The team meeting ended with a discussion from our leader, “I don’t want to be the asshole, but I need to discuss something with all of you.
“As all of you know, now we’re in our push for corporate donations to BigBigCharity, and part of that is asking all the employees to log on to BigBigCharity’s website and either donate or opt out. As of today, many of the departments have achieved 100 percent log-on participation, but our department has less than 20 percent of the people doing so. I would love to see our team get to 100 percent because it shows that we’re engaged.”
At this point, one of my co-workers said, “I hate getting those e-mails. And I do not think I should have to log on to say no.”
Leaderboy responded, “But that is how we know that you don’t want to donate.”
Then I chimed in, “I would like to offer some perspective on this. First, I know it’s okay to ask employees to donate to a charity, but you run the risk of illegal activity if you’re asking us again because we have chosen not to. You know I’m not blaming you, Leaderboy, but speaking rhetorically here. However, I would imagine that the poor log-on rate is
the actual answer: that people do not want to log on or engage; they are saying 'no' by not logging on.”
To which Leaderboy responded, “I understand that. But the problem is that by not logging on to their site, it shows our leadership that we are not engaged. And our leaders start to ask the question that if the teams won’t be engaged with corporate activity, then why should we be asked to run a multi-billion dollar company? So it’s in our best interest to log on and opt out of any more messaging.”
I choose not to donate when asked, then am given a veiled threat if I don't.
By the way. I did log in and "opt out." It's not worth the risk to allow these retards to either respect that I do not wish to take part or fire me.
And I would say something to HR if it mattered.
“I’m meeting with the hiring manager on Tuesday, and will certainly bring your resume to him in the discussion.”
“May I call you Wednesday to follow up?” I asked.
“Certainly,” she said, “Please, call me. We do not operate under a ‘Don’t-call-us-we’ll-call-you’ system here. I’m more than happy to talk again.”
On Wednesday afternoon, I telephoned, but got the friendly default voicemail message, “You’ve reached Wendy. I am either away from my desk or on the other line. Please leave a message and I’ll return your call as soon as I can.” I did. I also followed that call with e-mail.
Wednesday ended with no response to either. Thursday drifted by without a word. On Friday, I left another voicemail and e-mail to her attention, but to no avail.
Now the weekend is here, and no response.
It is truly mind-boggling that in the day of electronic communication, people have completely discarded professional courtesy. How hard is it to pick up the phone and return a call? How difficult can it be to respond to e-mail? And even if the response is bad news, how hard can it be if you’re a recruiter? Isn’t that your job?
How the hell did you get your job? You? To actually recruit others when you don’t do it?