Borrowed Spine

You know you don’t have to send that email?

What if those two paragraphs save someone else? Hmm? Have you thought of that?

Click. Email sent.

Let them come; you are ready.

Greta had lost count of how many times the spine had won this game. This time, it reared its ugly head after a month-long battle with her supervisor.

For the past four weeks, Greta had been fighting for her team's dignity. She’d had enough of the late nights and early mornings that didn’t come with a paycheck. But no one was speaking up. Clara, the floor manager, chose to avoid a confrontation; Tim, the operations manager, preferred to ignore the situation altogether, so it was left to her, the latest hire, to bring it up.

But that was never her. She was always the scared, quiet girl in class, minding her business, the girl who only won arguments in her head, the girl who spoke with a shaking voice, and the girl who avoided confrontation like the plague. The girl with no spine.

Most of all, the girl who yearned for her grandmother’s courage. At seventy years old, her grandma was her biggest role model, stoic and beautiful. And then, she wasn’t here anymore. At least not in this realm. Grieving her loss took weeks; she didn’t report to her previous job for a while, eventually quitting and spending all her time rewatching This Is Us. 

But grief had also given her something. 

“Can I see you in my office?” A voice said.

Greta was arranging the latest eyeliner packages in her assigned aisle. But she knew that voice very well. And what to expect in that office.

“Sure,” she said as she wiped her hands on her fading uniform. Another thing she needed to fight for.   

“Have a seat, Greta,” the voice said. “We need to talk about your email and…the issues you raised.”

Of course we do for the hundredth time, she wanted to say. She nodded instead.

Her supervisor, Annie May, was not the friendliest person in this company. In fact, she was terrifying. That explained why Greta was in this predicament. Her hands were already shaking, and she could feel her throat drying up.

“Can I have some water?” Greta said with as much strength as she could muster.

“You are new here, yes?” Annie May asked, looking at her with disdain.

Greta could only nod.

“This is not how we work. We have a clear policy for raising an issue. And anyway, everything you mentioned is being taken care of. The management will give us feedback in a few months.”

That was an answer. But was it really?

The spine showed up. “How many months? I think we need to get what we are owed first this month before proceeding.” Greta was surprised that she was even talking.

Annie May slumped back in her chair, visibly pissed. “Listen here, little lady, there are guidelines, and I’m telling you what we are going to do.”

“And I’m telling you, it’s unfair.” Greta was now standing, furious that she had lost her cool. When the spine took over, she couldn’t stop it. Her voice became clear, her words flowing uncontrollably as if she had been quiet, holding in her thoughts for years. 

At first, she hated it. She wanted to go back and be that girl that everyone liked. The one everyone called nice. The Greta everyone would say yes to everything. 

But grief had also given her something. For the first time, she dared to say what she wanted. It rattled a lot of people. But it pleased her. 

And now, standing in front of Annie May, she felt confident. 

“I’ll give you this. Why don’t you go back to work, and we can organize a meeting tomorrow. That works for you?” Annie said after a few minutes of silence.

“Yeah. I’ll be here. Can we do this with the rest of the team leaders?”

“Of course, let them know. Meeting at 9 in the morning.”

The next morning, Greta and her three colleagues sat across from Annie and the HR manager, Nessy, in the tiny boardroom. Tension was evident. Everyone looked at the other side like the enemy.

Nessy spoke first. “Thank you all for coming. I’ll make this brief since I have another meeting. Here’s the deal we are proposing.” She passed some papers around the table. “You’ll be very happy with it, I know. We are…”

“This is too little,” Clara, the floor manager, interjected before Nessy could even finish. 

“I agree; we need a ten percent increase, or a set overtime rate,” Greta offered. She was glad someone else spoke first; that was progress.

“We can’t give more than this. You know how the company is performing at the moment,” Annie May said, looking at Nessy for support.

Nessy took a completely different route. “This is what we have, and if anyone on the team is not satisfied, I’m sorry, we may have to let you go.”

Greta’s hands were starting to shake. She wanted to say something, but she couldn’t find the words. Where was the spine when she needed it? Looking around at her colleagues, she could read the shock on their faces as they realized their jobs could be at stake. And she was fully responsible. She had convinced them to come to this meeting, giving reasons why it would be a great idea.

Her mind was now spiraling, thinking about all the ways she could have done this differently. Maybe she should have followed the policy as Annie May mentioned.   

And then a memory of the greatest woman she knew jolted her back to reality. You can handle this. You are smarter than you think. She had already lost one job; she wasn’t going to lose another one in the same year.

“What if you spoke to the management and gave us half of what we are asking? We asked for a resolution within this month; we don’t have to agree on a set deal today.”

Everyone turned to look at her. 

The spine was back. She was no longer shaking. But her colleagues were livid; she could see it in their eyes. If she was reading their expressions correctly.

Annie May and Nessy exchanged a look that said, This one is really crazy. What does she think this is? A union negotiation?

“We could do that, but can’t promise anything,” Nessy responded as she made her note in her big red diary.

“I think it’s a good idea too,” Clara said, which surprised Greta. She really thought she had blown it.

“We are in agreement then; back to work.” Annie’s voice pierced through the room. For a team supervisor, she surely knew how to kill the mood. 

Thanks, grandma. A borrowed spine works just fine.