Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
From Brave by Sara Bareilles
One day there was a man interviewed on NPR – I don’t know his name, who wrote a book – I don’t remember the title, interviewed about his book on abuse of power. He believed that at every level, from a Starbucks to Congress, the overseers need to be overseen. I agree.
On September 24, 2015, I almost lost my job at the library. I’d been there ten years.
I started work at the William Hall Free Library with two shifts. As time passed I took as many shifts as were allowed. The pay was low, under $8.00 an hour for years. I loved working there. I loved my supervisor and the branch librarian and the branch librarian who took over when he retired. I loved some of my co-workers and liked all of them. I liked working at the desk. I loved shelving and helping to choose new books for the collection. I liked to recommend books to patrons. I liked to organize and tidy the shelves. I took it all too seriously though we laughed a lot and had fun.
David M. was director of the five branches, a genteel man. When he retired, Ed Garcia became director and soon after Julie Holden became the assistant director. Things changed quickly.
E. G. & J. H. started to enforce overlooked and ignored rules immediately. They wanted to unify and standardize the five branches. Employees had to answer the phones in exactly the same way, changing only the name of the branch. I used to say “hi. Hall Library…”. Now it was “Cranston Public Library William Hall how can I help you?”. I live three blocks from William Hall and knew many of our patrons were annoyed that according to the rules they could no longer pick up books for spouses, parents, friends. Still, rules were rules.
We were tested on our ability to use the computer. We were told the test was not punitive. It was a gauge to see where we might need help. No one who needed help got help. The test made for a lot of stress and worry. After we took it in a room, one at a time, it was never mentioned again.
The air conditioner broke during the summer. Our branch librarian wanted reference materials moved to storage one flight up. Most books looked like the following photo.
I liked doing it. But it was hot dirty work.
The elevators broke.
I was admittedly cocky. After ten years I felt so comfortable there that I thought I could complain and everyone would know how much I loved the place, the people, the work. I did not like the rules raining down on us.
Also, I felt our libraries should give long term part time staff some small benefits. A paid day off, a fund for loss of work due to illness. Other companies and libraries in our state have some benefits for part time staff. I talked about it. I wanted to follow proper procedure. I wanted to talk to the union (NAGE) and to E.G.. I asked how to go about it. In return I got word salad, which means an answer with no actual information.
During the fall, after the computer test, the rules, the heat, we were still being fed new protocols. I was still making $9.00 + an hour. One day we had some new system we were told to learn. It was complex and unlikely to be useful in my job. I didn’t want to learn it. I snapped when a full time co-worker said she’d show me. I threw up my hands and told her to go away. Six of us were behind the circulation desk looking at three different computers. No one saw our exchange.
I felt guilty for snapping at my colleague but also irritated. I knew I should apologize. I didn’t.
A few days later I was called into the small office, “for a quick minute”. The branch librarian and J H, were sitting down. I sat across from them. J.H. said “are you aware of an incident that happened on Sept. 21?” An incident? I was truly puzzled, and frightened. I was accused of physical harassment for placing my hands on a body. I was told there was a witness. I wasn’t allowed to talk to the co-worker or to my supervisor. J.H told me I could be terminated immediately. Then she asked me if I wanted to quit. I didn’t. I was 57. Where would I start again? She asked me three times. I asked my branch librarian, who had been quiet, if she wanted me to quit. She said no. I said no three times.
J.H. handed me what I refer to as the Shit Paper, a list of my evils including physical harassment, insubordination, riling the staff. I had to sign it or be fired. I asked if I could express myself. “No”. I signed that paper so quickly you’d have thought there was a bare bulb and the gestapo waiting to pull out my teeth. I was given a copy of our staff handbook, the section on physical harassment highlighted. J.H. told me to read it, that it was “really well written”.
My shift that day was noon to eight, with a one hour break from 4 to 5, which is when I needed to grab a bite and walk the dog. The ‘meeting’ started at 3:20. It was about time for my break and good girl that I am I told them I had to leave but would be back. In my mind it was to take my break. They thought differently.
I took the Shit Paper and the handbook, went to the ladies room to rinse my face, went down to my car and drove the three blocks home. I cried. I went into my house to get my dog and her leash and went out into the most beautiful fall day. I tried to call my husband but he didn’t pick up. I called a close friend who asked me if I wanted him to do unnameable terrible things to J.H. which made me laugh in between tears. I tried my husband again and got him at work. I told him what happened and I kept apologizing because I believed I would be fired. I told him I didn’t know how I’d make it through my shift.
I made it by popping a Xanax and drinking some tequila. On my dog walk a patron spotted me from her car. She drove over to blather about something and I snapped into library clerk mode, smiling and chatting. I took the dog home and walked back to the library, leaving the Shit Paper and policy book in my car. When I walked in, the day shift were getting ready to leave, including my accuser. J.H. and the branch librarian were standing side by side. J.H. said “where did you go?” I said “I took my break”. They said they weren’t finished. I was ushered back into the room. The door was shut and locked. J.H. asked me for the Shit Paper. When I said I left it at home she made a new copy for me to sign. She said I was not to discuss any of this with ANYONE at or outside of work. If I did, I would be terminated immediately. She said that if I retaliated I would be terminated. I was to be on probation for six months. The Shit Paper would remain in my personnel file f o r e v e r. I said fine. I wanted out of that fucking room. I had to train a new staff member that night. I had to smile and teach and banter. Inside, I fell apart.
I did tell people. I called a lawyer. I called ex board members. What J.H. did wasn’t ethical, nor did it follow their own protocol. I should have been warned, in the presence of my supervisor. She was left out of everything. She was, is my friend. If they’d fired me because I tried to unionize the part time staff I might have had a case but burden of proof would rest with me. I would literally have had to fight City Hall. Our Mayor was pals with Ed. What they did is legal. I could have been fired for NO reason, also legal in 48 states. I think they wanted to shut me up. I learned who the witness was when I retired. She didn’t witness anything. She heard the story second hand, from my accuser. She handed Ed and Julie what they wanted.
The first time I saw J. H.,and E. G. after that day was at a city council meeting. They were voting on whether to raise minimum wage. E. G., J,H., and the mayor were against it. I’d fallen and broken my shoulder in January of 2016. It cost $350.00 in emergency fees and of course, loss of wages. I went back to work a week later, typing in data and overseeing a ping pong program, just to bring in money. I was in extreme pain. I had a studio sale and earned the amount I would have made by selling a lot of art at low prices. I spoke in front of the council, praising the library for allowing the flexibility I needed to tend to my child while my husband was at work. I’d heard that some members of the council believed that part time workers should work full time if they wanted more money and benefits, as if full time library jobs without an M.L.S. were abundant. I was polite. I told them about my broken shoulder, my other jobs as a parent and an artist. I thanked everyone for listening and went back to my seat right behind Ed and Julie. A few days later E. G. was at our branch and told me I spoke eloquently. My heart thumped wildly anytime I saw him, still believing I could, would be fired at any moment.
I created a series of drawings trying to work out my grief. They started as images but then including coded words telling my story.
Then a full time position came along. My husband’s days at the Providence Journal were numbered as their parent company was laying off staff in droves. We would need health insurance and more income. While not believing I had a chance because of the Shit Paper I went for it. I was the most qualified candidate by miles. They dragged out the hiring process for months. It can take as little as a week, or even a day. By this time I was close again to our branch librarian, A.G. I learned as much as I could about the job. I learned about the quirks of our beautiful old building, and who to call to fix what needed fixing.
I bought a dress for my interview. The people interviewing me were the head of circulation, A.G., and J H. For my last question J. H. asked me what my favorite book was and to give a 15 minute plot summary so good she’d want to read it. My favorite book is Anna Karenina. I doubt she has read it.
I got the job. I’d been so anxious about the would I or wouldn’t I that I took up running, hardly eating anything at all. A quarter mile, then a half, one, three, five, 7 miles a day.
I’d seen a therapist on and off during this time. He knew me from years before. He was worried about my loss of weight, my obsession with running and found me a therapist who specializes in eating disorders. I was in denial, disbelief though I’d lost lost around 20 or more pounds. My new position required me to work every other Saturday. I drove to Brooklyn, NY every month to visit my mom, who had worsening dementia. It was a hard time for our family.
When I got the full time position my close friends and my husband felt I was vindicated, which bothered me. I deserved the job. The Shit Paper was still in my file. I felt deeply ashamed that I confessed to something I hadn’t done.
Once in the union I asked them to consider giving benefits to part time staff. To my dismay, disgust really, they had no interest in doing so. They said it would be an “accounting nightmare”. It wouldn’t have been. I had no support.
My anorexia and my mother’s health worsened. I was shut down emotionally. Once every other week I was required to work at our main branch, Central. I called it The Mothership. The premise was that full time staff would feel part of a bigger whole. Julie’s office door opened into our computer stations. Cameras had been installed at every branch, supposedly to catch patrons doing anything from drinking to flashing. The cameras at Central face the employees. Anytime two or more of us were chatting, usually about books or family, Julie would open the door to give us assignments if circ was quiet. She made us a handy list of things we could do behind the desk, “to look busy”. Nothing on the list suggested we read literary journals or reviews.
In 2017 I was sent to residential treatment for my eating disorder (ED). I was away for a month, to be fed among other things. I didn’t get better. I should have stayed longer but I wasn’t able to take more time from work. I kept it secret. I felt embarrassed. I needed to see my mother. I went back to work two days after treatment ended.
One day E. G. sent me an e mail to tell me he’d shredded the Shit Paper. I regret that I thanked him. I think he did it thanks to multiple requests from A.G.
In 2018 my mother died.
Many long time part and full time staff left because of the micro managing style of E.G. and J.H. Most disappeared without so much as a thank you card.
The Library has done good things for the city of Cranston under the stewardship of Ed and Julie. Community outreach, diversity training, eradication of late fees to name but a few. They also had everyone take a virtual anti harassment class. This brings me back to power. There is no oversight of the overseers. There are a board of directors but they are concerned mostly with building renovations, upkeep expenses, and grant money. They have given E.G. & J.H. complete authority to hire, fire, and run the day to day operation as they see fit.
I retired at the end of May in 2019, volunteering to extend my date twice, from early April, because of COVID, which was in its early days. We were the last branch to close, on March 14th, 2019. I spent my last month working mostly alone in the building. I loved every minute. I put every single book in the right place. I cleaned every cd that could be cleaned. I got rid of those that were beyond repair. I put our messy book sale room in order, got rid of junk, moldy items and boxes. I replaced cd and book old covers with new ones as I listened to music. I was able to fulfill my dream of making it perfect for my successor. There were no retirement parties. Ed & Julie did not stop in to say good-bye. They sent me an e-mail. I worked one day short of 15 years.
I’ve been back a few times. The book sale room is cluttered and piled with boxes again. I don’t feel welcome there. Still, it’s my public library. I am the witness.
Lonely artist. 