antics we are subjected to are black universal.  Listening to such stand up with recognition and irony, we laugh, get up from our seats, and cheer. Collectively, we rejoice in the acknowledgement that we have to be on guard at all times in this country. The greatest defenses are our wit and awareness; to know who we are. We all know that tired ass email game. It's a passive-aggressive strategy to deflect from one's mediocrity and throw us under the bus; to cast aspersion and doubt upon our competency. 

It is white supremacy.

Then something miraculous happened. I came in one morning and the  bullies were silent. They left me alone all fucking day. I was archiving emails and came across one. ' Please communicate the importance of this process to Lisa.'  Even in a third-person conversation, it's assumed I don't have the capacity for executive functioning. Really? 

The new Sheriff had put the smack down that I report to the GM, not to the dreadful dynamic duo. I support the GM and staff, not them. In the realm of professional discretion, I'm certain that's what went down. I've been in the game so long, I know when a good hand has been played. When the wack-a-doo suddenly stops - someone drew a line in the sand. 

Check it out! Treat black women with care and respect at all times. Period. Even if we're learning new processes and workflow. Our circumstances are not like those of the vanilla majority. We suffered the lash the same as the men. We work and toil and work and care for others, often neglecting ourselves in the process. Black women are the most non-lazy humans in history. We have generational trauma in our blood and bones and still get to work early. How about I bring up what my father and grandmother went through during Jim Crow? That could be a compelling workplace chat. 

( Hood translation: Fuck all yall! ) 

We are not strong black women. That tired ass trope is for the birds. We are people worthy of the same respect and consideration given to white women. If a person is not of good character or competent, that will reveal itself. 

I am not having abuse of any kind and I will walk away to protect myself. All these mean ass white women in the workplace better take a seat. Such treatment only exacerbates our collective vulnerability and rage at this moment in time. 

Are you crazy? The last thing you want to do is make a scene? Well, I'm gonna make a movie if you don't show me some respect.


- Sister Souljah, The Coldest Winter Ever, 2006