I’ve been a manager for nearly six years. I’ve always prided myself on being fair—firm, yes, but consistent. I believed that clear rules kept everything running smoothly. So when I had to let go of one of my team members, Celia, for being late three times in a month, I told myself I was simply following protocol.
She didn’t protest when I called her into my office. She just nodded, quietly gathered her things, and left. At the time, I thought that was the end of it.
Later that day, I overheard two colleagues talking in hushed voices. “Did you hear what Celia’s going through?” one asked. “She’s been sleeping in her car with her son.”
I stopped in my tracks.
I pulled one of them aside and asked for more details. That’s when I learned Celia had been evicted. Her son was just six years old. With no family nearby and little support, she had been living out of her car, trying to keep life as normal as possible for her child. She’d been late those mornings because she was using the only public showers she had access to—at a church across town—before taking her son to school and coming in to work.
I was stunned. She hadn’t made excuses. She hadn’t asked for special treatment. She was simply doing her best under impossible circumstances.
Continue reading on next page…