Posted by:
catnip
(
)
Date: December 23, 2015 06:52PM
Back in the Eighties, I was working for Social Security. I got a call from a friend of mine who was the director of Food Services for our local school district.
This wasn't just any friend. I knew her from church, our sons were in Scouts together (and in fact, would receive their Eagle Scout awards at the same ceremony, some years later). Gayle and her husband had often double-dated with me and mine. So I had known her for a long time and knew she was a good person.
She asked if I could help her get financial information to help a kid at one of her schools who was probably eligible for both free lunch and free breakfast, but who never returned any of the papers sent multiple times to his mother for completion.
It was a small town and the name sounded familiar. Some of the kid's siblings were in my SSI caseload. And I realized why none of the papers had come back - the kid's mother was illiterate. She probably just threw them away.
So I gave Gayle the info she needed on the kid's income, right then, over the phone. She was thrilled - the kid would be eligible for both free lunch and free breakfast. he had been going around at lunchtime, begging for food from other kids, which had brought him to Gayle's attention in the first place.
The Manager From Hell overheard me giving this information to Gayle. I was called into her office and grilled thoroughly. Yes, I admitted, I had circumvented proper procedure, but I totally trusted the person I gave the information to, and most importantly, A HUNGRY CHILD WAS GOING TO BE FED. The manager said, implacably, "But the mother could SUE us." I said, "Not bloody likely. She can't even sign her name." We had some more words, not pleasant, but I thought it was over.
It wasn't. Some days later, I was called into her office. My immediate supervisor and the assistant district manager were also in attendance. Full court press.
Herself went on, ad nauseam, about how I had violated confidentiality rules by giving information directly to my friend. It didn't matter that a child was hungry. It didn't matter that the lady I gave the info to was a trusted friend who was in a position to help the child. The only thing that mattered was that I HAD BROKEN THE RULES.
One cool thing here: I knew that the manager, like me, had been a Spanish major in school. So I started making snarky references to the Spanish Inquisition, implying that the manager was a bloody tormentor who was more interested in breaking people than in doing God's will. But I said all of this with very indirect references, so that the manager understood every reference I made - but not a CLUE got through to the witnesses. They had no idea.
She finally took another tack and said, "I don't get the impression that you regret what you have done." At that point, I was so angry that I got up, slapped my hands down flat on her desk and loomed over her. She looked scared, and it felt GOOD to intimidate the witch.
"I DON'T regret it," I said, "Not one bit. I would do the same thing tomorrow if another hungry child would be fed." And without being formally dismissed, I just turned and walked out.
A few days later, she came to my desk and showed me a piece of paper which she said would go into my personnel file. It was a "Formal Reprimand." I didn't even read the whole thing. I just handed it back to her and said, "Fine. Whatever."
Maybe I was supposed to burst into tears. I don't know. At least, I didn't get fired, which was all I really cared about.
I told my friend Gayle later about the whole hullaballoo that had gone on. She told her principal, thinking that maybe he could smooth things over. After he called and spoke with Herself, he came back to Gayle, looking shaken, and said, "That woman is certifiably insane. Not a shred of compassion. I'm sorry your friend has to work for someone like that."
Well, all that is ancient history. I'm retired, The Manager From Hell has returned home, and I hope the kid grew up OK. But compassion has no place in the workplace. At least, not officially.
I continued to do helpful things for people in need for the remainder of my career. I was just more careful about getting caught.