Do Not Let HR do this to you. It is not illegal to talk about wages in the work place. I did and got a 12% raise!
True info. Now let me add something: The power of documentation. (I was a long time steward in a nurses union.)
Remember: The “‘E” in email stands for evidence.
That cuts both ways. Be careful what you put into an email. It never really goes away and can be used against you.
But can also be a powerful tool for workplace fairness.
Case 1: Your supervisor asks you to do something you know is either illegal or against company policy. A verbal request. If things go wrong, you can count on them denying that they ever told you to do that. You go back to your desk, or wherever and you send them an email: “I just want to make sure that I understood correctly that you want me to do xxxxx” Quite often, once they see it in writing, they will change their mind about having you do it. If not, you have documentation.
Case 2: You have a schedule you like, you’ve had that schedule for a while, it works for you. Your supervisor comes to you and says “We’re really short-handed now and I need you to change your schedule just for a month until we can get someone else hired. It’s just temporary and you can have your old schedule back after a month.” A month goes by and they forget entirely that they made that promise to you. So, once again, when they make the initial request, you send them an email “I’m happy to help out temporarily, but just want to make sure I understand correctly that I will get my old schedule back after a month as you promised.” Documentation.
[Image ID: Text reading: In the middle of a busy clinic at our practice, I got pulled in by my manager to speak to HR, who must have made a special trip because she lives several states away, and told I was being 'investigated’ for discussing wages with my other employees. She told me it was against company policy to discuss wages.
Me; That’s illegal.
Them: (start italics) three slow, long seconds of staring at me blankly (end italics) Uh…
Me: That’s an illegal policy to have. The right to discuss wages is a right protected by the National Labor Relations board. I used to be in a union. I know this.
HR: Oh, this is news to me! I have been working HR for 18 years and I never knew that. Haha. Well try not do do it anyway, it makes people upset, haha.
Me: people are entitled to their opinions about what their work is worth. Bye.
I then left, and sent her several texts and emails saying I would like a copy of their company policy to see where this wage discussion policy was kept. She quickly called me back in to her office.
HR: You know what, there is no policy like that in the handbook! I double check. Sorry about the confusion, my apologies.
Me: You still haven’t given me the paper saying that we had this discussion. I am going to need some protection against retaliation.
HR: Oh haha yes here you go.
I just received a paper with legal letterhead and an apology saying there was no verbal warning or write up. Don’t even take their shit you guys. Keep talking about wages. Know your worth. /End ID]
At one of my old (shit) jobs my boss would continually come have these verbal discussions with me and would never put anything in writing I took to summarizing every discussion we had in email. Like “just to confirm that you asked me to do X by Y date and you understand that means I won’t be able to complete the previous task you gave me until Z date - 2 weeks later than originally scheduled - because you want me to prioritize this new project.
The woman would then storm back into my office screaming at me for putting the discussion in writing and arguing about pushing back the other project or whatever. At which point I would summarize that conversation in email as well. Which would bring her storming back in, rinse and repeat ad nauseum.
Anyway I cannot imagine how badly that job would have gone if I hadn’t put all her wildly unreasonable demands in writing. Bitch still hated me but she could never hang me for “missing deadlines” because I always had in writing that she’d pushed the project back because she wanted something else done first.
Paper your asses babes. Do not let them get away with shit. If they won’t put what they’re asking you to do in writing then write it up yourself and email it to them.
If you don’t have this kind of job but someday you’d might: start practicing.
After a casual conversation with friends, write up a brief synopsis of what you discussed & agreed to. (…Do not email this to friends unless you have their agreement that this would be a fun group project.) Get practice with,
“A, B, and C had a brief meeting about food options after the big game. We decided on pizza, with A&B agreeing to contribute X dollars each, and C agreeing to contribute Y dollars and also bring soda. A will call for pizza on the day of the game and schedule it for delivery at 8:30 pm.”
“A, B & C discussed movie options. A wanted something lite and fun; B wanted something scifi; C was fine with anything but horror. Nobody wanted superheroes. Decided on Lost Space Wanderers which opened last weekend; C agreed to research theatre options and report tomorrow.”
…and so on. Practice describing the results of “meetings” with friends and you’ll be ready to sum up “boss told me to set aside Project A to focus on Project B for the next two weeks” - because what’s likely is that boss didn’t say anything that clear; boss talked about how important Project B is and how the company needs parts X and Y done asap and you have the best skills for that, and when you mentioned how much time Project A was taking, boss said “eh don’t worry about that right now; marketing is breathing down my neck so we really need part X by Friday, okay?”
…at no point did you get a direct instruction.
Which is why anyone who is not the screaming-drama boss mentioned above would think it was perfectly reasonable for you to say, “I want to clarify the discussion we had earlier - you told me to focus on Project B to the exclusion of Project A for the next two weeks, even if that means Project A will miss its deadline; is that correct?”
Genuine question: what do I do when the boss in question doesn’t reply to my confirmation email, then says that he never approved the project delay?
In person or over the phone you say “that doesn’t match with my memory of the project but let me check my records and I’ll get back to you about what happened on this project.” Then go back to your desk and write the pettiest email in the world.
To: Boss
From: you
Cc: work group, team lead, project partner, direct supervisor, etc.
(Depending on severity of problem) Bcc: your personal email
“Hi Boss, I’m trying to resolve some confusion here. After our conversation about priority projects on [date] I reached out to you for confirmation of these details (see attached outlook item) and didn’t receive an update to the timeline since that communication. I have been working from the agenda we discussed (summarized in attached outlook item from [date]) in absence of further direction. Do you have a copy of your response updating the changes or correcting mistakes in my summary? It’s possible that I didn’t see your email and I’d like to identify where a communication was missed so that we can avoid issues like this in future projects.
Best,
[Name]”
For this to work you have to be militant about sending summary emails and firm with coworkers and supervisors that you will be documenting project plans via email, but once they’re used to your MO it’s worth the work.
It’s worth noting that the good bosses and coworkers you have will either a) know where this reflex comes from bc they’ve been there themselves and gladly support it or b) actively appreciate it bc they are (like me) doing about 6 jobs at any one time and having someone else write up summaries of meetings is a huge weight off of their shoulders and gives them something to refer back to.
My wife’s current boss really really loves the fact that she keeps notes on every meeting for her own records and emails them to everyone after the meeting.
This habit protects you from shit bosses and makes you look gold-plated to good ones.
The shorthand term for this behavior is called MEMCON: memorandum of conversion. It is ESPECIALLY useful if you’re an independent contractor
IN A DISTANT and second-hand set of dimensions, in an astral plane that was never meant to fly, the curling star-mists waver and part …
See …
“GNU Sir Terry Pratchett” - L-Space Wiki / Ursula K. LeGuin / “Terry Pratchett” - Wikipedia / “GNU” - Urban Dictionary / Going Postal by Terry Pratchett / Reaper Man by Terry Pratchett / Brandon Sanderson / Paul Kidby / The Colour of Magic by Terry Pratchett
Ever since I got a job as a security guard I can’t take heist movies seriously anymore.
Why is that?
Accurate heist movie: The Team is sneaking into a high security facility. An alarm is triggered, they freeze, prepared to knock out whoever responds to the alarm. It takes 40 minutes for someone to respond. When they finally do show up, they shuffle along, annoyed, arms full of 16 bags of pretzels for some reason, and reset the alarm without bothering to check their surroundings. They report that the alarm went off in error. Security control starts a fight about the correct designation of the door. The guard announces that they’re leaving the alarm key in the alarm because it’s always going off for no reason. No one challenges them on this. They shuffle away, leaving an alarm key and several bags of pretzels behind.
The Team knocks out a security guard and steals their radio. The team mimic can perfectly replicate the knocked out guard’s voice. They get caught because they pronounced the name of the company correctly.
The Team disables an alarm. The only way to do this is to rip it out of the wall and disassemble it until it physically can’t make noise anymore. This very loud process is clearly heard by the posted security guard nearby, who rolls their eyes and text their supervisor that the logistics contractors are fooling with the alarms again.
The Team breaks into the facility at night. There they meet a single security guard who is chanting potential names for NPCs in their DnD campaign out loud while they do their patrols. They encounter a fire extinguisher. They pause in their chanting to check that it is properly charged and to apply a sticker that reads, “Anal use only”. This guy is disgustingly good at their job. There’s no way around it, they’re going to catch you. And you’re going to have to deal with the fact that you’ve been had by someone who has a supply of stickers that say “Anal use only” and who unironically wanted to name their NPC shopkeep Mammogrammus.
The Team attempts to bribe a security guard. This is its own post but know there’s no way in hell that would work.
The Team breaks into the high security room and disables all the alarms. Security control sends several guards to investigate why there are no alarms going off.
The Team attempts to break into the high security room but can’t because it’s randomly decided not to let anyone at all in today.
The Team steals a keycard with “””””unlimited””””” access to the facility and gets caught because the computer system that manages keycards randomly revokes access for no reason.
The Team walks past a security guard in broad daylight wearing T-shirts that say, “We are here to rob you”. The security guard does nothing, having seen several people in logistics wearing that exact shirt two days prior.
This sounds like a great movie, honestly
I will always remember that when I worked for a pharmaceutical company in IT, there were massive security procedures, systems with air gaps, locations with biometric scanners and metal detectors and locking revolving doors, but the highest level of security was a human being in a bulletproof proof room with line of sight to the door and a button. To /get/ to the door, you had to go through tons of other layers and badge access and identity verification, but the final lock was a dual physical key (which required two people to open) and a human being with a book of photographs and a button to push.
At the onset of the 2008-onward recession it became more or less impossible to get the sort of summer gig that college students traditionally get. I couldn’t get a callback from any of the area fast food restaurants, the babysitting gigs were gone, I drew blanks on waitressing, dishwashing, landscaping, car washes, summer camps, you name it. The big local summer attraction near me is a horse racetrack, and I put in apps for every position from betting clerk to horse manure removal tech. I got one (1) job offer that summer, and it was to be a security guard. I was a 19 year old girl with a perky ponytail, big ol’ doe eyes, and no experience or interest whatsoever in policing, so I genuinely thought I’d gotten the offer because they’d confused my application with someone else’s… until the first day of training.
Training consisted of a number of retired high ranking New York State Troopers very earnestly trying to convince a room of “dudes who desperately wanted to be a cop but couldn’t jump even that low hurdle” and also “one increasingly incredulous 19 year old girl who could only hear a loud high pitched note in one ear because she stood too close to her amps at the punk show last night” not to bring swords, shurukens, or butterfly knives into work.
We went over the “do not bring in your own weapons” lecture for the majority of day 1 of training. Day 2 was also “do not bring in your own weapons” for a lot of the day, then we moved onto “identifying the different types of fire extinguisher,” and wrapped up the day with “wasp stings.” Well, actually during “wasp stings” we had a sidebar when this one guard who looked like Ben Franklin raised his hand and shared that he, personally, took care of wasps by blowing their nests up with improvised gasoline-based explosives, so technically we wrapped up the day with “do not bring in your own weapons even if those weapons are to harm a wasp.”
Day 3 was a half day, where we reviewed everything we’d learned about no weapons, fire extinguishers, and wasps, and then we took a written test, which I finished with a perfect score in three minutes so Sargeant Minetti made me grade everyone else’s. After that, I was a full ass security guard; I picked up my fake cop uniform, badge(!!!), tiny notebook, strapped a walkie to my belt, and was given my assignment. My beat was very very literally the most public facing one that existed; while most of my colleagues were posted at gates that might never get opened for the entire summer, I had “the wholeass quarter mile of pavement abutting the chain link fence that separated the public from the ponies.” My responsibilities were simple:
1. tell people to move their rolling coolers out of the fire lane
2. take people with wasp stings to the nurse
and oh yeah
3. every time a clerk at a betting window in my section accumulated more than $10,000 dollars in cash, I had to escort them for ½ of a mile through the incredibly dense crowd of drunk people, any of whom might be interested in stealing more than $10,000 dollars, and get the money safely into the giant vault.
I remember the very first run i made. The betting clerk looked at me, the 19 year old responsible for protecting both them and $10,000. I looked back at him through the mirrored aviators that I’d bought at a gas station for 5 bucks because I thought it was very very funny and good fake cop cosplay. My walkie hissed ominously.
“…Uh, so if someone tries to take the money, what are you going to do?” He asked.
“Well, I get paid 12 bucks an hour, so… nothing.” I responded. “How about you?”
We quickly arrived at an understanding.
Two of the guards from my training group got fired that summer for bringing in their own weapons, and at least one of them had both a butterfly knife and at least one shuruken. Many more dropped out as they discovered that they would not actually be doing Die Hard shit. As for me, I did literally nothing to prevent crime all summer, but I also halfheartedly cleared a path through the crowd at the front of a very sad “St. Patrick’s Day In July” parade, which made me enough of a success story that they actually called me unprompted to ask if I’d come back the next year… with one caveat.
See, the next year I returned as a weathered veteran with a spotless disciplinary record, so they gave me three hours of additional training to get a certification to become a peace officer. As a result, from ages 20-23 (when my license expired) I had the same legal powers of arrest as a police officer.
Me. They just gave me that.
In conclusion, if you’re a highly qualified team of heistmen looking to rob an entity that accumulates wealth by convincing drunk desperate people to give them their money and you pick a fucking casino when the racetrack is right there, you’re either thinking way too inside the box… or you have a healthy fear of shurukens I guess.
Only valid response to this post, everyone else can go home.
RIP to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum but…actually no this was bound to happen
Hello friend, may I introduce you to the lovely little bastard known as “ADHD.” You think I’m going to remember an ice tray? Remember to constantly fill it up, wait for it to freeze, and then enjoy it? No. No I am not.
Also. Ice trays do not crush the ice into nice little bite-sized nuggets of cold.
CO-SIGNED. As a person with ADHD who needs cold drinks… I would love an icemaker. I would love one SO MUCH. I have had to develop a complex system for making ice and it takes up so much of my already-taxed brain and Katy is right and good for streamlining this process.
I was so happy when I moved into my new house and the fridge had one. Except it’s not actually hooked up, so I’ve just been buying a bag of ice at the gas station and dumping it into the dispenser every couple weeks so I can have crushed ice when I want it. 😂
Countertop ice makers are a thing (life-saving when our ice maker goes out in this ADD household), and not horribly expensive. Also super handy for parties, if one is that sort, i’m told….
y’all cannot seriously be mad that the people with the most leverage are withholding their labor in solidarity with the people with the least leverage thereby giving them actual bargaining power like do you guys understand what a union is or nah
Especially when the people with the most leverage bring you content like, well, Leverage
Sometimes, actors, writers, and teamsters make the best good guys.
One morning, Mike woke up to discover that things had suddenly gone a bit German. He took a look around his Schlafzimmer and everything seemed to be the same, but he could feel that everything was just slightly … off. He took a shower, got dressed, machte Frühstück, and began his morning commute. The train was exactly five minutes late, which war seltsam, weil there hadn’t been a train or a Bahnhof there yesterday. With a shrug, he bought a ticket and a bottle of water and headed towards the train that seemed to lead to his office. Die Flasche Wasser koste fünf Euro, which struck Mike as außergewöhnlich weil er in Florida liebte.
,,Was zum Fuck ist los?“ sagte Mike. ,,Ich war gestern in Gottverdamm’t Florida!”
Aber er versteht es nicht.
I could have used this while the German speaking doodle was here….
My new studio is officially painted and I am THRILLED with how it came out. Can’t wait to get everything moved in tomorrow and finally have a studio space that looks how I want and isn’t overcrowded.
This mural took about three days off and on to paint, and I got SO MESSY. So messy. Worth it though, lol.
Honestly, if you post this and tag it with the nearest city, you’d probably be able to replace HD income with painter income….
everyone talks shit about the ‘bury your gays’ trope as they should but can we talk about the far more pervasive and insidious evil our community is currently facing: the 'lets run away together and then it never happens’ trope
Story where the queer pair of protagonists with tons of erotic tension meet up near the climax and one is like “let’s fuck it all and run away together!” and the other is like “you know what that’s a great idea” and they do and the last third of the story is a bunch of side characters scrambling desperately to solve The Problem while we occasionally cut to the pair drinking pina coladas on a beach somewhere and having no difficulties at all
Bulkshit. It would be an awesome story, and I would not only read the fuck out of it (hardback, paperback, ebook AND audio), I would try to finagle tickets to the red carpet premiere.
since we are talking about people who deserve a higher salary i think teachers should be making six figures a year btw. if state superintendents who have never set foot in a classroom can make that much so should the teachers. teachers are quite literally the backbone of our society and if teachers were actually properly compensated we wouldn’t have a shortage or bad teachers who are continually burnout because of a lack of proper compensation.
“Oh, but they’re just babysitters!!” The non-teachers snark.
Fine.
$15 / hour per kid. 20 is a sensible class size limit (*pause for audience to laugh themselves sick and dispose of vomitus*), so $300 / hour.
8-3 for class is 7 hr / day, so $2,100 / day.
Times 180 days per year and you get $378,000 / year.
If you value their skills as much as you value babysitting, PAY THEM LIKE BABYSITTERS.
