COTM - 6 of Pentacles: Not everyone deserves your gratitude
It's good manners to say "thank you". Just make sure you thank the right person.
When I landed the position as head of the content team for an art fair - let’s call it Fart Nozzle - I thought I had made it. The fair was and still is one of the most famous events in the world; a gathering of the rich, famous and infamous as they party their way through booths chocked full of eye-wateringly expensive modern art.
I was offered the position immediately after my third interview. Literally. My soon-to-be manager (or so I thought. Keep reading.) walked with me out of the conference room, down the escalator, out the building and across the plaza to the tram stop. After shaking my hand, they pulled a contract out of their bag, ready for me to sign. I was shocked. I’d met with the management board and the global director a few hours earlier; they didn’t seem too impressed. But looks can be deceiving, as can the lure of a high profile job with a valuable brand name.
I took the position, along with an ABSOLUTELY, RIDICULOUSLY, EMBARRASSING-TO-SAY-HOW MUCH, EXTREMELY MAJOR, HOW-COULD-I-HAVE-BEEN-SO-DAMNED-STUPID pay cut by leaving my then-current job. I wanted to follow my naive dream of working in the art world. I also loved my soon-to-be new boss and their energy.
I couldn’t believe someone like me, a Black woman from the US South with no trust fund, no art world connections, and no closet full of Marni, could land a job at a place like this.
I was grateful. Grateful to have been picked. Grateful to my soon-to-be manager for hiring me. Grateful to the board for approving me. Grateful to the global director for even talking to a peon like me.
I was grateful, even when the manager who hired me revealed right after I’d signed the contract that they were leaving the company.
I was grateful, even when their successor asked me more than once where I was “really” from.
“I was born and raised in the US.”
“But your parents?”
“Born and raised in the US.”
“But…
I was grateful every damned minute of every damned day for that important-sounding job. I was so grateful that I went above and beyond the call of duty.
I was grateful, until the new manager offered to drive me home from Nozzle to Zurich the day before I left for vacation. As we were speeding down the highway, the manager shared with me that he was taking my title, hiring someone else, and giving it to them.
Yes. I was demoted while locked in a BMW during rush-hour traffic.
My performance wasn’t an issue. As a matter of fact, my reviews were stellar. The issue was that, in his words, the board thought someone from their level, someone they’re comfortable communicating with and already know, should have my title. I’d still have the same exact duties, the same immense workload, the same team lead admin tasks, the same (low) pay, just not the title, visibility, or perks that came with it. I would be the “right-hand woman” for the person to whom my title was being given.
Friend, I’ll let you connect the dots.
I submitted my resignation when I returned from vacation. The manager was shocked. He said he was disappointed I would do such a thing to the organization.
I guess he thought I would be ok with the demotion because I was so - grateful.
“But who’s going to do the work?”, he asked.
“Perhaps the person you’re giving my title to?”, I replied.