A reader writes:
Recently, I was on one of those courtroom shows. I regret it intensely. When I was contacted by the producer about a case I’d filed against someone else, he was incredibly friendly, said that I had a great case, etc., and made it seem to me that they were entirely on my side. I did want to confirm with my boss that it was alright for me to appear on the show, and I did have reservations myself, but the producer and associate producer were so approachable and eager to have me in a really supportive way that I felt, well, supported. My boss said it was alright so long as my employer was not named — this was relevant, as I work for a government department. I told this to the producer who confirmed that this would not be an issue — verbally, but he did not confirm this in writing. I naively assumed the best.
Well, when the taping happened, the first thing the judge demanded of me was to state my employment and department. She then proceeded to ignore the piles of evidence I had and instead reamed me for being impoverished — how dare I not have enough money, all the time, for everything. The fact that I had accepted financial help from others in the past made me inherently dishonest, in her opinion. That alone, she decided, made me guilty of being a bad person, and she refused to hear my case. After all the goodness I had gotten from the producers, I was shocked and humiliated. Yes, I know I’m poor. I know how embarrassing it is. I stay in my job because I like it, because the benefits are good, and because there are raises in the future. But I’m not rich. Forgive me.
Anyway, when I thought I’d be vindicated, I just ended up being yelled at for being a poor person and having everything I filed the case for summarily dismissed for being that poor person — not because the evidence wasn’t there (the judge looked at two pieces of paper and didn’t care about the rest). It was a deeply dehumanizing experience, and the fact that I was asked up-front about stuff that I was told I wouldn’t have to reveal for my job’s sake was obviously problematic.
i just want to leave this whole incident behind me. I’m still employed, for the time being, anyway. The issue is that as soon as the commercial for the spot aired, a coworker approached me and cutely asked for my autograph. I mumbled that the experience was horrible, but he kept talking about my “celebrity” status like I was supposed to find it endearing. Ugh. So many people in my personal life can’t seem to wrap their heads around why this wasn’t just a barrel of monkeys for me and so much fun and an amusing and fulfilling time in my life, no matter how often I tell them to let it go and not mention it to me. Now my coworkers are in on it, too. I wanted to sink back into my office chair until I become one with it, unrecognizable, merely furniture.
And, worse of all, since our office is open to the public, people can stroll in and recognize me at any time. Some of them might agree with the judge’s decision (not because it was a valid one, but because just as the judge was awful, other people can be, too) and grill me for it; others might be sympathetic; and still others might just shriek in delight at having seen me on television and excitedly not-shut-up about it. I want and need to do my job, but honestly, if people keep insisting on talking about it, I’m going to snap and start bawling.
Look, I know I’m gonna get a lot of “You should’ve known better”s and all that. I was stupid, so stupid, for being so trusting. But do I really deserve to not get on with my life, to not constantly be reminded of the time I was very publicly degraded on national television?
How do I tell people – coworkers and the public/clients alike – that it’s not up for discussion? If they persist with wanting to talk about it, what’s the best mode of action? Do I refuse to serve people who get offended that I won’t entertain whatever show-related stuff they have to say to me? I have enough on my mind, and I don’t need this further hassle.
I wrote back to this letter-writer and asked, “Has anyone other than that one coworker talked to you about this yet? I couldn’t tell from the way your letter was worded whether other people were bringing it up, or if you’re just worried that they will.”
So far in person at work, just the one coworker. I was talked into visiting a small restaurant yesterday evening and was recognized by people there, although luckily, they were sympathetic. I missed work yesterday simply out of fear – although all of my social media accounts are deactivated, some people with apparently too much time on their hands managed to dig up accounts from websites I haven’t been on in months or longer, just for the opportunity to find a way to send me a message mocking me, debasing me, or calling me names, along with the typical range of insults about my weight, etc. I managed to stay up most of the night getting the comments deleted, but I was still surprised that people would go to such lengths.
I refuse to watch the program, but from what I’ve been told, they did manage not to name my specific workplace, thank God, since my job would’ve been on the line if they had.
Well, this is horrible, and I’m so sorry it happened to you. There’s a strong tone of blaming yourself in your letter, and I want to push back against that. You trusted someone who misled you. That happens.
It’s true that reality television is not exactly known for its commitment to reality, but you’re being too hard on yourself for trusting that producer. They’re trained to get people to trust them and to agree to things they later regret; that’s their job. So I hope you’ll cut yourself some slack.
As for work (and even outside of work), I think this is going to be a short-lived problem. The episode is out now, and the promos for it are now, but television — and people’s attention span for this kind of thing — moves on really fast. What you’re experiencing now is almost definitely not what it’s going to be like two months from now. It’s going to die down.
The good news is, only one person at work has said something to you, and no clients have. It may stay that way! But if anyone else does raise it with you, you can say, “It was a really bad experience and I’d rather not discuss it.” If you’d like to say more than that, you could even say, “I learned reality TV doesn’t deal in reality — that was as fictional as any soap opera is.”
As for how to handle clients or members of the public who won’t stop, even after you very firmly say “It’s not something I can discuss”: I don’t think you can flatly refuse to serve someone over this, but is there a coworker you can ask to take over in that situation? You could prepare the person beforehand that you might need to do that occasionally in the next month or two and ask if they’d be willing to step in if that happens. If that’s not an option, you can simply perform whatever you work you need to do for them while being pointedly polite — and pointedly not engaging with anything they say about the show.
Truly, though, I think this will die down sooner than you think.
how can I get coworkers to leave me alone about a humiliating TV experience? was originally published by Alison Green on Ask a Manager.
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