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Locked in a Box with No Escape


Ava Collopy

The trauma of a hostile workplace cannot be measured
Growing up in poor neighborhoods being chased by
Would-be rapists was not traumatic the incessant way
Of knowing every single weekday I had to go in to that same office
Stuck between two women, in a tight corner, while they shared jokes
And the boss ran me up with tasks out of nowhere, leaned over my shoulder,
Interrupted me, criticized me, watched and monitored my every little action constantly
Yelling at me, sometimes for 10 minutes solid – about little things, stupid things!
And would become enraged at any suggestion she wasn’t wonderful
Nice to those who stroked her ego and psychologically violent to everyone else
Her moods and personality swinging like a caddywhompus pendulum
The non-stop tension of never knowing when she would next explode
Was psychologically damaging with ever-present stress in a way that the periodic
Runs for my life, or raising fists and screaming bloody murder to keep
Would-be rapists away did not traumatize me because I could get away from it
If I could fight hard enough and run fast enough there was an escape
But there is no escape from your workplace, day in and day out
That job you need bare minimum six months in before you can be hired
Into similar roles, so you are mired in non-stop office politics drama b.s.
Of women laughing and dancing circles around you, intentionally
Sending you out-of-office for tasks while they have their pep talk with the top boss,
And their candy bars the boss brought in—given to you as an afterthought
A show of how this new boss doesn’t know or value you
Because you don’t eat sugar, like everyone else at work knows
A hollow gesture that gets granted a hollow smile
I would literally take running for my life from a group of teenage boys at 15
Over being locked in that box with those women and no escape.

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