Those Who Can, Do

...those who can't, teach. And those who can't teach, teach PE.

Right? Oh, chuckles. Nah, I never could get behind that sentiment. I've known way too many awesome, capable teachers, even PE teachers. But the following is the gospel truth:

Those who can't do end up in managerial positions; and when they're not shopping at various over-priced online retailers, laughing too loudly about inappropriate sexual innuendo, or forgetting to pay the electric bill, they're making your life a living hell.

Let me highlight the sexual innuendo aspect of this post. Now, don't get me wrong, I love a good joke - pretty much regardless of content. My significant other has the habit of telling terrible jokes very frequently. Terrible in that they can be corny, terrible in that they can be misogynistic, terrible in that they're embarrassingly self-depricating. But if it makes anyone laugh, it is, to some degree, worth telling. In certain company.

A very close friend of mine at the Organization, Marc, and I have the kind of friendship in which mildly (work) inappropriate sexual innuendo is totally kosher between us. Not that it's directed ABOUT one another, but in generalities that give us, and our other friends in the Organization, a good laugh. We keep it between the four of us, at most, because our senses of humor, our worldviews, our shared culture allows for this. Marc and I, as well as our friends Ashley and Cara, have a good giggle, push the boundaries of political correctness, and get on with our lives. We don't say these things in front of management. Ever.

Recently, an addendum to the sexual harassment policy, etc., came down the pike. We all signed, like ya do (unless you're this guy), and we all went on our merry ways. Then I got to thinking. What was it that Ashley said she heard the CEO, Dennis, say to one of his VPs, Wendy about "repeat insertion" (snortlaughsnort)? Didn't she mention to us that even being in the room at the time made her uncomfortable, especially given Dennis is everyone's superior? What did Wendy say to another VP about why she always keeps her phone on vibrate? How many jokes has the upper management made about surfing for porn at work? How many F-bombs do all of these people drop in a single day? (Mind you, I have the vocabulary of a drunken pirate, so I am not one to really go on about saying "fuck," only that it can be offensive to some in this context.)

My point in this is not to say that I feel sexually harassed, but that these instances are clear-cut pieces of Organizational hypocrisy. Which is all anyone in the Organization with a six-figure salary and two-digit IQ is really capable of, apparently. Sure, this whole post sounds rant-y (or is that randy?), but I'm quite tired of witnessing abject hypocrisy in an Organization that was, at some point in time, designed to help others and make the world a better place. At this juncture in my so-called, DOA, piece of shit career, I've become so jaded that I'm surprised any of this even matters to me anymore. But hey, maybe that makes me a hypocrite, too.

The Concept of "Green" Only Applies to Money

"Green is the prime color of the world, and that from which its loveliness arises."

Pedro Calderon de la Barca

About a year ago, the Organization decided to jump on the "green movement" bandwagon and launched a campaign directly linking what we do as a health charity to environmentally-sound living. I, being the naïve and impressionable young mind that I was, was ecstatic. While the mission of the Organization was important, I felt that as a whole body, our scope had become both myopic and too broad, and bringing it back to something everyone was talking about - and more importantly - getting involved with, was essential. Not only that, but I've been pretty damn "green" my whole life. You don't have ex-hippies for parents and not know the three Rs from day one. Seriously. Some folks were born with a silver spoon in their mouths, I was born playing in a compost heap.

I am quite sure this happens all the time and in a million different kinds of businesses of varying moral superiority, but when the Organization launched our green campaign, it was half-baked to say the least. They had a title for this campaign, a snazzy catch-phrase, a URL and little else.

I am a copywriter. I am a marketer. I am the office wordsmith (whose words are routinely ripped to shreds, injected with a healthy dose of dumbassery, and regurgitated to the public, but that is a post for another day). So it fell to me, my friend Marc who is an overworked, extremely talented graphic designer, web guru, and computer genius, and our boss, Janice, to really hammer out the details of this campaign. I was excited! I was energized! I was enthused! (I like alliteration, okay?) FINALLY, I could be a part of a project that was close to my heart, that I already knew lots about, and that I felt could actually and tangibly affect positive change in the world by working directly with people in the community.

Oh reality, you are such a prankster.

The details of what I actually could say about this program to help get it underway took a while to filter down from the top. What I couldn't say about the program? Well, I couldn't use the word "green" for one. They felt it sounded too militant and that we didn't want to look like Greenpeace. Yeah, you read that right. Fucking Greenpeace! What planet - and decade - were these people from? That was the actual explanation I was given for not using the word "green." Also, when directed to email our constituents with tips for becoming more environmentally friendly, my suggestions had to be reviewed after one apparently offensive suggestion passed under the nose of our CEO. The suggestion? Stop eating red meat one day a week. Honestly, horrifically offensive, I know. APPALLING. There are several more examples of this fuckery, but they are inconsequential once you read what else was about to happen.

A short while later, our finances in turmoil, a call came down from Up Top for we peons to put forth "money saving" suggestions as well as ways to "green" (my term) the Organization. Again, I was thrilled. Even after my red meat defeat, I knew this was one way I could a) improve the organization and b) get our antiquated ideals into the 21st Century. I wrote. And wrote. And wrote some more. I wrote at least five pages of detailed, creative, and entirely employable suggestions on how to make the Organization more efficient, cut costs, and allow us to practice what we preach. I submitted them for consideration and received a polite thank you. Sure, some suggestions were a bit out of the ol' box, as they say, but progress was never made any other way. I thought giving a paper-use limit would not only encourage people to think before they hit the "print" button, but it would save paper and ultimately money. I thought asking people to ONLY come into the building during office hours (unless absolutely necessary) was a great way to cut down energy consumption, even in a limited capacity. I didn't think asking people to turn out the lights when they left a room was too odd, though my boss did - and still does - laugh that I turn out my office light even when I'll be gone for 5 minutes. Clearly, she doesn't know my father. But I digress.

My friend Cara submitted suggestions, as did Marc and a few others. Liz and our co-worker Denise lived near one another and wanted to carpool. Being a mother, Denise thought that if she arranged her schedule around Liz's and her daughter's, she could not only save on gas but help build our green image. Look! The Organization has a carpool initiative! Great! You know, something like that.

Well, uh, not so much. Thinking about it now, I see that the entire movement, and the so-called "cost-cutting" efforts were, more or less, probably just a way for management to cover their asses. Not only were precisely ZERO of our collective suggestions employed, but our Organization continues to be wasteful, environmentally unfriendly, and increasingly resource-greedy (at least from where I'm sitting). I later learned that much of what helped spur on the initial green campaign was a grant and the sweet smell of donor dollars. We even hoodwinked a few local and very successful "green" businesses into giving us money and sponsoring our events. We are, to the best of my knowledge, still stringing them along.

In fact, I had the dubious task of creating an environmental award for members of the community whose efforts have improved health, as well. (I was assigned this half-baked idea and was charged with coming up with not only the award's name, description, and criteria for receipt of said award, but I had to promote it. Only the promotion of such a thing is actually in my job description, just an fyi.) This award, presented at one of our very expensive (roughly $200 a ticket) and classy balls, was supposed to showcase individuals and businesses with foresight and initiative. Or so I thought. When it came time to sort out nominees and recipients, one girl was from an urban, lower class household while her competitor was white, upper middle-class, and had a family with money.

When hashing over who should receive the award, my boss uttered the words, "Well, I don't even know if she would have anything to wear to the event. And we know her family wouldn't ever buy more than one extra ticket, never mind a whole table."

I think that statement alone is responsible for the TMJ symptoms I'm experiencing. It was, now that I think about it, nice of them to involve me in the selection process, even if it was clear that my opinion was never going to be considered. After all, one must maintain appearances at all costs.

But let's not forget, jade is a shade of green.

Photo by Matthew Fang via Flickr Creative Commons.

We're Cutting Your Position (But Not Really)

A very good friend of mine, we'll call her Liz, at the Organization was laid off about a month an a half ago. Due to various factors (beyond the economy), such as, but not limited to, poor bookkeeping, shoddy filing systems, and (this remains a theory) but some seriously inappropriate and unsubstantiated purchases, the finances of this place were , and in part remain, a shambles. Let's just put it this way: last year's audit took from the end of the fiscal year (June 30) until almost Christmas. That auditor must have the patience of a saint. Or at least a preschool teacher.

So, when Liz's position was eliminated, no one was shocked, we were simply saddened. In fact, she saw it coming, and had steeled herself for the impending lowering of the guillotine, so to speak. Before they officially let her go, they offered her a position in another office, some 150 miles away from her life, her boyfriend, her family. It was, in essence, a way the upper management was covering their asses. They knew they had the position to be filled in the other office, but also knew Liz would never take it. Shady indeed.

The plot thickens.

As it turns out, the position they offered Liz 150 miles away has been moved - to the self-same office out of which she used to work (in which I currently do). The job was publicly posted, along with another "new" position just this week.

Now, Liz was good at her job. Excellent, even. She was paid a pittance for essentially getting blood from a stone. She was in "development." Development is the nice word in the non-profit sector for "the department that puts on events, asks for big money and sponsorships, and generally speaking does not sleep. Ever." Liz was laid off because she was the youngest team member and as such, had been given the least successful events to run. She did not make them unsuccessful, they were unsuccessful long before she came on board, and they had been losing ground steadily for years. When her events didn't pull in the (unrealistic) goals that the upper management had set, they cut Liz loose, all the while claiming the position - NOT the person - had been eliminated.

Not only is Liz still out of a job, but by looking for a new hire to fill her exact job description, the organization has dealt her yet another shit hand. A prospective employer, searching our very public website and job search engines, could easily come upon this "new" posting, and take from it that it was the person, and NOT the position, that had been eliminated. By waiting only 6 weeks to make this job opportunity public, the Organization has effectively cut Liz - and her very important job search - off at the knees.

No ifs, ands or butts about it

welcome, bienvenue, buenos noches, ciao

This is the first installment of Dispatches From the Ashtray... a wee blog of generalized anxiety, employment displeasure, and overwhelming loathing for a never-to-be-named non-profit organization. It is, in short, a blog about job dissatisfaction in the deepest sense of the word.

Why? You ask. Why has our dear blogger taken to the Internet, anonymously, clandestinely, begun a cloak-and-dagger underhanded cataloguing of complaints instead of just, say, quitting the job in question? Why attack an innocent and quite venerable non-profit organization? Why air one's dirty laundry in such an obfuscatory way?

Easy. I need my job. Who doesn't in this economy? Truly, it's absurd to think otherwise. (Not that I - and scads of my coworkers - are not seeking employment elsewhere. Oh no. We are.)

More importantly, however, I am writing to expose the misuse of funds, the unethical hiring and firing practices, the failure to work toward a completion of a cohesive mission because one does not exist, and the micromanaging and employee intimidation that occurs regularly.

And I am writing anonymously, and changing all names, so that I can remain safe in my (meager) employ while working to poke holes in the wholesome facade of this organization.

So should you be interested, if you enjoy a bit of office drama with a side of snark and more than a little humor, read on. If not, flit through to other blogs and have a wonderful time. However, if you've ever wanted to light up in your non-smoking-even-out-of-doors workplace, sought to get a raise only to be told everyone (except the darling CEO) is on a pay-freeze, or brought more work home with you than you will ever be reimbursed for in lost time, sleep, and good health, then this is the blog for you. I welcome you and hope you share your thoughts, as well.

And for the record, I am not bitter, but I am determined to bring about change, one way or another.