What I️ learned from Being fired
MEDIA: DST
I'm not shy to write about some of the horrible experiences I've endured in toxic workspaces. Still, in particular, one incident is stands out because it was a toxic experience with a Black-led non-profit in 2018. This is how the story goes:
I was eager to land a full-time position in my second semester of grad school. I got tired of dealing with low-wage jobs and needed a position to financially support me through grad school. However, I struggled like hell being a graduate student and managing my finances. After wrapping up my fellowship in policy, I learned the legislative process isn't as seamless as we think. If anything, the process is rooted in many challenging relationships; money influences political decisions, and the white gaze often affects how policy works for the Black community's collective progress. It was a gruesome reality that I had to face, and throughout my journey, I experienced so many forms of bigotry; even one time my white colleague dropped the word nigger to my face. We’ll save that for another storytime.
I️n my experience with this fellowship, I felt less confident about having a career in policy. Nearing completing the program, I set sights on applying to different non-profits across the city, eager to work for advocacy/social justice organizations. I knew my legislative experience would be helpful to them understanding the inner working of the legislature and the direction social justice organizations needed to take to get their voice heard with public officials.
I came across a Black-led company located in the middle of the hood that I felt fit perfectly. They were looking for a Community Engagement Coordinator to produce programs and work alongside local leaders to navigate “Know Your Rights” workshops. The workshops were meant to bridge the Albany community and police officers. Truthfully, in my opinion, that was never going to happen because of the police brutality and unjust Black deaths the Albany community experiences. Can we say over-policed and under-resourced? Yet, most of the role would be centered on building out the organization's social media and wearing multiple hats for a truly stretched-thin nonprofit. This position was serving as a caseworker, comms director, and policy analysis all in one. I was 22 at the time, and naive. The position I applied for originally had a salary of $55,000. That was a big deal for me at the time because it was a sufficient amount of money, but also, I would be paid to do work that aligned with my passion.
Then, all of these red flags begin in my hiring process. If I weren't so gullible, I probably would have paid attention to those signs. Sometimes separation can cloud your judgment.
While I know I was tired of the legislative journey, I decided to apply to another fellowship with New York State Senate, just in case things didn’t work out with this job search. That summer, I interviewed with the fellowship committee and got an opportunity to work for the Senate. Given the nature of the program, I would have to accept early to be enrolled as a fellow in the following fall. I was specifically required to give a week's notice after receiving my acceptance letter.
I could have accepted this fellowship offer and worked briefly for the non-profit, then quit. Hell, I’m young and owe loyalty to my future. Although that would have made the most logical approach, I decided to weigh my options. I started with the benefits of each position in the Senate fellowship. I would earn a stipend of $33,000 from September 2018 to June 2019. In contrast, the non-profit provided a bit more financial wiggle room to do work with my community, and my eyes fixated on the option of long-term employment. I felt that my role with this nonprofit would be much more valuable and less “fauxgressive.” But, I would soon find out the truth.
My first interview for the nonprofit determined my scope of work and my interest in the organization. In addition to that, I provided insight into my background in social justice work. The interview consisted of the executive director and the director's assistant. It was pretty simple. I recognize how poverty is criminalized and how poor people don't have the necessary resources to navigate an anti-poor and anti-Black world. In addition, poor people can't access the means to have an attorney to successfully navigate this justice system. It was a very emotional experience talking about the different layers of how this justice work affected my life from my interview. As a directly impacted individual, I simply recognized the harm done to our communities and said “this work will lead to restorative justice.” I just felt like I was the perfect match for the company.
Things were reasonable from that first conversation, but I don’t think the ED was entirely sold on me. From that interview, I kept in direct communication with the assistant, who informed me of my next steps in the process. Four days later, she called my phone and explained that the ED was sold on me being the candidate. But, this is where bullsh*it started to hit the fan.
Media: GIPHY
While I almost began to celebrate, the Assistant informed me there would be some changes to the role. Firstly, the position's title changed. It switched from a Community Engagement Coordinator to a Program Assistant. Secondly, the company would cut my expected salary from $55,000 to $33,000. The reason given about the salary cut was “that they didn’t have the grant money they needed yet to fund my position.” In the back of my mind, I felt the job description should have been updated, but in survival mode, I decided not to say anything. Aside from this, the assistant said that “I’m calling so that you won’t feel blindsided because you’re the shit, and the ED wants you to serve. I know this information may be different, but I promise we got you.” She told me I would need to come in for another interview that’s not really an interview and commit until the board funding to work as a Program Assistant.
Overall, child, certain things didn’t make sense from my phone discussion. I started to feel a little eerie, but I ignored my intuition because these are my people, right? I got another “interview not interview” update soon. Before that, it was explained the different reasons why the position has changed, and it was very believable that the board wanted somebody who would be able to stay a little longer. “This is just a situation they had to navigate.” Lastly, I was informed to “not worry, because there would be perks, sometimes the ED pays you money out of her wallet because she’s rich and she has that type of access.” Now, knowing what I know about toxic nonprofits, their money access, and resources, there’s no f*cking way that they didn’t have the money to pay me a salary of $55,000. Although I eventually found out it was all a front, the truth was the ED felt like I didn’t deserve to be paid that much. I would only discover that later. During my interview phase, they were so joyful to invite me on board and extend the invitation to be on the team.
After the second interview, I officially received an offer letter which the assistant wrote. It was another red flag; they didn’t work with a human resource department, and to be honest, any HR concerns were taken care of in-house by the ED. It was a conflict of interest, and I just took a mental note. Getting back to my role as a program assistant, the ED informed me it would be my responsibility to learn the community on my own; I wouldn’t be exposed to people on the ground. I was also told that it would be up to me to travel to different places, including if we had to go to the jails to do demonstrations. That was a wake-up call for me because I never experienced being out on my own as an employee, and that’s because when you’re working for an organization, you’re not supposed to be ON. YOUR. OWN. When onboarding somebody new to an organization, the expectation should be to provide them with the resources, a booklet, an email, cards, meetings, and exposure to people. This is so that they can represent your organization properly and people can know that this employee serves as a representative and point of contact for the company. The ED also requested that I come before my start date. I immediately said, of course, why not? Assuming that I will be paid for my services, given that if you’re asking an employee to come in before their start date, typically with orientations and every orientation that I’ve been to, I would be paid. I was quickly pulled to the side by the assistant and informed that I had given the wrong answer.
Media: GIPHY
She told me — “You should have never said yes. The executive likes to milk work out of people without adequately compensating them. You know, seeing how far she can get work out of you for little pay.” She then went on a mini-rant telling me as the assistant, she was only paid $22,000 a year, sometimes $23,000 a year. She would also be required to show up to places without being paid. For that amount of money, she had served various roles on behalf of the center. She was dealing with burnout and struggled with her relationship with the executive. So, because of what she endured, she bullsh*ts and takes a day or two off weekly simply because she doesn’t feel like coming in.
I could relate because I’ve been there before. What she then went on to explain to me was very telling. In her role, she had seen the transition of three different people. All of them were Black women that the ED didn't like. Before me, another individual and community leader in the role became harmed and let go because she didn’t align her politics with the organization or the ED. I just took the information and felt that my experience would be different. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.
From that experience, I attended my first “Know Your Rights” Workshop in my two weeks within the role. During my observation, I identified inappropriate language regarding the police officer and community members perpetuating anti-Blackness. I reported back on why the Know Your Rights workshop wasn’t as practical as it needed to “save the lives” of Black people. Some of the narratives thrown around at that workshop were that if Black people controlled our anger if we were much more gentle with the police or more respectful, we would be alive. It’s like they forgot that Black people still get killed by being so respectable and non-violent interacting with the police.
It just rubbed me the wrong way. And I felt that the narratives that we should be putting out as a social justice organization should tie in less to anti-Blackness and more into holding pigs accountable. That didn’t fare well with the politics of the ED. The ED told me that I was trying to ruin the relationship that the org had with police officers, who, at the time, the Director built such a long relationship she was not willing to risk. My other assignment was to work with the local library and develop a series of workshops on Black socio-political education. At the time, Black Panther was hot and rolling. I wanted to present a workshop focusing on Wakanda forever and how can we establish a Wakanda community within our lives right. The workshop would explore how we can connect the messaging in the film to the work of the Black Panthers movement. Not all of the tools were there at the time. But for the most part, the purpose of the event was apparent. What does it take for us to establish our Wakanda? Unfortunately, I never got the chance to do the workshop. Because about a few days into my role, I got fired.
I remember at one moment, on a Tuesday, I came into the office and had on an outfit that she didn't like. Instead of pulling me to the side and having a discussion, she publicly embarrassed me and said that the clothes I had on would be something the assistant (who was not present) wouldn't like. It was bizarre energy. After that meeting, she pulled me into a room to have a short discussion. As we spoke about my upcoming projects, I remember yawning midway through and excusing myself simply because I was pretty tired that morning. The disgust was all over her face. The look she gave me let me know she had something up her sleeve that I couldn't imagine. That Thursday, the Director came to the office to talk to her and the assistant. I eventually found it was about me and how she didn't feel like I should continue at the organization.
That evening I was taken home that day by the assistant. We talked about how the ED felt about me. The assistant explained, "You know, I gotta keep it real. She's not feeling you". She said, "she's disturbed by you, and I don't know what you did but, you rubbed her the wrong way." "She feels like you think you know it all and is trying to change her organization. Also, your attitude is not the same as when you first got hired — I must admit, your attitude is not the same." Reflecting on all she said, I was in limbo.
The Director felt that my respect for the organization and her was non-existent. Specifically, she said, “when she walked into the room. I didn't speak loud enough to her.” She told her assistant, "she had never met somebody, such as myself, who had rubbed her so wrong. And, if I were not going to turn my attitude to her liking, she would have to let me go.” I didn’t understand how she could come into the office and not include me in a conversation about me and my future at the company. Furthermore, I had no idea why the Assistant energy was on 10.
As someone watching over my process and trying to "help me" navigate this new job, I ️ could not wrap my head around why she agreed with a woman whose negative perception of me just came out of the blue? It didn't matter that I did all of my work ethic or commitment. It didn’t matter that I took a pay cut to serve my community. There were so many different things wrong with my experience. After being dropped off, I received a call from the Assistant. The ED was sending a message through her to tell me that “I needed to think about if I wanted to be at the center and not think too long.” I spent an hour and 30 minutes on the phone, conversing with the assistant. I was so frustrated because the Director kept sending the Assistant to be the middleman and didn't even think about talking to me. Their perception was way out of whack. I was being abused, experiencing something horrific, and not understanding the purpose.
Furthermore, I just felt like my back was against the wall. I had just left a fellowship, moved into my new apartment, and needed to rebuild. All I could think about was how I needed to survive from the end of June to August when I ️ would receive my student refund. I had no other means of income. I just needed to figure out how I would survive and deal with the trauma that I experienced just in that short period. I didn't have anything to say other than I didn't do anything wrong. That didn’t help because the Director had it out for me.
When the assistant paused our conversation, she began to scream and yell that the ED had the power to fire me. I noticed a side of the assistant that I'd never seen before. I didn't understand where this energy was coming from. She got off the phone and then a few moments later returned to me and said I was officially being let go from the organization and I would be receiving my check in a few days. It was the most humiliating experience I've ever felt. Not only was I being fired, but I was also told, “I should have thought about my livelihood before pissing the Director off. Before the assistant hung up the phone, she began to cry heavily. Her words to me were: “I’m not crying because you’re leaving, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m selfish but, I don’t want to be stuck with all of this work.” I honestly didn’t give a flying f*ck because I had bigger fish to fry and needed to keep a roof over my head. Before the call ended, she promised me she would help me find a new job, which I knew was nothing more than a broken promise.
That was the final discussion I had with the Assistant before she dropped off my check. The process of receiving my last check was an uphill battle too because I was constantly being told I would be paid on dates and never received payment. For almost two weeks of work, I was only paid $600. I did not fight to sue the organization or desire ever to see their faces again. After that journey, I celebrated my 23rd birthday and faced a summer of scarcity I had never experienced before. I will never forget how being fired and having poverty thrown in my face made me feel.
That journey taught me a lot about recognizing the difference between skin folks and kinfolks and how everybody's politics are not your politics. Overall, it was a traumatic experience. I wasn't compensated for all wages that I earned. The process of my hiring was sketchy. There were just many things that rubbed me the wrong way. I felt like the manager on “The Temptations” hearing the toilet flush, only wishing that I decided to do better. Doing better for me meant thinking carefully next time about weighing my options when multiple doors are open.
As I looked back on that experience four years ago, I wish I would have spoken more life into myself, recognizing that I am worthy and acknowledging that I can make it and have what it takes to be in a much more welcoming space conducive to my growth. Oddly enough, although I never saw myself needing that organization in the future, they’ve somehow reached out to me in different capacities. Instead, I would further my career within policy and work on more significant projects at the national level that has been bigger and much more impactful than the organization's reputation in the community. I will never say I'm grateful for this experience because I didn’t deserve to experience the trauma I️ faced. What I will say is it taught me the importance of standing in my truth—recognizing that everyone who looks like you, it's not for you. Sometimes it means going beyond just rooting for everybody Black, and having the right discernment to align ourselves with rooting for Black people who don’t have anti-Black politics.
