How My Boss Made Space for Me When I Needed It Most
I had an emotional breakdown at work. To be frank, I have been met with more responsibilities, lack of support from my direct higher-up, and an indescribable amount of tension within our walls due to America’s current state of affairs. My role has shifted. Not only do I register patients for imaging scans and invasive procedures, I also screen patients for COVID-19 symptoms prior to entering our waiting areas. My hours, on some days, are longer than others and my shifts have been inconsistent. I have been exposed to positive COVID-19 patients as well as patients who presented with symptoms or who have been around someone diagnosed with Coronavirus, COVID-19 in the last fourteen days.
I am currently on my ninth day of self-monitoring as our Employee Occupational Health team believes I have not been in contact with these patients long enough for it to warrant actual testing for COVID-19 — I am presumed to be safe enough to be at work. In each scenario, I was prepared, wearing a face mask, gloves, and goggles. They too had on face masks — one was wearing gloves. I was with each person for about five to six minutes. Upon verifying their status or confirming symptoms, these patients were directed to the PUI (Patient Under Investigation) facility where they would, in fact, receive their care.
I should have prefaced this by stating, we started the Coronavirus season with three screeners. One of my co-workers who screened with me is out on medical leave, post-surgery. The other has had two panic attacks due to exposure to positive patients and the fear it brings along with it. I stand alone, doing what I do to ensure the safety of myself and others.
But, I don’t feel safe at all.
From the constant cleaning of our front doors and entryways to questioning over one hundred fifty people per day, and dealing with the various attitudes that accompany some of these people, I am worn thin. Because we are short-staffed, there is no one else to turn to. We are all trying to make what we do work with the help we still have. It is not easy. There are many days where I dread getting up and taking another stab at the workday, but my bills are not going anywhere and I still have to take care of Jernee.
One of the recent changes among the ones listed above presented to us by my direct higher-up was to have us come in one hour early on our respective closing days and reduce our lunch break by thirty minutes. (That would be a 9 to 10-hour shift with a thirty-minute break.) She emailed this order to us one of the days I was scheduled to close. I received the message on my phone and upon reading it, the anger that had been boiling up in me unloaded.
I typed in a rage-response to her what I would and would not do and why it is wrong of them to ask more of us, then take even more from us as well. She passed my thoughts on to our center manager and since she and I have a history (she used to be our direct supervisor, left the center for a year, then returned, and is now the current center manager), she called me into her office to speak with her.
Come. Sit, Please. Tell Me What You’re Feeling.
I sat in her office knowing full-well why I was there. I had “acted out of character”, my response to an ill-fitting request of those who are already overworked, underpaid, and thrown into roles, not previously designed for them, was not what they were expecting. But, our center manager understood this. She said eight words to me, “Come. Sit, please. Tell me what you’re feeling.” And, I did. As I expressed what I felt and why and was open about how we’re being treated and what it does to me, the tears rolled down my face. My breaths quickened. My chest heaved. Sobbing became something that could not be contained.
She said, “You can take that mask off. I don’t need to be protected from you.” She handed me a box of Kleenex and let me continue. She listened to me, truly listened to me. I saw the expression on her face change from “concern” to “understanding.” In the midst of my storm, she tried her best to be a raft — something that provided safety. I cried until there was a sense of relief in my heart. She assured me they would find a way to lessen some of the weight hoisted upon us recently.
She did. She kept her word. But she has always done this. She informed me on that day if I ever felt the need to express myself to come to her — to not let my feelings stay pent up until they have nowhere else to go but out and in a way someone will not understand it or expect it. She ended our conversation by saying, “I am saying this because I care about your head (pointing to her head) and I care about your heart (pointing to her heart).”
Fast-forward to six days later on the evening of June 04, 2020, my co-worker, another African-American woman, was faced with the blatant tongue of a racist patient we have an obligation to serve. The next morning, she could not wait to come to my station in an attempt to tell me what happened. She teared up as soon as she saw me, and I felt it. I already knew something happened the night before that would change our center — change our leadership. We talked as quickly as we could and I ached for not being able to hug her — to provide comfort. I said, “We are not who they say we are. Do not let them live in your heart. Don’t give them room there.” She shook her head in agreement at me, wiped the tears from her eyes, thanked me quickly, and went back inside to register patients.
On the same day, I had my run-ins with a few racist patients who flaunted their “Trump for President 2020” paraphernalia upon entering the building and attempted to bypass donning masks. I was not having it. I stood my ground. I always do. I always will. You will not treat me in a way that is not aligned with how I wish to be treated or refuse me the respect I deserve. I am not a child. I will not be spoken to as one and I certainly will not bend to your rules for me without my consent.
I got through my workday as I always do — with prayer, belief in the work I do, and assistance from my co-workers. But, the pain was there. It sat in places in my body where I have not felt it before. My heart is heavy and it must show on my face because as I was leaving, our center manager said, “Tre . . . Come here, please. How are you feeling? How are you dealing with everything that’s going on in the world right now?” And all I needed was an invitation to tell her what was/is on my heart — to fully express just how hurt I am by the hands, tongues, actions, and behavior of her people.
I cannot be in her position. She cannot be in mine. She will never know how I truly feel just as I will never know what it’s like to be on her side of things trying to understand what is going on in my head — in my heart. But, she is empathetic to our plight. She has assured us we do not have to deal with ignorance and if someone brings their nasty behavior into our building and attempts to toss it at us, she is to be summoned to the location of such things. She let it be known, “You do not have to deal with the stupidity of others. You come and get me and I will handle it. I do not want anyone here feeling less than who they actually are. I won’t stand for that.”
I am forty years old. I have been working full-time since the age of eighteen. I have been Black my entire life — this will never change, however, this is the first time, someone in a position of power at any of my jobs has taken the time our center manager has to hear me.
Does it change what I feel or ease the heavy weight on my shoulders? No.
But, it is a start.
*Author’s Note: One of the worst things you can say to me is “I don’t see color” or “I don’t see race.” I need you to see me — to hear me. Seeing who I am and what my plight has been opens the doors to the conversations we need to have regarding systemic racism, social injustice, and how we can create change. I don’t need or want anything else. My boss has taken the necessary steps to sit her employees of color down to hear each of us out — to be there for us. That is how you move towards change.
Originally published in P. S. I Love You via Medium.
There are many who are not heard. Speak loud and clear. I would hug you woman if I could.
I have dealt with different prejudices. I cannot abide by anyone who cannot show another full respect. May my own strength and positive thoughts traverse through and lift your spirit.
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Peace. Thank you kindly. Truly.
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🌹
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Reblogged this on .
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Thank you! I appreciate you, Connie.
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Am I missing something here? I don’t see anything, but WordPress could be playing tricks on me.
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I said that was all…sending you a big ole virtual hug.
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Ahh. *big hugs* Thank you!
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I’m glad she took the time to listen to you, love. Wish I could give you a hug!
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I am too. And I’d really love a hug right about now. That’s for sure. 💙
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Enjoy the rest of your Sunday, dear friend.
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You do the same. Thank you.
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I can’t imagine how you’ve been feeling but I am so glad your center manager took the time to ask and then to seriously listen. I hope she stands by her words and that you can continue to feel supported and able to talk to her. Even more, I hope the movement is the start of true change. I remember seeing one protestor’s sign saying, ‘Good grief, I was protesting this in the 1960s!’
Australia doesn’t have a great track record on relations with her indigenous population. We’ve been marching here too in solidarity. Sending virtual hugs.
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*big hugs* I know about Australia’s treatment of the indigenous people there. *sighs* You’d think people are just people and differences should not mean anything, but this is the world we live in. I hope major change happens and a different shift towards betterment occurs. Thank you, Peggy.
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Major change has to come. It simply has to come.
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Truth.
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I’m not in any way being dramatic when I tell you that you have soothed me and brightened my days with your beauty and courage. I read your work with an already broken heart that reminds me that heroes reside inside electric currents using words as waves. You have made me cry then wiped the tears from my eyes. You are loved. This broken world needs you. We need you.
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Peace, Lisa. Thank you. I feel that. I appreciate this, all of it.
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This also made me cry. Thank you for sharing.
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Thank you for this, Tre. Thank you for being.
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Peace, Kelley. I’ve not seen you in quite some time. Thank you. And you’re welcome. Thank you for coming around again. Welcome back.
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Reblogged this on petrujviljoen and commented:
I beg people to click through to the original post and leave your likes there. trE is the one deserving of it.
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Peace, Petru. Thank you for reblogging.
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Stay safe please.
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I will. I truly will.
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I burst into tears reading your essay. I don’t have the words with which to express my sympathy/empathy. Enormously grateful you have proper, responsible and caring back-up. Use it. Please.
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I am using it, finally. Thank you.
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Good. Just one thing: in spite of your co-workers feeling it’s okay for you to be at work, but you have doubts of your (and others’) health, do what you think should be done. The bills will wait.
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It’s not my co-workers, it’s the company employee health office. Trust me, if we had an actual say in this thing, we’d all opt to stay home.
And, I hear you.
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I can’t begin to imagine what you have been going through Tre. The covid related breakdown being so traumatic and now this second unhappiness with the bigotry of racism at the surface of everyday life in America. I truly feel for you. I can only send my heartfelt best wishes and thank you for what you do and who you are. I do admire your strength of character and the beauty you hold in your heart.
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💙 Peace, Andi. Thank you kindly.
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Thats a great boss, just what you need, its been enough to spin anyone’s head right off lately so you have my support and sympathy trE, do take care and I hope your next days off feel so much better for you X0X
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Peace, Ogden. Thank you. I hope your weekend is a great one too.
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Its quiet here & the weather has turned colder, everything is still pretty much closed up. I got a curry for dinner, so that’ll put a smile on my face at least, do take care 🙂 ❤
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You too. Thank you! Yummy @curry!
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Wow, I am in tears. I have never had a boss say anything like that to me. It’s been more like how your direct boss has been. I’m so happy that you had this positive experience. It is a start.
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When I tell you there were so many emotions that hit me all at once when she took the time to talk to me, I was flooded. I left her office feeling a little bit of the pressure released from my spirit, and I am not as heavy as I was before.
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Yes, I can imagine the weight lifted off you. If we all share the burden, the weight is more bearable. I also am impressed by how she followed through. Some people just talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. I hope work continues to improve. You shouldn’t have to deal with harassment from 45 supporters when you’re just doing your job.
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She has always been that way. I was so happy when she returned because her absence was felt. We were all quite saddened by it. Thank you for reading and commenting.
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I’m glad they are taking positive action trE. I really think that there is a definite wind of change in the air, I hope so anyway. Hugs to you.
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I hope so too. Thank you, Peter.
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