Just the facts
There are a lot of saved documents in my computer that tell this story. I have typed about it up one side, down the other, front to back. At first when I typed it all out, I thought, this must be some kind of exaggerated version that my psyche is telling me happened. I compared my notes to their notes, those notes to the attorney’s notes, to the human rights commission’s notes, it is all there. The truth, staring me in the face.
For years, I refused to see the totality of the circumstance. For a long time, I tried to play along, look the other way, and believe that what I was seeing was not actually what I was seeing. I spent more time convincing myself that my eyes were the problem, rather than what my eyes were seeing being the problem.
In 2016 and 2017, I was discriminated against repeatedly for being a woman, for being pregnant, for being a woman in the postpartum phase of childbirth, and for being a woman who decided not to quit her job to take care of her infant son with complicated medical needs and disabilities.
That is the point-blank truth of what happened. For months, years even, I have looked back on this time of my life with so much sadness. I experienced so much stress in such a short period of time and that challenged and changed me to the core. However, what saddens me the most is the amount of time I spent believing it was my fault.
Here are some facts:
In 2014, upon returning to work from my unpaid maternity leave, I was told in verbal agreement with administration that I could take two, 15-minute breaks away from my workstation during an eight-hour shift.
In 2014, upon returning to work from my unpaid maternity leave, I was given a place to express breast milk; a practice common amongst mothers returning to work after giving birth. The permitted place for expression was the entry way to a locker room and bathroom. It should be noted that at one point, this location was an unacceptable place for milk expression due to an ant infestation. Having a place in the building without having to ask for any specifications was the priority. Pump, but do not inconvenience anyone but yourself to do it.
In fiscal year 2014, I applied for, received, and worked contractually guaranteed overtime shifts. In fact, 2014 and 2015 were some of my highest overtime earning years within my seventeen-year career.
In 2016, upon returning to work from my unpaid maternity leave, I was told in verbal agreement with administration that I could take two, 15-minute breaks away from my workstation during a regularly assigned eight-hour shift.
In 2016, I applied for and was denied contractually guaranteed overtime, a total of three times. The reason for the denial was this: a break away from my workstation could not be guaranteed during an overtime shift. If I required a 30-minute break during my regularly scheduled work shift, then logically I would require a 30-minute break during any extra work shifts. If I am willing to forgo the break for overtime, then I must be willing to forgo the break for regular duty. This translated into the following statement: If you need 30 minutes of work duty coverage to pump breast milk during your work shift, then you will need the same for overtime. The agency is not willing to pay another person to perform your work duties on a shift that you were hired to fill for vacancy purposes (which is the part I agree with). Therefore, if you want to continue having a break during your regularly scheduled shift, you forgo your contractual right to work overtime. This forgo is unwritten, and not actually agreed to, it’s just what the agency interprets based on one person’s assumption and a room full of ignorance.
Understanding this was a problem on all levels, I sought out the assistance of the supervising parent Union. The representative assigned to our smaller union was smack in the middle of some shady investigations and really did not have the bandwidth to process supporting my basic Union representation.
In 2016, on multiple occasions I was called to speak of my personal breast milk expression requirements in rooms full of men, alone. The support or understanding of a similarly gendered human being was never once offered. Not only did I not have any women from anywhere supporting me, four of the five men I had to have this discussion with were fathers.
On my own, without the support of my union, I scheduled appointments and met with the Commission on Human Rights and Opportunities (CHRO), as well as the State of Connecticut Labor Board, and Equal Opportunities Commission. Gratefully, at each consultation, I was received with warmth and understanding; not to mention shock and disgust at the reality of the way I was being treated.
In 2016, I received a telephone call from a female lawyer representing the town and administration in which I worked for. We had multiple conversations and ultimately, she was tasked with asking me what I needed for this to be “put to bed”.
In 2016 my son was diagnosed with the following medical conditions: severe deafness, various developmental delays, dysphagia, reactive airway disease of significance, asthma, bilateral iris colobomas, un-specified genetic condition, question of spina bifida.
The situation was no longer about what was right and wrong for me. Expressing breast milk at my desk was a requirement and one that I felt I had the right to exercise. My son had so many complications and we were faced with so many heavy decisions; I was desperate to solve something. I just wanted to ease one of the incredulous stressors in our life.
My hands trembled, and my voice shook as I told the attorney that ultimately I cared about my son’s health and my reputation at the agency more than anything. In order to settle the situation as quickly as possible I asked for the right to decide. I asked for the ability to choose if I wanted to express breast milk at my workstation to avoid having to leave the room and have a break away from my workstation. I did not ask for a guaranteed break. I did not ask for a room to be built or extra accommodation to be provided. To settle this fundamentally immoral and gender discriminatory issue, I offered to forgo the break entirely.
I did not ask for thousands of dollars in compensation. I asked for a shade to close the window view from the office. I asked to be paid for the overtime shifts I was discriminatorily denied, and I asked for the right to pump milk at my desk. I asked for the right to use my own discretion. I had to ask a lawyer to ask my administration and town if was permissible for me to use my discretion.
To be honest with you, this plot is too good for me. I recognize that I am creative, however, I could not craft something this insane.
More facts,
On a few occasions from 2016-2019, co-workers, in a gesture of love, tried to donate sick time to my sick time bank, allowable by two Union contracts overseeing employee benefit time. Multiple times the administration denied this offering, indicating that I “should have saved more time” as if in 2010 I could potentially foresee having a disabled baby requiring medical care in 2016.
In 2016, I was berated by a supervisor in front of other employees for the use of my sick time, in caring for my disabled child. I was asked by the administration to “let it go and try to focus on my friendship and history with this person.”
(I want to take a moment to recognize genuine care and love from some of the people I used to work with when it came to caring for my son. Major surgeries required a lot from our family, and we felt supported and loved in those situations. This post is in reference to the care I kept hidden).
I received notification that the town and agency agreed to my requests. I would be paid as if I worked the three overtime shifts in question, and I would be given the necessary equipment to secure my office so I could express breast milk at my desk while answering emergency calls for service if I chose to. If I had the appropriate support, I could also leave the room for my break, however, this was no longer a guarantee.
Facts. I received a four-foot section of brown “butcher” paper. This paper was to cover the window that made the view of my office accessible. Additionally, I was given an 8x11 sheet of paper sign that read “DO NOT ENTER”, that I was to tape onto the door of my office.
Fact. I had to contact the human resources and financial department of the town I worked for more than once to follow up on the “repayment of missed shifts”.
Seven months ago, the veil was lifted off my eyes and my heart. I used to say that I had a mental breakdown, or that my brain shut down from burnout. The truth is, I lost my ability to pretend that all the bullshit swirling around in my life was ok. Sometimes I feel like I woke up in a different body as a different person who lost their ability to just be quiet to “keep the peace” or “lie to save face”. In the fall, I lost my ability to just “go along” with the narrative I was in. I lost the ability to continuously step over the crack in the foundation the truth had made.
Part of the intense healing process I am in involves addressing situations that I experienced with my unilluminated psyche. I can re-evaluate these situations now and apply the energy I have now to process and understand. As a recovering people pleaser, it is my nature to not want to tell the whole truth – mostly because it will make someone else uncomfortable. Even now as I wrap this piece up, I am asking myself, why are you sharing the facts of your story?
I am sharing my story because during one of the most challenging times of my life, I persevered. I knew I was being treated unfairly and although I settled on a solution that some would not consider fair to me and my family, I did not duck and run. I returned to the place that would ultimately provide for me and my family. I am sharing the facts because I want my kids to know that during a challenging, uphill climb, I gathered the equipment I needed to endure the climb, instead of turning around and taking the easier route.
No person, man or woman, should ever feel they have to choose between the needs of their children and family and the demands of their career. Furthermore, no person should ever feel the obligation of silence, or the push to pretend that ‘everything is ok’. I am sharing because maybe someone, somewhere, is being told they aren’t allowed to pump breast milk at work. Maybe they stumble on my story and because of it, learn they can stand up for right and wrong. Maybe they learn that the system is not going to crumble if we modernize and make changes that make all people feel like genuine human beings.
We are on this earth to make better decisions based on the information we have gathered across generations.
This is why I share my story.