My friend works for an Art PR firm, so she does things like promote up and coming museums and exhibitions. She is savvy and completely up to date on all the goings on in the art world. Recently, she was working incredibly hard and long on a new museum opening. She had given over many an evening and weekend during the final push… A few weeks ago, she went to her boss, a senior member of the PR team and asked him about potential Compensation Time. Understanding that her time and energy are valuable, she wanted to have the over-time reimbursed in some way. Maybe take a day off during the next work week? But the man-boss chuckled at her and said very matter-of-factly that only senior members of the team are eligible for Comp Time and that junior members had not earned that privilege yet. Subtext: Busting your ass for no reward is just an expected part of the cutthroat terrain….. Get used to it, or get out.

My friend then took a hard long look at the Senior Members to discover that most of them are men… as compared to the Junior Members… yes, ALL of them women. Not wanting to be a reactionary alarmist, she listened to him and accepted the fate of her work’s top-down culture. But just as she was about to turn on her heal and leave, he handed her an envelope and thanked her for her hard work. He had that father-knows-best quality about him as he pressed it into her hand. She returned to her office, pleased that her efforts were being appropriately recognized and compensated in some way. Maybe she was not eligible for Comp Time yet, but at least she was being compensated monetarily…. a bonus on top of her fixed salary.
Her pupils relaxed and she found her breath again. She was able to reconnect with her sense of self worth and worth as a laborer. Things were far from ideal, but at least they felt do-able, malleable, hopeful. Back at her office, she eagerly opened the envelope to take in the amount. Maybe she could take her girlfriend out for dinner? (They’d had far less time together lately because of the time demands of her job)… It would be nice to celebrate, to have a nice romantic date, to have some time together that wasn’t dictated by stress or exhaustion.
She peeled back the envelope to discover something on mauve colored paper. Why was her check colored? She pulled it out. It was a gift certificate to the salon/spa down the street. One hundred dollars. Subtext: Get a haircut and make yourself pretty, then you will feel all better. Or maybe a salt scrub. Or maybe some treatment for all that PMS you’ve been having — is there a special massage for that? Or put some cold cucumbers on those burgeoning crows’ feet. Something, just do something to quell your desire to be seen as a valuable, whole person. My friend was appalled… would they give that kind of “compensation” to a man who had been working extra hard? Would they send him to the spa? Or maybe to BestBuy? Or would they simply, pay him the money he deserves? Gift certificates are wonderful gifts for friends, family, lovers, but they are not adequate overtures for hard working employees, especially in lieu of Money or Time. The saddest thing about it is that the PR firm presents itself as “down”… it’s progressive and “with it”. It has a black friend. It hires smart women. It went to liberal arts school. It drinks lattes. It has all the right accoutrement. And yet, at its very core is this intense misogyny that goes right under the radar.
Any thoughts?
Mucho love,
cassmaster