The real OY board

In my last post, I mentioned the OY board as I was imagining them. Well, today I remembered something about the real OY board, as opposed to the one I was imagining. The real board probably knows about an email I sent in 2009, the year I was fired. ("invited to resign")

Several months after I left OY, one of the board members ran into me at the Trans Day of Remembrance. Actually he'd already left the board, but I didn't know it. He's my age, friendly, upbeat. I didn't see him coming. He grabbed me from behind with both hands and rubbed my arms/shoulders as he exclaimed, "Matt!!! Good to see you, buddy!"

This was the only board member who'd said something so egregious behind my back that it ever got back to me...



It was during the meeting when the board decided to dump me. The facilitator had raised the question of how my dismissal would affect youth. This was evidently one of several attempts he made to slow them down and get them to treat me more decently. Anyways, this board member said I spent all my time up in my office, and the youth hardly knew me, wouldn't miss me, and wouldn't be affected at all. He was the only one who spent much time around OY, so nobody was in a position to gainsay him. And that ended that line of discussion. I think this was the final effort anyone made to slow things down; the moment they realized there was no objection they could make that would accomplish anything.

And you know, when he said I spent most of my time in my office - he was right. But it's not like he could make a blanket statement that none of the youth would miss me or care. There's no way he could have a finger on the pulse of every youth - nobody does. So for him to say that with a straight face, and people to buy it, is just crazy.

I heard about this later on, from multiple people who were there, once I started talking with them about how things had gone down. Each of them brought it up with me independently of one another. I don't remember anyone describing any single moment other than this; everything else was more about the general course of the conversation. But this moment had really disturbed people and stuck with them.

I remember on my last day, at my going away party, seeing one of the youth crying. It was the youth who'd been around the longest - since before OY closed its doors in 2006. I was the only other person who'd been around that long, knew how great OY had been back then, had ridden the same crazy emotional roller coaster, and had said goodbye to all the same people over the years. During my tenure as ED, every time another youth aged out who'd been around that long, I'd count how many of us were left. It was sad and somehow lonely. And I knew when that last one aged out, and I was the last one left, it would hit me hard. I was counting the time until it happened. But as it turned out, here I was leaving, and he was the last one left. And there he was crying. That killed me. And it made me even more upset that someone had blown off any impact to youth.

Anyways, when this board member grabbed me and tried to give me a hearty hello, I was as furious as I've ever been in my life. I turned to him and said, "I don't know what to say to you. I know about some of what you said behind my back, and now you're going to act like this to my face?" If I wasn't shaking with rage, I was probably close. He fell back a step looking stunned and stricken. I knew he didn't have any idea what I was talking about. As I turned to get the hell out of there, he said, "I'm sorry," and I replied, "You should be." That was the end of that.

That was the first time I'd seen a board member since leaving OY, and it re-traumatized me. I was glad it happened, and happy with how I handled it, but it still sent me spinning. The next day, I had the sudden thought that he might try to follow up and make nice with me. I didn't want to think about him every time I opened my email, wondering if he'd emailed me to follow up. I wanted him out of my head. So I decided to preempt any attempt to contact me.

Juan and I were about to meet friends for dim sum, and I only had 10 or 15 minutes. So I quickly wrote an email, maybe 4 or 6 sentences, and shot it off. I don't remember it all, but I'm sure it said "If you had fellow board members upset enough to resign, and your consultant left that meeting so disgusted with how you treated me, how could you possibly think I'd be any less upset than they were? How could you possibly think you and I are on good terms?"

(They'd had one of the most prominent nonprofit consultants in the state facilitate the meeting where they decided to dump me - someone eminently credible and who's seen it all. I heard from a board member that the consultant was disgusted with the way the board treated me and didn't hide it. Months later I saw the consultant, who confirmed this. So it's not like there was no indication something was badly amiss. On my way out, various board members acted as though we were all still great friends. I think they were just in denial that they'd done something questionable at best, rotten at worst. I didn't argue at the time, because I thought if they knew how I really felt, they'd ship me out before I was able to make the transition as smooth for OY as I wanted to. I was also trying to negotiate my severance on amicable terms... and preserve some dignity.)

I closed the email with, "Don't try to communicate with me, and don't fucking touch me, again." Short and sweet.

I'd bet money that the current board knows about that email. It's the kind of thing I'd expect people to talk about and remember - maybe more than anything else I've ever done. People love drama.

Back to that one board member. I firmly believe that he got caught up in the board's groupthink as they were firing me. That statement, that nobody would care if I stayed or left, is the kind of rationalization people come up with to avoid looking at something. It wasn't expedient for them to look at their decision too closely and wouldn't have been comfortable. I doubt that statement meant so much to him as to the people who heard it and told me about it. In fact, I bet he didn't remember it a week after he said it. And if someone told him about it today, it wouldn't fit with how he sees himself. He'd probably say, "I would NEVER say something like that!" - and he'd mean it with all his heart. Such is the power of groupthink and cognitive dissonance.

Anyways, of the board members I had a real problem with at the time, that one was just about the perfect lightning rod for my anger. He was the one who'd said the most hurtful thing about me, and who'd co-opted the youth's legitimate interests to do it. He'd also pissed me off by recording a cheery farewell video segment for me, which was included in the larger farewell video unveiled at my going away party. Needless to say, he was the last person I wanted to see in my farewell video. He was also oblivious enough not to realize what a bad idea it was to run up and grab me from behind like we were great friends. I'm not sure I could have scripted a better setup for me to say what I had to say. It was good to get it out - an important moment in my healing process.