please just see it?”
Clancy Thomas, the head of the sociology department, looked down his long, pointy nose at me with disapproval and perhaps a hint of contempt. “You know that’s against the college’s policy, Ms. James.”
We were seated in his sprawling office, him behind his antique oak desk in a very expensive looking recliner. I was across from him in a flimsy , creaking plastic chair that let me know my place – as if I could forget. With him staring me down intimidatingly, I got the message loud and clear. He was my superior and I was his subordinate – and he expected me to act accordingly.
Power games, I decided, were only fun when sex was involved. The rest of the time they sucked.
This was utter nonsense and I wasn’t getting anywhere. But I gave it another try anyway. I owed it to myself to do whatever I could to protect my career. I sat up straight as though trying to make myself look taller than my petite 5’3 stature. “If Mark Warren took issue with the way I handled my class, then I’d like specific pointers on how he thinks I can improve.”
The reason I was challenging the matter was simple: I knew the criticisms Mark had written on his peer evaluation were lies. They had to be, because there was no denying I’d done a kick ass job the day he’d sat in on my Introduction to Sociology class. I wanted to call him out on it. He deserved to be called out and I deserved to be vindicated. So I stared right back at Clancy Thomas, pretending to be fearless. He couldn’t see my knees shaking, so it was all good.
But he still didn’t budge.
“I appreciate your concern,” he told me unconvincingly, “but I can’t help you.”
“Let me get this straight. My career is at stake because of accusations Mark Warren made, but you can’t share those accusations with me because it’s against some archaic institutional policy. So basically what you’re saying is there’s nothing I can do to turn this sinking ship around. Come on,” I said, my eyes flashing with indignation. “I work harder than anyone else in the department. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
It was a ballsy thing to say, but I felt I was running out of options. I’d tried playing nice and it hadn’t gotten me far at all, so it was time to grow a backbone and stand up to the old boys’ club. It was a stupid club anyway.
“That’s enough, Ms. James,” my supervisor snapped, standing up. “I think we’re done here.”
“Thank you for your time, then,” I said through gritted teeth, my fists clenched tightly at my sides. (What was I going to do, hit him? That would go over well!) “I guess I’ll just have to take the matter up with Mr. Warren myself.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” he snarled. Taking a menacing step closer to me, he informed me, “You’re treading on thin ice, Ms. James. You can forget about getting a promotion any time soon. The college isn’t interested in offering tenure to troublemakers. At the rate you’re going you’ll be damn lucky if your contract is even renewed. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a poker game to get to.”
I stepped aside as he pushed past me in his haste to get out the door. Clearly he had no time for me but all the time in the world for his poker buddy Mark. My blood was boiling. Nothing about the way this was being handled was fair.
I seethed as I heard Mark and Clancy out in the hall greeting one another with the familiarity of old friends. They were both cutting out of work early, of course, getting an early start on the weekend. They set a lousy example – especially Clancy, whose position implied that he was supposed to lead by example. Sometimes it felt like I was one of the few people in the entire department who had a strong work ethic.
That saying “blinded by rage” was actually starting to make sense, because I felt so furious I couldn’t even see straight. I
Clancy Thomas, the head of the sociology department, looked down his long, pointy nose at me with disapproval and perhaps a hint of contempt. “You know that’s against the college’s policy, Ms. James.”
We were seated in his sprawling office, him behind his antique oak desk in a very expensive looking recliner. I was across from him in a flimsy , creaking plastic chair that let me know my place – as if I could forget. With him staring me down intimidatingly, I got the message loud and clear. He was my superior and I was his subordinate – and he expected me to act accordingly.
Power games, I decided, were only fun when sex was involved. The rest of the time they sucked.
This was utter nonsense and I wasn’t getting anywhere. But I gave it another try anyway. I owed it to myself to do whatever I could to protect my career. I sat up straight as though trying to make myself look taller than my petite 5’3 stature. “If Mark Warren took issue with the way I handled my class, then I’d like specific pointers on how he thinks I can improve.”
The reason I was challenging the matter was simple: I knew the criticisms Mark had written on his peer evaluation were lies. They had to be, because there was no denying I’d done a kick ass job the day he’d sat in on my Introduction to Sociology class. I wanted to call him out on it. He deserved to be called out and I deserved to be vindicated. So I stared right back at Clancy Thomas, pretending to be fearless. He couldn’t see my knees shaking, so it was all good.
But he still didn’t budge.
“I appreciate your concern,” he told me unconvincingly, “but I can’t help you.”
“Let me get this straight. My career is at stake because of accusations Mark Warren made, but you can’t share those accusations with me because it’s against some archaic institutional policy. So basically what you’re saying is there’s nothing I can do to turn this sinking ship around. Come on,” I said, my eyes flashing with indignation. “I work harder than anyone else in the department. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
It was a ballsy thing to say, but I felt I was running out of options. I’d tried playing nice and it hadn’t gotten me far at all, so it was time to grow a backbone and stand up to the old boys’ club. It was a stupid club anyway.
“That’s enough, Ms. James,” my supervisor snapped, standing up. “I think we’re done here.”
“Thank you for your time, then,” I said through gritted teeth, my fists clenched tightly at my sides. (What was I going to do, hit him? That would go over well!) “I guess I’ll just have to take the matter up with Mr. Warren myself.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” he snarled. Taking a menacing step closer to me, he informed me, “You’re treading on thin ice, Ms. James. You can forget about getting a promotion any time soon. The college isn’t interested in offering tenure to troublemakers. At the rate you’re going you’ll be damn lucky if your contract is even renewed. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a poker game to get to.”
I stepped aside as he pushed past me in his haste to get out the door. Clearly he had no time for me but all the time in the world for his poker buddy Mark. My blood was boiling. Nothing about the way this was being handled was fair.
I seethed as I heard Mark and Clancy out in the hall greeting one another with the familiarity of old friends. They were both cutting out of work early, of course, getting an early start on the weekend. They set a lousy example – especially Clancy, whose position implied that he was supposed to lead by example. Sometimes it felt like I was one of the few people in the entire department who had a strong work ethic.
That saying “blinded by rage” was actually starting to make sense, because I felt so furious I couldn’t even see straight. I
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