The Vine: February 8, 2005
Hi Sars,
I have an ethical dilemma, and I’d really like an opinion from someone who doesn’t know me.
I recently got a very wonderful, fantastic internship, that is fun, relatively prestigious, and is giving me a lot of experience in a field I love. But I think I might have gotten it because I’m female.
This doesn’t come out of left field. At the staff meeting the week before I was hired, my superiors talked about how the interns (about seven in total) were all guys. There’s even a note about it on the agenda. (It’s a pretty lefty kind of place, so they were probably half-joking, half-serious.) Of course, I naturally believe I’m qualified and am doing a good job, but politically, I’m ambivalent at best about many forms of affirmative action, this being one of them. And the field I’m in isn’t particularly male-dominated, so the usual justifications for affirmative action don’t apply. And I can’t help thinking that it’s a good thing that no minority women applied, or I wouldn’t have a job. And that thought horrifies me.
Does it make make me a hypocrite to continue working here? I should probably mention that I haven’t received any indication I’m doing a bad job.
Also, I love all your websites to pieces.
Jaysonina Blair
Dear Jay,
You’re doing a fine job; you don’t know for a fact that you weren’t hired because you’re the best candidate; put it out of your mind.
I can’t say for sure that every single job I got, I got because I rocked the interview; I think on several occasions the boss saw Princeton on my c.v. and was like, okay, done and done. Did having gone to Princeton make me better qualified than anyone to do anything, besides find my way around campus? No. But if it got me a magazine internship I would have been ignored for otherwise, I wasn’t about to insist that they convene a tribunal and find the correct candidate.
This is different, of course, because you think it’s a gender-based hire, but you have no real evidence of that, and I think you’re holding yourself to too high a standard. Go to work, do your best work, know that you deserve the slot based on that. The hiring process is over; focus on what’s in front of you and on doing good work there.
I have a terrible fear of tomatoes and during a bit of a debate about it (of which there are many!!) the other evening, one friend brought up the question, is there a name for this phobia. So I found your site and thought I would ask you if you knew?
Also I have a friend Sarah whom we also call Sars (pronounced like “cares”)! So you are not alone!
Many thanks,
H
Dear Thanks, Now I’ve Got That Song Stuck In My Head,
I don’t believe there’s a formal term for fear of tomatoes, so I’d go with the classic and evocative “tomatophobia.” Fear of vegetables is “lachanophobia,” so if you’re feeling fancy, you could give it a two-word disease name like lachanophobia tomatitis — or, since you’re presumably also afraid of nightshade, you could name your phobia after the entire nightshade family, of which the tomato is also a member: “solanaceaphobia.”
But “tomatophobia” is the best one, I think.
Dear Sars,
I’ve never written to an advice column before, but I’ve got myself into a jam and I can’t really see the way out. Maybe you can help me.
I’m a freshman in college and I live in a residence hall with about 60 other people. There is a guy here in my building (we’ll call him Calvin) who seemed nice and was friendly to me, and since I didn’t know anyone, I spent a lot of time hanging out with him at first.
But it’s a fact of life that sometimes when you get to know someone better, you find that you just don’t really like them, and that’s how it is with Calvin. He’s kind of annoying, and I’ve made some other friends, so I don’t really want to hang around him so much. And usually when this sort of thing happens, the feeling is mutual, and the friendship just sort of dissipates. Right? But unfortunately, it didn’t work that way this time.
Calvin has developed a crush on me, and I guess since I was always friendly to him, he got the idea that I felt the same way. Just this in and of itself would be bad enough, but it’s complicated by the fact that we live with 60 other people who live for gossip. He started telling people he liked me, they saw us together all the time, he has a single room, bam! rumors are flying. I’m kind of a shy person, and the idea of everyone in my building gossiping (falsely) about me has made me more uncomfortable than anything. I really no longer want anything to do with him, and just feel super-weird about everything.
So now I don’t know what to do. Calvin calls me on the cell phone, and if I don’t answer he comes to the door. I’ve been avoiding him as much as possible, but he doesn’t seem to be taking the hint, and I feel like a bitch besides. I just want this all to go away! I don’t want to have a big, dramatic “talk” with him, because I’ll feel like a character in a stupid teen soap, and also, I don’t really know what to say! “I just don’t like you, go away”? I don’t want to hurt the guy’s feelings. I mean, yes, he is annoying, but still. That’s no reason for me to be rude. I just can’t see any way out of this without making both of us miserable.
Sars, you’re older than me and wiser besides. How would you handle this? I don’t want to spend the rest of the year hiding out in my dorm room! Please give me some advice. I’ve asked my friends and they just say, “Gosh, I don’t know!” Do you have anything better to offer?
Sign me,
Trapped
Dear Trapped,
Sing it with me if you know the words: If people took hints, I wouldn’t have a column.
It’s nice that you don’t want to hurt his feelings, but you’ve got to speak with him, and you’ve got to start setting boundaries for him. Go over to his room, ask him for a moment, and tell him that you’ve heard some rumors and you want to make it clear that, while he’s a nice guy and you appreciate his friendship, you don’t like him that way. Don’t answer any questions; don’t let him whine you into agreeing that maybe you might develop feelings for him; don’t say “let’s just be friends.” Kibosh it, period. You don’t like him that way, you’re sorry, you’ll see him around.
He might ease up on the calling and dropping by after that, but if he doesn’t, just tell him it’s not a good time. I think people feel a certain social obligation to explain why they can’t talk or can’t hang out, but really, there’s no need to do that if you don’t want to. Pick up the phone, say hello, tell him you can’t talk, and get off the call. Answer the door, say hi, tell him it’s not a great time to hang out, and close the door.
Because the flip side of people not getting hints? Is that, sometimes, you aren’t giving them any in the first place. It doesn’t sound to me like you’ve given Calvin any reason to think you don’t dig his company, and that’s fine — you’re trying to be polite — but if you don’t want to spend time with him, you can’t necessarily expect him to divine that when you’re, you know, spending time with him.
Dear Sars,
This is a bizarre question but having found nothing on it anywhere else, I thought I might open it to someone else.
A teacher of mine told me that the Old Bailey in London (the criminal courts) has a justice on top. The justice, however, isn’t blindfolded. After spending time trying to verify this — and yes, it’s true, it doesn’t have a blindfold — I’ve been trying to find out why it isn’t blindfolded. I’ve used the library and the internet and I know the statue is Justicia from Roman mythology, but I can’t find much else on the subject. Any idea? Or, rather, any idea where I can find better information?
Thanks,
M
I searched Google with the words “justicia mythology rome” and came up with this page, which isn’t entirely sure about the blindfold issue but postulates that it was actually an innovation of Renaissance sculptors. Because if you think about it — and this would have been my initial response — if Justice is blind, she doesn’t need a blindfold.
I didn’t investigate any of the other search results, but you might find more resources using that Google string.
Dear Sars,
I read recently on someone’s blog about an issue that also plagues me. She
didn’t know how to deal with it, and neither do I, and I’m sure there are
others out there, so I’m coming to you.
A couple of years ago, my older brother died quite unexpectedly. I am the
third child of four, my brother was the oldest. Of course this is sad and
tragic, and I spent a year in therapy dealing with my grief and the
subsequent family drama. It’s hard sometimes, but I have been getting on
with my life and doing all right. However, having a sibling die young (I
was 28 at the time, he was 35) means that for the rest of the foreseeable
future, I and others like me are going to have to respond to the following
two questions when we get to know new people.
1) Do you have any siblings?
I don’t know how to answer this. If I say I have two older brothers, then
the follow up question is usually “Where do they live” or “Are you close
to them” or something to that effect, and then I have to say that one of
them is dead and that makes the acquaintance feel like a dick for bringing
it up because even after all this time, I know the look on my face tells
them that it hurts me to talk about it. Then comes the awkward silence and
more awkward apologies. But I can’t say that I only have one brother,
Sars, because that feels like disrespecting my brother. I cannot do that,
but I don’t want to take a new person down that awkward path, either,
because it’s awkward, and because sometimes it leads to the other
question.
2) What happened to him?
I don’t want to talk about it with someone I don’t know well. The
circumstances of his death were horrible, and, to be honest, his own damn
fault. But I don’t want to discuss it with someone who didn’t know him or
doesn’t know me really well. (And as an aside, why don’t people realize
that it’s none of their damn business?) So then I either have to tell
them, or I have to say, “I don’t want to talk about it,” which feels rude
and takes us right back to Awkwardville. I don’t want to do that because I
don’t want to start a potential new friendship or professional
relationship off on such a negative note.
These are sort of etiquette questions, I guess, but they are also about
Moving On after a tragedy. If you were in our shoes, how would you respond
to the first question, which is innocent enough, and the second question,
which they should know better than to ask but apparently don’t?
Thanks for your insight,
Sad Little Sister
Dear Sad,
I’m so sorry.
I’m trying to think how I would answer that first question, in your shoes, if God forbid I ever had to, but it doesn’t quite translate, because I only have one sibling…but I think I’d say that yes, I have a brother, which to my mind would still be true. “How old is he?” “He’s six years younger than I.” Also true. Then I’d change the subject — ask the questioner about his family, talk about parenting, just steer the conversation away from Mr. S somehow. If you choose to do that, I don’t think you should be so hard on yourself about possibly betraying your brother’s memory. You’re trying to take the easiest path, for everyone, out of a potentially painful conversation; it doesn’t diminish your feelings for your brother or make you disrespectful.
Or you could just tell the truth; it does create awkwardness, but the etiquette when a death comes up in conversation is quite plain. Your conversation partner says, “I’m so sorry,” you thank him or her, and that’s it. Of course, people tend to flounder after the “thank you,” and because they don’t know what to say next, they grab the nearest available topic, which is usually the inappropriate “what happened?” So, you might just change the subject to one of your other sibs before that happens, but if you can’t pull that out in time, a simple “it’s a long story” or “it’s complicated,” coupled with a pointed nod and a subject change, is fine. You’re not obligated to discuss it.
It’s so hard to know what to say, on both sides of these conversations, but you don’t have to take on everyone else’s social ease — just try to be as graceful as you can if the subject comes up, and if it isn’t a Nick & Nora moment, don’t beat yourself up; you’ve had plenty to deal with already, and if you make a couple of people a little uncomfortable, try to keep in mind that that’s more about a fundamental societal discomfort with other people’s grief than it is about you not handling it right.
Pick responses that feel appropriate to you and that let you keep your emotional privacy, and the rest of it will fall into place. You’re doing fine. Give yourself a break.
Tags: boys (and girls) etiquette rando the fam workplace
I know that this is an ancient Vine post and no one’s going to be reading it, but I just wanted to say “word” on Sad Little Sister’s post.
My brother died a couple of decades ago, but I still feel like I’m denying his existence when people ask the dreaded sibling question. My work around has always been to say “I have two sisters” but you know what? People always follow that up with “So, no brothers?” and part of me wants to respond “what did I just say?”. Because, yeah, then we have the what happened moment and really, the answer, suicide, is not something any party to the conversation wants to get into.
I know people are just making conversation, but I wish they’d be more attuned to the fact that an apparently inane question may be more of a minefield than they think.