“Oh What a Tangled Web We Weave” or also “Censorship at Work”
Work drama, blah blah blah, someone found my website in their browsing history on their computer at my workplace. I was not the one who put it there. She changed her password to ensure that I would not be able to use her computer several weeks ago. I know this because today she told the boss. And the boss told me. I have received an oral warning on appropriate conduct in the workplace and have been handed several pages from the employee handbook with highlighted sections on Sexual Harassment issues.
My boss, whom I respect very much, told me in a friendly and sensitive way that given the conservative nature of our company I need to adjust my website with a password so that it’s not accessible to the public.
This happened around noon.
It was a long day at work today, working from 7am to 10pm. There was an evening class that I not only have to prepare classroom materials, but also attend as one of the students. Between setting up for class and start-time I had a forty-five minute break. During this time I left messages on my three, trusted confidants’ voice mails and had myself a little cry. I just couldn’t help it.
As barely-substantial as it is, I love my job. I love the people with whom I work, I love the nature of the work, and I love the professionally conservative environment. To find out that one of my co-workers that I truly like has been shouldering a secret horror over my artistic lifestyle, smiling at me for weeks as if nothing is wrong, devastates me. The mysterious circumstances under which my website appeared in her browsing history is troubling as well. But most upsetting is the fact that I’m put in a position to choose between my job and the integrity of how I present my art. I certainly cannot censor myself. But how am I going to pay the bills?
Tomorrow I’m going to explain to my boss that I cannot place a password on my website, and even if I did, there is no way to keep other images coming up on a google search. My work has found its way into at least two Nashville online articles and is soon to be included in a David Leddick book. As I resume submitting my work for art exhibitions, it will only show up more and more online. To hide my online portfolio behind a privacy password indicates self-censorship, hypocrisy, and a severe lack of professionalism. Hopefully she’ll let me give a two weeks notice, because I only have food money for about a week.
Inside my head I’m such a normal person. How is this my life?