Roz, the IT Ogre
A while back I met “Roz,” a heavy-set, dark-skinned black woman. She smoked a lot. She was had attitude—meaner than a junkyard dog. At least, that’s what people said. Actually what they said was: “Be careful, Roz will bite your head off… I hate asking Roz to look at my computer—she’s so mean about it… Roz acts like she’s doing you a favor by fixing your computer… Roz never smiles, ever! Roz is sooo mean.”
I was young and still considered the company’s “new guy” and people thought I was nice, so they’d tell me what/who to lookout for. Roz was at the top of most everyone’s “beware” list. Come to think of it, I think she was the list and I was dumb enough to listen. So for weeks, whenever I saw Roz in the hallway, we didn’t really speak; I’d just say “hi” and run to the nearest well-lit area.
One day I asked “Dawn,” an older black executive why Roz was so mean. She said Roz never struck her as mean and I should talk to her instead of riding with everyone else’s opinion. So I sucked it up and walked by Roz’s office, and there she was—surrounded by coffee cups, busted motherboards, crumpled cigarette packs, busted mouses, stacks of invoices, hard drives, cables and computer catalogs… It was IT right out of Central Casting. There was this odd silence. Then I took a deep breath and politely asked her why she was so mean.
“Who says I’m mean?!”
“Uh, just about everyone I talk to.”
She half-nods her head and says, “C’mere…”
So I sit down on her couch, which is littered with monitors and we talk. Turns out that Roz doesn’t run the IT department—she is the IT department. Over 100 computers and she’s the only person there to fix ‘em. And they were dinosaurs, too. We’re talking 60 or 70 Classics, a few high-end Mac 7100s, some 3400 series PowerBooks for the VPs plus a few standard PCs—juiced-up word processors, mostly.
Roz had a handful of rules: (1) don’t download files you don’t recognize. (2) Don’t use disks from home unless she scans them for viruses first. (3) Shut down your computer before you turn it off. (4) Don’t leave your computer on overnight or over the weekend. (5) Don’t hit, kick or attempt to “fix” your computer in any way.
We (myself included) ignored or forgot all of her rules. She sent out weekly memos and emails with Do’s and Don’ts. It didn’t matter. We did it our way. As a result, every other computer had a glitch, a virus, or ran like a turtle on codeine. When Roz recommended getting new computers the higher-ups said “no.” When she asked for fresh IT employees she could oversee they said “no.” She was surrounded by folks who ignored her and told her “no” all day long. No, Roz wasn’t happy.
Then one year Roz gets diagnosed with cancer, don’t remember what kind. She goes in and out of chemo and eventually takes time off to recoup. Some folks send cards and whatnot, but for the most part, people kinda block it out. While she’s gone, the company brings in a temp—this white guy named “Dale.” He’s a native Midwesterner, wife, 2.5 kids, friendly, smart, professional, etc. All in all he’s cool people.
Dale comes in, sees there’s only one person to do everything and requests help. Next thing you know Dale gets a budget to hire 2 extra people. He recommends new computers—we start getting them within a few weeks. Dale gets money for supplies, training, and everything he needs to get things rolling properly. For some reason they help Dale, not Roz, develop a decent IT department.
Next, the masses decide they like Dale. He’s seen as a nice guy (which he was). When Dale brings a mini-cooler in his office loaded with beer and Jack Daniels people view it as “cool.” Plus, given how hard Dale is working, it’s overlooked by the higher-ups. Dale also makes it clear to everyone that he’s just holding down the fort until Roz returns. But once that bit of news gets out several employees make it clear they’d rather have Dale than Roz because Dale’s “nice” and Roz isn’t.
A few months later, around mid-December, I spot Roz standing alone in the building’s mezzanine. I walk up to her ask her how she’s doing and when she’ll be strong enough to return full-time.
“I’m not. They fired me.”
They fired her. It was the day of our company’s Christmas party, less than two weeks before Christmas and they fired Roz. Dale took over full-time a few days later. A short memo was circulated regarding Roz’s “choice to move on” and that was it. Roz’s name was rarely mentioned there again.
There were rumors of legal action pending, plus Roz didn’t know me that well, so she never gave me the complete lowdown. But from what I heard it had something to do with her illness. Cancer treatment is expensive and firing Roz meant our company and its insurance carrier could stop paying for her treatment. I also think it had a little bit to do with her race.
Roz was just one of a handful of blacks on staff, which seemed to be by design. Over the years, I saw plenty of black women at various levels of business and society catch Roz-type heat for being seen as “not nice.” Unless they’re always laughing, smiling, or playing the cheerleader role and regularly deferring to others, black women always get slapped with the “mean” label. The idea of black women as inherently mean or overly aggressive has been embedded into America’s psyche since slavery days.
But the most ironic part is that most of this type of prejudice I saw directed at black women came not from men but from their white female colleagues. They would regularly reach into their feministic bag of tricks to pull out their “Aggressive businessmen are ‘strong’; aggressive women are ‘bitches’” cards all while treating black women like crap or clowns.
A couple years later “Carol,” another woman at the company gets diagnosed with cancer. The company sends her flowers, cards, makes phones calls, hospital visits, etc. The company supports Carol 100 percent. People like Carol, even those who don’t fully know her, which is most of the company. And once she gets out of the hospital, the company lets her work as long as she wants whenever she feels able to. She’s allowed to keep her job and there’s never any talk of replacing her.
Then after a few months of a seemingly full recovery, Carol suffers a nasty relapse. The cancer comes back and spreads. Carol passes away a short while later. It shocks everyone. As you could imagine, company morale tanks. Lots of sad days filled with awkward silences and good memories follow. The company is well represented at Carol’s funeral. Though I was in NYC by then, I got a call about her passing plus an invitation to her funeral. To this day people talk fondly of her.
Carol was white.
I was young and still considered the company’s “new guy” and people thought I was nice, so they’d tell me what/who to lookout for. Roz was at the top of most everyone’s “beware” list. Come to think of it, I think she was the list and I was dumb enough to listen. So for weeks, whenever I saw Roz in the hallway, we didn’t really speak; I’d just say “hi” and run to the nearest well-lit area.
One day I asked “Dawn,” an older black executive why Roz was so mean. She said Roz never struck her as mean and I should talk to her instead of riding with everyone else’s opinion. So I sucked it up and walked by Roz’s office, and there she was—surrounded by coffee cups, busted motherboards, crumpled cigarette packs, busted mouses, stacks of invoices, hard drives, cables and computer catalogs… It was IT right out of Central Casting. There was this odd silence. Then I took a deep breath and politely asked her why she was so mean.
“Who says I’m mean?!”
“Uh, just about everyone I talk to.”
She half-nods her head and says, “C’mere…”
So I sit down on her couch, which is littered with monitors and we talk. Turns out that Roz doesn’t run the IT department—she is the IT department. Over 100 computers and she’s the only person there to fix ‘em. And they were dinosaurs, too. We’re talking 60 or 70 Classics, a few high-end Mac 7100s, some 3400 series PowerBooks for the VPs plus a few standard PCs—juiced-up word processors, mostly.
We (myself included) ignored or forgot all of her rules. She sent out weekly memos and emails with Do’s and Don’ts. It didn’t matter. We did it our way. As a result, every other computer had a glitch, a virus, or ran like a turtle on codeine. When Roz recommended getting new computers the higher-ups said “no.” When she asked for fresh IT employees she could oversee they said “no.” She was surrounded by folks who ignored her and told her “no” all day long. No, Roz wasn’t happy.
Then one year Roz gets diagnosed with cancer, don’t remember what kind. She goes in and out of chemo and eventually takes time off to recoup. Some folks send cards and whatnot, but for the most part, people kinda block it out. While she’s gone, the company brings in a temp—this white guy named “Dale.” He’s a native Midwesterner, wife, 2.5 kids, friendly, smart, professional, etc. All in all he’s cool people.
Dale comes in, sees there’s only one person to do everything and requests help. Next thing you know Dale gets a budget to hire 2 extra people. He recommends new computers—we start getting them within a few weeks. Dale gets money for supplies, training, and everything he needs to get things rolling properly. For some reason they help Dale, not Roz, develop a decent IT department.
Next, the masses decide they like Dale. He’s seen as a nice guy (which he was). When Dale brings a mini-cooler in his office loaded with beer and Jack Daniels people view it as “cool.” Plus, given how hard Dale is working, it’s overlooked by the higher-ups. Dale also makes it clear to everyone that he’s just holding down the fort until Roz returns. But once that bit of news gets out several employees make it clear they’d rather have Dale than Roz because Dale’s “nice” and Roz isn’t.
A few months later, around mid-December, I spot Roz standing alone in the building’s mezzanine. I walk up to her ask her how she’s doing and when she’ll be strong enough to return full-time.
“I’m not. They fired me.”
They fired her. It was the day of our company’s Christmas party, less than two weeks before Christmas and they fired Roz. Dale took over full-time a few days later. A short memo was circulated regarding Roz’s “choice to move on” and that was it. Roz’s name was rarely mentioned there again.
There were rumors of legal action pending, plus Roz didn’t know me that well, so she never gave me the complete lowdown. But from what I heard it had something to do with her illness. Cancer treatment is expensive and firing Roz meant our company and its insurance carrier could stop paying for her treatment. I also think it had a little bit to do with her race.
Roz was just one of a handful of blacks on staff, which seemed to be by design. Over the years, I saw plenty of black women at various levels of business and society catch Roz-type heat for being seen as “not nice.” Unless they’re always laughing, smiling, or playing the cheerleader role and regularly deferring to others, black women always get slapped with the “mean” label. The idea of black women as inherently mean or overly aggressive has been embedded into America’s psyche since slavery days.
But the most ironic part is that most of this type of prejudice I saw directed at black women came not from men but from their white female colleagues. They would regularly reach into their feministic bag of tricks to pull out their “Aggressive businessmen are ‘strong’; aggressive women are ‘bitches’” cards all while treating black women like crap or clowns.
A couple years later “Carol,” another woman at the company gets diagnosed with cancer. The company sends her flowers, cards, makes phones calls, hospital visits, etc. The company supports Carol 100 percent. People like Carol, even those who don’t fully know her, which is most of the company. And once she gets out of the hospital, the company lets her work as long as she wants whenever she feels able to. She’s allowed to keep her job and there’s never any talk of replacing her.
Then after a few months of a seemingly full recovery, Carol suffers a nasty relapse. The cancer comes back and spreads. Carol passes away a short while later. It shocks everyone. As you could imagine, company morale tanks. Lots of sad days filled with awkward silences and good memories follow. The company is well represented at Carol’s funeral. Though I was in NYC by then, I got a call about her passing plus an invitation to her funeral. To this day people talk fondly of her.
Carol was white.
