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  • Monthly Archives: August 2017

    • Why I Broke Up with Corporate America

      Posted at 10:11 pm by kpodulka, on August 25, 2017

      It’s true–we’re over. I broke up and I’m not looking back. Like most abusive relationships, it took me way too long to get out. Twenty years to be exact. But this week was the final straw. Things got so bad that I’m having tee shirts printed which read, “Life’s too short to be crying in a conference room”.

      But wait you say, hasn’t Corporate America supported you for all these years? Put food on your table? A roof over your head? A car in your driveway? To which I must quote my dear friend by answering, “I’d rather eat just one meal a day for the rest of my life than sit in a drab office another day”. And yes, I am fully aware just how privileged I am to be able to quit. My sacrifices will be small compared to most. I understand that it’s not possible for everyone. But what is possible, is for us to acknowledge how we’re treated by the companies we work for and try to improve it.

      Here’s a list of reasons why I broke it off (in no particular order):

      • Sexism/Boys Club/Bro-Culture/Golf
      • Wage gap
      • Bosses taking credit for my work. Literally hours and weeks and months of work. Then presenting it as their own on a call with 100 people dialed in and not one mention of my name. While I’m sitting right there.
      • No respect for boundaries (curse you smartphones!)
      • Feeling like I should be thankful for a job offer and being literally scolded for asking for a higher wage, “Are you negotiating with me???? Look, do you want this job or not?”
      • Lifeless, colorless, soul sucking, cubicles with no windows and recycled air.
      • Sitting for hours straight, forgetting to pee or eat all day
      • Being a full-fucking-grown adult yet asking “can I go to lunch?”, “can I go home now?” “can I just pop into the bathroom?”
      • Performance reviews. UGH! Is there anything worse than having a boss tell you your worth? Literally–by way of bonus, and figuratively–by listing off your successes and misses for the year. Kill me now. I’ve had both good and bad reviews in my career, and they both suck. Good ones reward you with a new title and money, but punish you with a disproportionate increase in responsibilities and a false sense of security. A bad one crushes your confidence and will to live.
      • Backstabbing/Ladder-climbing/Name-dropping/Ass-kissing/Posturing
      • Team building activities, a.k.a forced fun
      • Sneaking in when I’m late and sneaking out when I’m leaving early. Like a freaking criminal. SMDH!
      • Not giving the slightest shit about increasing profits, selling more cars, or clothes, or mutual funds, or greeting cards. But having to pretend 8 hours a day that I do.
      • Business jargon/acronyms/lingo/industry-speak…honestly it’s all absurd.
      • Inflated egos and unrealistic sense of importance. I’m sorry, but unless you are a doctor, pilot, firefighter, police officer, or anyone who FOR REAL works with life and death, sit the hell down and chill the fuck out. There’s no such thing as a “marketing emergency”. I promise you.
      • Missing time with kids and husband and friends. Missing sunny days. Missing the beach. Missing traveling. Missing LIFE outside of 4 walls.

      Now you’re probably thinking, damn girl, what took you so long to quit? You sound like you’ve had a fucking miserable work life. The short answer is I was afraid to quit. The long answer is because working in Corporate America is just what I did. It’s what I went to college for. It’s what 99% of my friends do. It’s the first thing you get asked at a party, “so what do you do?” It was a huge part of my identity. Who am I if not a marketing manager? And I couldn’t wrap my head around quitting without having solidified what happens next. Aren’t we supposed to have a plan in life? Isn’t that what responsible grown-ups do? Well my friends, I took a leap of faith yesterday with no new plans. I quit because it was time. I have outgrown Corporate America. I feel brave and anxious and terrified and exhilarated. I’ll be writing a lot more, that much I know. So stay tuned. Until then, remember my wise words, “Life’s too short to be crying in a conference room”.

      KP out.

       

       

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      Posted in Work Life Balance | 7 Comments | Tagged Broke Up, Corporate America, Quit Job, Sexism, Wage Gap, Working Women
    • Two Worlds

      Posted at 9:03 pm by kpodulka, on August 25, 2017
      (As previously published on the EROC blog: http://endrapeoncampus.org/eroc-blog/)

      I watch my 7-year-old daughter play and I want to freeze time. Not because I want her to stay little forever, but because I want her to live in her 7-year-old world forever. Her world is a much nicer place for girls to live in than my world currently is.

      In my daughter’s world she is free. Free to run topless on the beach, to express her opinion openly, honestly, and loudly. Free to smile at boys, to earn the same allowance as her brother, to raise her hand in class and confidently give the answer. When she looks in the mirror she smiles. She will proudly tell you what she’s best at. She will color a picture, show it to you, and say, “Look how great I did!” She’ll choose clothes to wear because they’re comfortable. She’ll pass gas and excuse herself, treating it like a normal bodily function. She’ll join in a football game at recess, because she likes to run. She’ll eat food because it tastes good. She’ll gladly be in photos. Her only thought when making a decision is, “Will I like this?”

      She doesn’t wear makeup or shave her legs or wax her bikini area. She doesn’t second-guess her outfits wondering if they’re appropriate. She doesn’t wear a pinching bra or painful high heels. She doesn’t color her hair to cover up greys. She doesn’t spend thousands of dollars a year on skin cream to avoid wrinkles. She doesn’t starve herself to be an “acceptable” size. She doesn’t get Botox. She doesn’t read self-help books. She doesn’t question an emotional outburst wondering, “Was that too much?” She doesn’t talk incessantly with her girlfriends about their weight or their exercise routines. She doesn’t suck in her stomach when taking a photo. She doesn’t second-guess herself all the time.

      I think about the things she doesn’t know yet about my world. The things I never want her to learn. The things that will literally break my heart to teach her.

      I don’t want to tell her that she’ll be paid less than her male counterpart for doing the same job. That her career advancement will be tied more to her gender than her skills. That speaking her mind will earn her titles of “bitch” or “drama-queen.” That reporting an inappropriate incident to HR at work will only cause her grief.

      That history books are filled with stories of our founding fathers, but leave little room to acknowledge the women who shaped our world. That the U.S. has never had a female president or vice president. That women make up less than 5% of company CEOs.

      That she can’t go for a run at night without a rape whistle. That she can’t get publicly drunk without being at risk for sexual assault. That she’ll need a buddy-system to get home safely from parties. That she can’t smile at a guy or he may “get the wrong idea.” That she’ll have a dress code at school as to not “distract” the boys. That her college campus will have a “rape phone.” That “boys will be boys” but girls will get the blame for it.

      I don’t want to tell her that she’ll fake orgasms because her partner’s pleasure outranks her own. That boys can talk about masturbating and it’s socially acceptable, but girls have to pretend they don’t masturbate. That movies will freely show a naked woman, but not a naked man. That a man who sleeps around is a “stud” but a girls who sleeps around is a “slut.”

      That her periods are private at best, dirty at worst. That she’ll be judged for how much or how little weight she gains if she gets pregnant. That she’ll only get six weeks maternity leave. That if she gives up her career to be a mother she’s “not contributing” to society. But if she goes back to work as a mother she’s “selfishly” prioritizing her career over her family. That breastfeeding her baby will be a shameful activity that she’s meant to cover up. That her body is her worth, so she’d better get back her to her pre-baby weight right away. That her partner will want sex again soon, so she needs to be ready. That if her vagina stretched too much during delivery, she’ll need “vaginoplasty.”

      This is my world. The world I grew up in, since 1975. How, in good conscience, can I introduce my amazing, daring, free-spirited, daughter to this world in which I live? I can’t, is the answer. So I must fight for her world to prevail! Because her world is a much, much better place for us all to live equally.pic Em swing

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      Posted in Equal Rights, Parenting | 0 Comments | Tagged daughters, double standard, kids, Parenting, rape culture, Sexism
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