Speak Up

SPEAK UP

Now

Hoffman Books prides itself on having a “speak up” culture. They require their employees to undertake online training dedicated to it. If you do not do the training within thirty days, you will receive daily reminders urging you to partake. If you don’t do it after three months, they will contact your manager. In the training they show examples of scenarios in which you should speak up if you think something isn’t quite right. Racist colleague? Tell your manager. Sexist boss? Tell HR. It is every employee’s prerogative, and duty, to speak up about goings-on that are morally questionable, and in turn make a change. This is the first time Shirin has done so at Hoffman Books.

Lilian sits across from her in one of the narrow meeting rooms angled in the shape of a triangle. Between them is a coffee table that holds both their green teas and a conference telephone that Lilian is never able to work. The walls are navy and there is a quote in silver from one of Hoffman’s bestselling children’s books that was subsequently turned into a blockbuster film: THERE IS NOTHING MORE MAGICAL THAN BELIEVING. It is in a whimsical font and is surrounded by stars. She thinks the quote could be applicable to many things, including religion, but the book is about a girl who befriends dragons who carry her around a magical world as she goes on various quests. So, not quite the same.

They have spent the past half an hour rattling through Shirin’s tasks for the week ahead when Shirin says, “I have something I need to speak to you about.”

Lilian looks at her more attentively with those words, closes her notebook, and nods. “Of course.”

Shirin recounts Sally’s story at the author party. “It was racist,” Shirin says. “I’m not sure we should continue publishing her.”

Lilian’s eyebrows draw together and she leans back, looking off to the side. “It’s a sad truth that in this industry we won’t always work with people we like. Sally’s books are never problematic—in fact they are very empowering to women—so I don’t think we can, as you say, not publish her anymore because of an offhand comment she made at a party. Do you understand?”

She’s not sure what she expected, but this quick dismissal, oddly, isn’t it. She thinks through what she says next, resolving to use the coded publishing speak she’s spent years hearing and inadvertently soaking up. “I just think if we ignore this, it sends the wrong message. We talk a lot about being more inclusive in our publishing and welcoming everyone, so to have an author who openly says the things she does…”

Lilian initially appears taken aback by the pushback, even if it’s less direct than Shirin had been previously, but then she smiles at her with her teeth. “It was an offhand comment, Shirin, by an author in a small group at a party. Please do not think any more of it.”

And that is that.

“I do have something exciting I’d like you to begin working on, though. There’s a diversity and inclusion team being created within the company. As it’s something you’re clearly interested in, I thought you’d be keen to be the nonfiction representative, but I obviously wanted to check with you first.”

When Shirin asks Lilian what it would entail, she says Shirin would help the team create a booklet about things to look out for from an editorial perspective in terms of the language used and essentially how not to be racist (though this is not how she phrases it). This is contradictory to the conversation they’ve just had, but Shirin is defeated and so tells Lilian, “Right. Okay, yes, of course.”

She leaves the meeting dejected, with an excess of performative work, on top of her actual work. She will, of course, receive no additional pay for doing this work, either.

Not only is Shirin left unheard, but worse, she feels small, like her concerns are immature and na?ve. And the issue with this gaslighting is that seeds of doubt have been planted within Shirin about how effective it is to use your voice. She will go into said diversity and inclusion meetings and be told of the importance of speaking up, of calling out racial biases, of Doing the Right Thing. People will nod and agree how crucial it is. Someone, a brave person who either does not take being dismissed to heart or hasn’t had it happen to them before, may even flag that it’s not as easy as calling it out, and they’ll be met with blank stares. Denials, maybe. The cycle will continue.

Shirin finds herself stuck between loving certain parts of her job and detesting others. Stuck between wanting to stand up for what’s right and being shut down.

In reality, it is futile to speak up.

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