Dream Company, Nightmare Boss — Part VIII - Later That Week

At a department meeting on January 22, 2016, Cindy asked if our team would ever reside in one location. Greg answered her question. The meeting continued.

Later in the hallway, I overheard Greg asking Cindy if she asked that question on my behalf. She said she did not, and I came by affirming that I did not ask her. Greg laughed, saying that he knows I made her ask. I once again said I didn't. Greg walked away announcing in the hallway, "Whatever you say, Katie. Everyone knows you want to move away."

Regardless of my thoughts on relocating (really, anywhere to escape him at this point), I didn't appreciate his dismissive attitude toward Cindy and me. It was his norm, but something about having it happen in front of other employees makes hostility hit differently. 

I walked over to his office and asked if we could talk. I expressed that I disagree with what he said, and the way he spoke to us was condescending.

• Greg told me that he was right and I was wrong. He said that I wanted to move, and I told Cindy to ask for me. 
• I repeated that it was her question, and if the question offended him, he should speak with her.
• He disagreed, saying I talked about moving “all the time.” He insisted he was right. 
• I said I wished he would believe me, asking how we can work together to build back trust.
• He then said I was too sensitive and should relax. I was making a big deal out of nothing.
• I said I was being civil and calling me too sensitive was unfair.
• Greg then said he was joking the whole time.
• Was this the part where I give in and laugh?
• I summoned the courage and asked why he couldn't talk to me with kindness. I came to his office to talk human-to-human, and the whole conversation had me feeling worse than before.
• He continued to reiterate I should learn to take a joke as I left his office.
• I returned to my desk, frustrated and saddened.

During a work call, I found that I couldn't concentrate on work, so I did what I believed was right if you felt harassed and intimidated. I messaged and called HR to discuss and did not hear back that morning. (We didn't have an HR representative based in our office at the time. HR replied at 1:17 p.m., after I left the office.)

 

Since I didn't hear back from HR, I sought out another person to discuss. The next option was speaking to a member of management staff. I messaged a manager in my department, Tom, and didn't get a response. I then asked Cora, another manager in my department,  to meet with me.

I explained the situation to her. We decided that going home to have physical separation from Greg—and wait to hear from HR—was the best option. Cora said she would handle speaking to Greg or whoever else she needed to inform. I left shortly thereafter, telling a couple of my teammates that I was going home for the day.

 

Once I arrived home and collected my thoughts, I emailed HR detailing the incident. There was already a pending discussion about Greg's continued bullying and intimidation planned for next week.

--

 

Next week during the meeting with HR, I talked about the recent incident, specifically what happened on January 22. They said my reaction was fine, but in the future, perhaps there was a better way for me to handle the situation. I said that I entered the conversation diplomatically and hoped to come to a mutual understanding. He wouldn't listen to me, insisted I was wrong, told me I was too sensitive, and when I asked him to be accountable for his abrasiveness, he claimed he was joking the whole time—classic schoolyard bully tactics.

I reiterated to HR that this was a pattern indicative of his hostile and disrespectful behavior toward women.

HR requested I answer three questions: 

• What are the three hindrances to my current job? 
• Is this the right job for me? 
• Is this the right company for me? 

In retrospect, those are alarming questions. They were implicitly signaling to me that I wasn't good fit. In the image below, I blacked out much of my responses, since they contain confidential information.

If #3 was answered truthfully, I would have written: Greg, Greg, Greg.

Was I fated to be another statistic? Another woman pushed to leave her job because a misogynist bully was being protected and a toxic work environment was allowed to flourish unfettered. The blame was shifting away from Greg. I was not responsible for Greg's toxic behavior, but I was expected to keep things copacetic.

Thankfully, my meeting with Dan, the Senior Vice President, was later that week. After Colleen debriefed him on our conversation, including what she witnessed the past two years, Dan and I sat down to chat.

I told Dan everything, from the beginning: It started out as poorly-managed job onboarding, then devolved into Greg using me as his secretary, and then my job description and title changed four months into my tenure. I also outlined some of Greg's inappropriate comments about me and many of our female colleagues. 

He listened. He asked questions. He understood how frustrating the past couple years were for me. He said things would improve, and he would lead the charge to ensure that happened. He thanked me for having the courage to speak up. He would check-in regularly. 

And he did. Dan, so busy with running our entire office, was the first person who took the time to bring about positive change. Not just for me, but for the team, the company, and if he cared, for Greg as well.

My conversation with Dan gave me hope that there were genuine, decent people in positions of power. Of course, I lamented that I couldn't work directly for such a person.

HR confirmed that Greg was being coached regularly, telling me that the company president had been made aware of the issues. It was discomforting rather than reassuring. I didn't want more people to know what was going on; I wanted it to stop. I wanted to go into work, do my job, and go home feeling satisfied, excited to return the next day. I didn't want to be known for this. 

Next up: Retaliation