You probably shouldn’t read this post. I probably shouldn’t write this post, but I’m tired and sad and loss hangs heavy over my shoulders.
About ten or eleven years ago, my manager told me “I have a problem. I have a designer on my team that isn’t respected.” That designer was me. I was the problem.
At the same time I had aired out some concerns to HR about sexism at the company. I told them about the blog incident and the people from the company I was working at who were following me on Twitter and sending me passive aggressive Tweets about how my blogs and my activism was scaring women away from the industry. They asked me if I was sure it wasn’t my fault. I was the problem.
At another company I was dragged into a discussion with leadership. They were worried about the “team’s attitude”. But the only people there were me and my director, and I think the reason why my director was there was to make it seem less like they were targeting me. Because the team’s attitude they were talking about was probably the fact that I asked “troublesome” questions. The troublesome questions were related to how we managed the project, how time was managed, the process we used. They were questions that the leadership had a hard time answering.
So again I was the problem. I’ve always been the problem. I’ve tried some strategies to not be a problem. Most of them have to do with smiling and nodding and keeping my mouth shut.
I’m tired. Loss hangs heavy over my shoulders. I am sad. I feel particularly useless and I’m trying to rationalize it. It’s not working.
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