Will Work for Money.

Since entering the workforce at 16, I've become increasingly aware of certain aspects of corporate accounting departments and the people between them and employees.  I'd like to talk about that today.  Stick through the complaints; there's a point at the end.

I got hired at an Atlanta suburb branch of a major video rental chain in 1999.  I filed my paperwork, got my uniform and exhibited an almost preternatural ability for alphabetizing VHS's and DVD's.  Three weeks into my job, I asked where my paycheck was.

"Oh, I don't know.  I'll ask accounting."

Two weeks after that, I asked where my paycheck was.

"Oh, I don't know.  I'll ask accounting."

A week after that, I asked where my paycheck was for the third time.

"I forgot to tell you, accounting says we can't pay you until we have a scan of your driver's license."

In Georgia, any underage driver was automatically added as a driver to his or her parents' car insurance.  For white males under 25, that came at the average sum of $250 a month and in the 1990s, working part-time after school for $6 an hour would rapidly devolve into me working just to afford car insurance, so I hadn't bothered to take my driver's test.  After haggling with corporate on the phone, I talked them down to accepting a state-issued photo ID.  I told my boss this, and he decided it was a good enough reason to close the store down in the middle of the day and buy me lunch at a fast food place, talk about being in a gang when he was younger and then hang out with me in the DMV, all of which while we both stayed on the clock.

I've never looked happier in a photo.  It's a bigger grin than I'm wearing in my wedding pictures.

My first paycheck from the video rental store came in seven weeks after I started, which was about a week after we went to the DMV.

At 24 I scored my first management position at a Richmond-based location of a prominent video game retailer.  I filed my paperwork and my boss gave me an off-brand debit card.

"When you get paid, it'll just go on here," he said.  "Call this number to activate it, they'll give you a PIN number and you can just go to ATMs and withdraw cash.  If you really need to have your money go into a bank account for some reason, you can set up direct deposit after your first two pay cycles."

Immediately my mind jumped to ATM fees.  I thought about the almost-complete lack of places that would accept payment from a card that wasn't sponsored by a major brand.  I wondered how, since ATMs only allow for withdrawals of money in $10 to $20 increments, I'd ever get access to the remaining money in my account.  "If my check is for $438.17, how do I get that $8.17?" I asked, staring at the spinach green debit card.

"Oh, I don't know.  I'll ask accounting."

Further concern mounted when the card itself had a zero balance after my first two weeks of work.

Even further concern mounted when the card itself had a zero balance after my first three weeks of work.

I asked my store manager and my district manager once per week about being paid for the job.

"Oh, I don't know.  I'll ask accounting." 

In the middle of working my sixth week without pay, I put them both on a conference call and gave them an ultimatum for which I was never forgiven.

This particular company required a manager to be in the store at all times.  I and my store manager were the only managers working there at the time due to his penchant for throwing things and threatening to hit his staff - and HR's refusal to take action against it.  We all knew, though none of us mentioned, that if I quit, he would have to work double shifts seven days a week until they found a replacement for me.  The overtime alone would cost the company a fortune if he didn't just have a nervous breakdown and shutter the doors, leading to fines from the mall and immeasurable loss of business.

"I'm not working for free anymore," I said.  "I've found and filled out the direct deposit forms for my personal checking account and since it's technically been two pay cycles since I started, I'm faxing them in to accounting today.  If my five weeks of back pay aren't in my personal checking account by the end of the week, I'm leaving my keys on the counter after I close Sunday and not coming back."

I faxed the paperwork in 30 seconds after we hung up and every penny I was owed was deposited that afternoon.

In 2012, six years after graduating with my BA in journalism and fast on the heels of turning 30, I scored my first freelance gig writing for one of the biggest video game journalism websites in the country.  I sold them my first article for $100 and a check was sent to me a few weeks later.  I sold them my second article around the time I got my first check and delivered the copy and my invoice (this time for $200) 12 hours after accepting the assignment.

Three weeks after submitting my invoice, I followed up with my point of contact - my editor - regarding my paycheck, which in the grand scheme of things is not a large amount of money.

"Oh, I don't know.  I'll ask accounting."

Another week passed and I followed up again.  I didn't hear back so I followed up a third time and he didn't write me back again.  This time I decided to employ a different tactic than the video rental store and the video game retailer.

After the first month passed with no pay, I went to the video game website's corporate page and found out who my editor's direct superior was and emailed them describing the situation.  I was assured that he would ask accounting, but when I didn't hear from my editor's superior after three days, I wrote him again to follow up.  Again, I got no reply.  A week after contacting my editor's superior, I revisited the corporate website and found his superior's name and email address.  I emailed this new contact describing the situation and I was assured that they would ask accounting.  Three days after this, I wrote back again and asked for more information.

It became a pattern.  I emailed someone on Monday explaining my lack of pay and was assured almost immediately that the accounting department would be made aware of my situation.  Later in the week, having not heard back, I wrote again.  The following Monday I escalated the situation to the previous contact's superior.

It took three months and over 40 emails before I reached the CEO.  With no higher person to complain to, I explained to him the situation and forwarded him the names and email addresses of every person I'd spoken with since submitting my article and the invoice for it.  I also forwarded to him every chain of emails I had sent since that time.

My paycheck was overnighted to me from across the country the next day.  I burned every bridge I had at that company, including work references for future employment at other places, because higher-up employees than myself and the accounting department couldn't be bothered to write me a check for $200.  If you averaged it out, I earned that check at about $15 per week.

Now, first off, consider this.  These three are just the examples I've chosen to write about.  I have a half-dozen other examples from a half-dozen other jobs from my younger days, all exhibiting nearly identical patterns.  Smoothie shops, coffee shops, other retailers, restaurants - you name it, I've been told accounting would be contacted.  It's also happened on the other end, when I've commissioned people for work and only had it delivered after escalating my complaints to the point of publicly embarrassing them.

Second, by the time I invoiced my second article for the gaming website, I'd noticed a common thread through all these experiences.  In all of them, my initial complaining and moaning was brushed off.  It took last resorts of either threatening, embarrassing, or accusing companies of illegalities in order for them to pay an employee for work he had already performed and for which he was already owed compensation.  And when said employee finally raised enough of a stink to talk himself out of a job or future jobs with the company and get the payment process moving, they were fully capable of processing and delivering that payment within a 36-hour period.  Not six weeks, not three and a half months, but in a little over one working day.

Third, and most importantly, I'm no anomaly.  This happens to people all the time.  Forget about me, now; I'm only vouching for the truth of this story because I lived it.  The bigger concern is that it's happening right now, likely to someone you know, who said they can't go out to the bar this Friday because they just want to stay in but in reality has $3 in their bank account - not due to fiscal irresponsibility, but because someone never checked with accounting.  Or because accounting hasn't bothered to print that check.  And often they haven't bothered printing the check because they know if you're willing to chase a $200 check for three months you can't afford to take a multimillion-dollar business to court.

Finally, when you're 16 and living with your parents, going a few weeks without a part-timer's paycheck is not the end of the world.  When you're a parent in your 30s with a car payment, rent due, insurance bills, an empty fridge, an emptier medicine cabinet and work functions to attend, it's a very, very different situation.  With a full adult set of responsibilities, a paycheck that arrives late by even one week can result in hundreds of dollars in late fees and penalties accrued by unsympathetic banks, credit card companies, doctors, car dealerships and apartment complexes.

I don't believe there's a grand conspiracy between employers who withhold paychecks and companies who charge late fees for recurring payments not made on time.  But they certainly do seem to perpetuate predatory business practices like payday lenders and line the pockets of credit card companies.

Check up on your friends, pay your employees and deliver for clients in a timely fashion.  Life's hard enough as it is; we should be making one another's days better, not worse.

Prythi.

This year I want to talk about a question that arises on social media so often it finally came to fruition.

"Why isn't there a Straight Pride Parade?"

With no insult intended, the call for a Straight Pride Parade ultimately stems from a misunderstanding of the word "pride" itself as it pertains to the Pride movement that brings attention to Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans and Queer(ing) people, abbreviated as LGBTQ.  Let's take a look at the word "pride" for a potential solution of this communication problem.

A quick visit to dictionary.com shows us that the first definition of the word "pride" is "a high or inordinate opinion of one's own dignity, importance, merit, or superiority, whether as cherished in the mind or as displayed in bearing, conduct, etc."

I think this first definition is what many English speakers attach to the Pride movement.  And that's completely understandable - it is, after all, not only a common definition of the word in society but the first definition listed in the dictionary entry.  This first definition of the word "pride" is roughly interchangeable with arrogance, pompousness, a sense of superiority and so on.

Further, every human on this planet, myself included, falls prey to a sort of mental defense mechanism called confirmation bias.  With confirmation bias, when we have a belief about one thing (e.g. "Apples are delicious,") our brains tend to back that belief up whenever we see evidence of it ("Look!  That guy's eating an apple!  See, apples rock!") and ignore evidence to the contrary ("Why are apple sales down?  Those apple haters don't know shit!").

But before going too far down the psychology rabbit hole, let's get back to English.  The second definition of pride is "the state or feeling of being proud."  This is, by and large, a useless definition intended only to display the link between two types of a word - in this instance, a noun and an adjective.  So let's look at the third definition.  "A becoming or dignified sense of what is due to oneself or one's position or character; self-respect; self-esteem."  This is really interesting, semantically.  "Due" means "rightfully owed," not "given by handout."  The rent is due because you've been living in this apartment for a month and you owe me money for providing that for you.  Myself or my character is rightfully owed something.  Please keep that in mind as it will come up again soon.

The fourth and final definition of pride I want to look may tell us the most about this misunderstanding.  "The pleasure or satisfaction taken in something done by or belonging to oneself or believed to reflect credit upon oneself, e.g. civic pride."  We take pride in an honest day's work, in raising good children, in helping someone with no expect of reward in return.  We can walk with our heads held high based on the merits of our actions, especially in overcoming a particular challenge.  In fact, the word "pride" comes from the Viking word "prythi," meaning "bravery or courage."

Now let's apply what we know to the Pride movement and the Straight Pride Parade.

The Pride movement isn't related to the first definition of the word.  It isn't a pompous "looking down one's nose" at the "inferior masses" of straight people.  It isn't an arrogance or superiority complex about being gay.  If you attach the connotations of the first definition of pride to the Pride movement, that's ultimately your responsibility and the onus is on you to unlearn that so you can make an informed opinion.  No, it's not the best/clearest slogan out there, but neither are buffalo wings and we managed to sort that shit out.  Maybe your kid or best friend or sibling is LGBTQ and maybe they mean more to you than a basket of hot wings and deserve for you to parse through fact and fiction.

Instead, maybe the best definition of pride as it pertains to the Pride movement is a combination of the third definition, which equates with self-esteem and what one is justly owed by the world, and the fourth definition, which outlines a quiet sense of accomplishment for what one is or does.  I believe we're entitled to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, which I read in this paper written by this guy.  Seemed pretty important.  I also believe we're entitled to a basic modicum of common courtesy, which a lot of us take for granted.  I believe the Pride movement is stating the LGBTQ community's pride in standing up for their right to life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness and basic human decency.  That right has long been denied them or tried to be taken from them.

Without getting too political, consider this for a minute.  We hold Supreme Court hearings to decide whether or not two consenting adults can marry.  Married couples - U.S. citizens - with adopted children who are also U.S. citizens are told that those children aren't valid additions to their families or the United States.  Someone holding the second-highest elected office in the nation has stood in support of abducting, indoctrinating and providing electroshock therapy to minors.  All of this because of which consenting adult (in the married couple's case) or which consenting similar-aged minor (in the minor's case) they find attractive.  We can love our country and still redress our grievances with its laws, and if I were one of those people affected, I would feel no joy in publicizing when my rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness were not being legally protected or duly given, but I would also feel no shame in doing so.

In fact, if I had the guts to say that to a federal government, or a society at large, I may feel a sense of self-esteem - a sense of pride.

So why didn't we have a Straight Pride Parade before now?  Because it takes no courage, no bravery, no prythi, to walk down the street being openly straight.  Large groups of a majority gay society have never petitioned a majority gay Supreme Court to forbid me from marrying my wife.  Religions formed around notions of homosexuality have never declared it punishable by law or by death if I'm found sleeping in the same bed as my wife.  The legal system has never tried to strip my nor my children's health benefits from my wife's company-based medical insurance.  Cops have never raided a straight bar and tried to arrest all the straight people in it for socializing with members of the opposite sex.  Nobody has ever advocated taking my children from my home to electroshock the straight out of them.

Nobody has ever strolled into a nightclub and killed almost 50 straight people because the shooter was afraid of straights.

Three years ago yesterday, 49 people were shot to death at The Pulse nightclub in Orlando by a man holding an irrational fear and hatred of them that was mostly based on their romantic and sexual orientations.  Not only was this a clear act of homophobia in general, but The Pulse was known as a gay or gay-friendly club.  It was already established in its community as a place where LGBTQs could go and dance and have a round and enjoy a night off of work, knowing that they didn't need to keep their guards up to protect themselves from the citizens or lawmakers who loudly called to deny their life, liberty and pursuit of happiness.

If LGBTQs came onto someone who wasn't interested, they didn't need to worry that that person would be waiting for them outside to kill them or beat them bloody and leave them for dead somewhere.  At The Pulse, they didn't need to fear that teenagers would demand they kiss each other for the teens' entertainment, then beat the shit out of them when they refused.  It was a place where their safety and their ability to be themselves was guaranteed.

Now.  LGBTQ youths whose families reject them for their sexual orientation are eight times more likely to attempt suicide than those who are accepted by their families.  Trans males are the most at-risk.  At The Pulse, those youths knew they were accepted and that they weren't alone.  I don't have proof, but it's not necessarily a huge stretch to imagine that some kids who had gone there over the years, scared of the taboos and attitudes towards gays, chose to keep living because they realized there were other people like them and that things can be okay for them.

My kids are aged 2 and 9.  In terms of their futures, we have no idea who they'll be yet, in any sense of the word.  Neither their careers nor their talents nor their tastes nor their personal lives.  However, should they be LGBTQs, they'll both be aware that their mother and I know there's nothing wrong with that and that we love them and they always have a home under our roof.  They'll know we accept them without hesitation.  They'll know that they'll have a support network in their family, in community organizations and in pro-LGBTQ places like The Pulse.  They'll know we'll fight for their equal rights.

And I'm not afraid of other people in my community feeling differently, because their kids have adults like me and my wife who know they're ok.  And I'm not afraid of other people in other communities feeling differently, because I'm not special or unique - there are people all over the world ready to stick up for the kids whose parents won't.

So, why is there no Straight Pride Parade?  I'm not proud to be straight - because it has never required bravery or courage on my part.  I'm not proud to be straight - because I was born getting everything rightfully owed me in the legal sense.  I'm not proud to be straight - because I've never needed somewhere like The Pulse, because families don't stop talking to straights like me when they figure out we're straight.

But I'll be proud of my kids for being LGBTQ if that's who they end up being.

And I'll be proud of yours too.