I Was Only Following Orders

DISCLAIMER: The characters and event in this story are fictional. Any similiarity to real persons is purely coincidental.

My grandmother warned me. I should have listened.

“That sounds like a bad situation to be walking into, Ellen, sounds like trouble to me,” she said.

“Hmmm…. you have a good point; I’ll think about it…”

And I did, think about it, I mean, but decided the opportunity was just too good to turn down. It was flattering to be sought out for a job, and besides, my grandmother hadn’t been in the workforce since her twenties, and she didn’t know what it was like to work in my field – it wasn’t like other occupations, the people were nice, it wasn’t a cut throat environment. It couldn’t be that bad.

There was no denying though that my grandmother was a shrewd judge of character. She had lived a long life and dealt with all shapes and kinds. There was that time we walked down the street, and the man who built the fancy new mansion greeted us with a big smile and a friendly hello. “Hi! My name is Robert Miller. We just moved in last week so we’re your new neighbours. Please let the kids know they can come and swim in the pool anytime they want.”

“It’s great to meet you, I’m Carol Anderson and this is my grandmother, Gladys.”

I thought to myself, “what a neighbourly and generous guy” and smiled and said hello back.

We had barely rounded the corner when my grandmother exclaimed, “There’s a crook if I ever met one!”

I was appalled and told my grandmother she shouldn’t be so mean. Three months later he was arrested on charges of cocaine dealing. Yet again, my grandmother was right. Yes, I should have listened.

But this time it was different. I was a single mother of two, engulfed in the aftermath of a bitter divorce. Every day seemed a struggle. At first, I had no idea how I would support my family, then I fell into the part time job as Receptionist at a large government-funded cultural heritage facility. I gradually worked my way up and now was being offered a job as a manager. I never dreamed I’d go beyond a minimum wage position. The increase in salary would help me buy a house and besides, it did wonders for my self esteem. I accepted.

But as my grandmother noted there was a catch. The department was engaged in a personnel conflict. At the head of the conflict was my new boss, who had it in for one of the employees named Janice, who had criticized him. I didn’t realize just how nasty it was until I got there. It had created a war zone of sorts, with the staff divided down the middle, half in support of Janice, half against her. The expectation was that you would be on one side or the other.

I had worked with Janice. I knew her and liked her. I also knew my new boss, Charles and liked him too. I felt very flattered that Charles, whom everyone including myself admired, had wanted to hire me. He was young, Avant Garde, elegant and educated. Janice was older, down to earth, with a raw sense of humour and honest to a fault. It was hard for me to believe that two nice people could be mired in such a hostile clash. What had happened?

It was the second day on the job, and I sought out my co-supervisor, Victoria, to ask her for her take on the situation.

“Charles is a very smart guy, with great ideas for ways to improve the institution. Janice just can’t accept change, and her old school point of view just doesn’t work here. Charles has a vision for the site which will take us into the future. She needs to get on board.”

Okay, that told me in no uncertain terms which side of the battle lines Victoria was on. I had also worked with Victoria and knew her to be someone who drew her cue from whoever had power and fell in line accordingly. Charles thought very highly of her. She seemed surprised that I appeared to have not made up my mind already, and suddenly turned away and said she had work to do, terminating the conversation abruptly. I was beginning to get a bad feeling.

The next day, I was talking to Janice in the hallway about an upcoming event. Charles suddenly appeared from around the corner and looked towards me with a keen look in his eye that made me feel uncomfortable. Suddenly I felt as if I was on trial, that my words with Victoria had not remained private.

Weeks passed as I tried to learn the ropes of being a manager. Being in charge was new to me. These were friends and colleagues, and I was now in a position to wield a certain amount of power over them. Staff made little attempt to hide their feelings about the Janice/Charles battle and often shared more than I wished them to, obviously trying to sway me in one direction or the other. I told them I did not make judgements based on second hand information. I would form my own opinion based on what I observed firsthand. All the “cool kids” were on Charle’s side.

I remained bewildered, unable to see what Janice had done to deserve this. Charle’s outward appearance as a rational, calm intellectual contradicted his angry response whenever Janice’s name came up, or the nasty look in his eye whenever they were forced to pass in the hall. until one day, I managed to grab a few minutes with Janice on our way to the parking lot. I asked her what had happened. She said that two months ago, she had been upstairs by the office and unintentionally overheard a conversation between Charles and one of his favourites, Thomas, the Marketing Manager. They were talking about staffing issues.

“I only caught the last few sentences, but it was enough to make my blood run cold. I thought Charles liked me, but he was saying, “eventually I hope we can get rid of all the old ones and bring on young, attractive replacements. Image is everything.” I knew he meant me. In the last two years, most of the other retired ladies left one by one… His Highness’ new policies have forced them out, for example the revision to our contract that we were forced to sign, adding the Battle Museum to our duties. But it was his comment about “old ones” that really got me. I knew that he meant, because we were old and wrinkled, we didn’t present a good image for the site. He only hires young good-looking ones. I went home and cried that night as I told my husband, it made me feel so awful. I lodged a complaint with human resources, for which he can’t forgive me. He denies he ever said it so it’s his word against mine. I feel like he’s out to get me now.”

“I am so sorry that this is happening, Janice. I don’t know what to say”?

“It’s okay, I know you are in an awkward position as you are Management now. I don’t expect you to contradict your boss. I’m hanging in. I have the Union, they’re helping me, and I’ve got my husband and my friends – Daniel, Christina and Francine are standing by me, and that makes me feel better.”

“Well, I hope you can go home and relax a bit. Please say hello to Robert for me.”

As I drove away, my mind churned. Was Charles not the man I had imagined him to be? My instincts told me that Janice wasn’t lying.

I checked the personnel files the next day, and saw numerous complaints in Janice’s folder, documenting petty criticisms, such as her uniform being wrinkled or being 5 minutes late. Most of the staff seemed to fall in lockstep behind their boss, and shunned Janice. They wanted to be on the winning side. Charles found any opportunity he could to find fault with Janice, until one day he asked to speak to me in his office and informed me that I must place Janice on the next schedule for the Battle Museum. The schedule was due in seven days. She also must be told to obtain her firearms acquisition certificate to demonstrate the muskets in the War of 1812 programme.

“But I thought she didn’t want to go there, that she’s against holding guns?”

“Well, it doesn’t matter, she signed a contract, she has no choice.”

“I feel uncomfortable forcing her against her will due to her strong feelings, and I think she was brought up as a Quaker.”

“Well let’s just call it an Executive Order.”

Many sleepless nights followed. I tossed and turned. I asked my family and friends. They all thought I should do what I was told. “You’re not in the Union now. They can fire you if they want if you refuse.” I was new to the game and naïve. I searched the human resources directory for someone to advise me, found “Labour Relations,” thought it sounded likely and called the person in charge, not realizing they were there primarily to defend management AGAINST labour. Mr. Phil Bates answered, and I presented my dilemma. The answer was not what I was hoping,

“You are a manager now. You are expected to be seen to support your manager. If you don’t, it’s insubordination and you can be fired immediately.” Feeling defeated and dejected, I hung up.

I even consulted the Minister at my church. This time, I felt understood. He could see the torment it was causing me, being asked to do something that would hurt someone, and went against my values. He suggested a compromise – rather than refuse, which could cost me my job, and I did have children to support, I could submit a written letter, stating that while I would carry out the order, it would be under duress, and then I could state the reasons I felt it was wrong and unethical.

The next day, I brought my letter to work and thought it only fair to share it with my co-Manager, Victoria, let her know what I was doing, and if she wanted to sign it too, she could. Victoria made her answer clear:

“I admire your courage, Carole, but I am not going to risk MY job by signing that.”

Shaking, I folded the letter, put it back in the envelope and handed it to Charles in his office. I turned and left. Later that evening he called me at home and reiterated – the order had not changed, and I must be the one to hand it to Janice. I felt like I was now in the cross hairs too.

The next series of events happened in a blur – Janice refused and placed a grievance. I was ordered to attend the grievance meeting on behalf of Management. All this time, Charles holed up in his office or took vacation days. I felt like I was hired to do his dirty work, while he hid behind my skirts. In the end the grievance meeting never happened. Janice’s husband had a heart attack. She said it was from the stress, and she quit. One month later, there was a re-structuring. It was announced that Victoria would stay at the site, but I was being transferred elsewhere.

Six months after my transfer, I got a call from the Human Rights Tribunal. I told my story, and fortunately, still had the letter I wrote to Charles. Charles was found guilty of violating Janice’s human rights. One year later he was fired. The next year, Phil Bates was arrested for assaulting his wife so badly he put her in a coma.

I still had a job but always wondered – If people will obey orders out of fear of losing their job, what would they do if they feared for their lives. What would they do if they were asked to push the button in the gas chamber? I think I had learned the answer.