The Fools Journey

Hello. My name is Cortney, and I have a problem. I cannot pretend to respect adults who bully, degrade, exploit, put down, discriminate against, stereotype, manipulate, harass, assault, threaten, harm, or emotionally terrorize others no matter what reasons they have, or what logic they have adopted to convince themselves any of the above actions are acceptable behavior for an adult to practice. There, I said it. The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. I like problems, I’m a natural problem solver, I love to mediate between two opposing parties, I live for debate and conflict. I’m a recovering drama addict, and regular disruptor.

In fact, a few years back when I went to work for a large corporation I was over joyed to learn that they encouraged disruption! It wasn’t until I was fluent in the vague bureaucratic language of corporate America, the moneytheistic vernacular of Useless Jargon (UJ), I came to fully understand what disrupt translated to in UJ, *Ideas are gold, but belong to your supervisor. All languages have words or phases that carry a different connotation than the root word, even common American English plays subtle games with the meanings of words, take labor for example, when I had my first child they said I went into labor, which means work, in Latin it meant toil and trouble, which conjures up the archetypes of Shakespeare’s cauldron tending witches. Witchcraft is labor, witchcraft can arguably be considered toil and trouble depending on the paradigm of the individual prone to make such an argument. Curious that a word that was born in toil and trouble would come to stand before us as the fate all men and women born into the modern world will eventually be enslaved to, labor, it’s depressing when you think of it that way.

That’s precisely why I refused to see work through that lens for most of my life. It’s demoralizing to sit with the idea that we are created from the labors of our mothers only to be forced into labor for the benefit of others for the remainder of our short lives. Sure work has its benefits, but in our current society if the work provides enough money to support a family, it almost always is unfulfilling, and worse yet if it does in fact provide a living, in addition to being enjoyable work, and makes the world a better place, we torture ourselves and others for the audacity of the contentment such an ideal life would attain. Especially if you were born a woman. Multiplier if you’re a woman of color and bonus points if you can check any “special interest boxes” like LGBTQ, single parent, if poverty is a factor, or mental illness. Chronic illness, too short, too tall, too pretty, not pretty enough, too intelligent, too funny, too creative, too trusting, too nurturing, or not enough or both or really at all. For the purpose of this essay woman is a fluid concept, as gendered norms are a social construct and not defined by biological standards. There is no standard life for a woman yet we tend to be treated as if our existence comes with it a variety of expectations that my cause, that I will outline in detail here, seeks to address.

I feel that I’m uniquely qualified to inscribe these carefully compiled complaints with the world, additionally I am actively seeking support in getting my message of hope to a larger audience. The mission is simple, we as a collective people need to stop working so hard for those who don’t care about our well-being. We as collective sub-society of women need to recognize that we live in a world that was not built for us, that we are not possessions to be owned but half of the population, that our unpaid physical labors are no longer going to be given freely to those who seek to exploit us. In order to achieve a world of equality for women we need to make a commitment to ourselves, and each other to collectively stop giving away our emotional labor to anyone who demands it from us, and lastly to recognize the unique magic of our existence on this earth as the creators of life pooling the impetuses of feminine energy towards the common goal of bringing purpose back into the labor services we provide. We need first, to fill the needs we ourselves require to live comfortably, then turn our talents into efforts towards others if we have created abundance and choose to share our gifts, for a reasonable price of course. In short it’s time to reassess the market value of women’s unpaid labor.

This might sound silly, or a stretch, and that’s ok, it took me a long time to get where I am now. Let me share my story with you, the naked truth about who I am and how I came to write this invitation to join me in a crafty revolution spawned on social media with the ambition to take it as far as we can up the dodgy ladder of American Economic Power dynamics.

You already know that I’m a recovering drama addict, but like you I carry numerous labels around with me, here are a few more for context:

I’m a single mom,

I’m a cancer survivor,

I’m a former baker,

an ex-business owner,

former Stock Broker,

and Current Unemployed Tarot Card Maker.

I quit my job during a world pandemic. I broke off an engagement. Cut my immediate family out of my life. All in the last 365 days. I was fool to do it, but don't all great journeys start with a fool? Like Alice down her Victorian rabbit hole to paraphrase my favorite author on all things Tarot, Rachel Pollack. I listened her books on Audible while I processed fancy money movements for people with more money than I have ever seen, or will likely earn in my lifetime.

You might be thinking that I was taking advantage of my Work From Home (WFH) job by listening to an Audible book on the clock. Learning something that we exclusively want to learn about while getting paid, and paid well, for 8 hours straight? Can’t be legit! To be honest, listening to my Audible books on everything from the history and folklore of Tarot cards to more traditionally “serious” forms of Anthropology were the only times I produced tangible work for my recent employment disaster. *Side-note* Since I signed all sorts of agreements to never share the details of my work upon acceptance of the role, and was reminded of this contract obligation once again when I was being fired from the role- because I refused to be silenced regarding my sexual harassment victim status- I can’t tell you what I did in real terms, so I have to be intentionally and overtly vague by law.

Do you find it odd that I can’t legally explain what I did for a living for two years of my life? I have always lived by the rule that if you have to do something secretly, it likely shouldn’t be done. For example, if you’re in a relationship that you have to lie about or keep it intentionally vague to nosey peers, relatives, and friends than maybe you should re-think the relationship. However, we all sign away the right to tell our own life stories with nearly every good paying job we accept. What job for a publicly traded and hyper regulated industry would need that degree of secrecy? The Finance industry of course.

More importantly, what does finance have to do with Tarot and Anthropology Audible books? Absolutely nothing- yet- for the purposes of this Pro-Great Resignation Propaganda Essay I present to you here, absolutely everything. Last summer I had an epiphany about the industry I worked in, I needed to find a way to tell my workplace horror stories with the world so that we can normalize the act of defending ourselves against the machine of big business, re-brand the labels associated with victim-hood, all while warning the world of the finance industry’s true purpose, without getting myself into a position to be sued to oblivion by the Industry itself for revealing Trade Secrets* which is just UJ for “fraud.”

The final hurdle I had to Problem Solve, UJ for fixing an inefficiency in the way something is done, is answering the question I’ve been ignoring myself until life all piled together into one massive mental breakdown a year ago. Why do I want to tell stories about work at all? We all hate shop talk, it reminds us of the chains we are bound by, but I believe it’s more than that. It is true we are all chained to big labor but those chains also bind us all together. Since we are all in the labor-pool of doom together,why not use our collective strengths to overturn a corrupt labor system that enslaves the world to fast fashion, and ourselves to meaningless box ticking and duct taping rituals to use David Graeber's terms? I make it sound easy, but please, consider the possibility that fixing all of our own issues is possible if we just do what we enjoy and what we are good at rather than what “They” tell us. They=Big Business/Big Money/Corporate America

Labor is something we as a society have collectively agreed is unpleasant, and therefore both beneath us to discuss socially yet too lofty of a problem for us as individuals or even a collective to solve. That confuses me because I for one want my life to mean something even if I am only a woman. I hear a former colleague of mine ask, if you want women to be equal why shouldn’t you work too?

I do work, more than him, I labor raising two children alone, I labored hard at my paid jobs, and I labored harder still by maintaining my dignity working alongside men. All three are fulltime jobs, yet only one of the mentioned three are paid. I’m judged harshly if I fail at a single one, even if the failure occurred in a single moment. I’m willing to bet this sounds painfully familiar to all women reading this wether they are brave enough to admit it. That’s why I decided to write this, I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m regularly judged too harshly, even by myself in my own negative self talk than any man I’ve ever met. Yet I’m not allowed to say so or I’m pulling the “woman card,” and that is why I turned to Tarot, to make the “woman card” a thing, attached to a recognized existing archetype in order to name the enemies in the battle of female dignity.

Maintenance of female dignity in the workplace is in a word, impossible. You’re never equal to your male counterparts yet you’re expected to run a gauntlet of sexual threats, rumors, policing of your tone, policing of your manner of dress, policing of your quality of work, quantity of completed tasks, ability to roll with the punches, policing of smiles, policing of back pats, policing of your proximity to successful men and women. Policing by those above, below, and sideways. Policing of your willingness to walk up the open stairs in a skirt while the directors sit in curiously situated couches like bird watchers conversing over the “promotion worthiness” of female candidates while ogling the candidates panties in the Headquarters (HQ) lobby.

The one positive part of the vouyer staircases in the lobby is at least the creeps were visible, calling themselves out as they munch on the lunchboxes their stay-at-home wives prepared for them, as they leer at the desperate drawers of exploited women willing to do anything the climb the ladder. My whole working life I’ve been dodging creeps and sexual harassment claims, yes, dodging harassment claims filed on my behalf. We all dodge. When you see a woman break through the wall of masoginy for her case to come out publicly, it seems like a one in a thousand shot. It’s briefly empowering, knowing she decided to declare herself worthy of being treated like a human being, rather than an exotic creature to be put on a pedestal, behind glass, or a deposit in a spank bank. When she sues, she declares herself something of value. The only way the creeps can defend themselves is to argue that this particular female specimen has no value. Have you ever been devalued publicly? I have. Numerous times, because eventually, I default to The Disruptor, the fastest way to silence a female Disruptor is to pull the Victim Mentality card, and the destruction is neutralized. Those are the rules of the game. I hope by defining the rules, we can collectively rewrite them to be just. There is not much justice to be found in Corporate America, however you’ll find quite a bit of justification. Sure, there are laws to protect women, the problem is, they don’t work. No one cares enough to prosecute because if they did an extraordinary amount of men with lots of valuable painty rading expertise would be, gasp!

Unemployed!

Can’t imagine what that would do to the power structure in this country if all men and women who abused the power that the economy endowed them with were to suddenly be inconvenienced with unemployment, well, gosh I bet the whole structure of economy and thus the machine of female exploitation would just collapse! Exactly my point.

What’s the harm in testing this theory? That big business would have to make sure that it’s leaders actually led instead of bullied it’s workers? That women would be valued at the same level as a man? I see no down side... unless you’re an abuser. If you imagine the structure of a corporation like a pyramid, the lowest paid workers make up the foundation. That’s us ladies, we make up the very foundation of our society, we hold it up. We create it, we are the very center of life on this world we have the power to change our stations if we simply commit to inflating our value. It might seem unethical, but that’s because you associate inflation with exploitation of the powerful on the powerless, and that is wrong, however the powerless have been over paying their social value taxes for thousands of years and our value has remained stagnant.

This country operates on the belief that unemployment of those men worthy of pointless desk jobs, and fancy titles is the worst thing that could happen. I disagree, the worst thing that can happen already happens on a daily basis in corporate life. Examples- that single moms, who have to work 3 fulltime jobs at bare minimum get fired, laid off, scapegoated, bullied, assaulted, stalked, and treated like filthy animals to barely make a living. While dodging creeps in the DMs, catcalls, rumors at your kids school, whispers about invented promiscuity, traditional in-laws whispering worse, mothers who like to point out your clock is ticking, husbands who threaten women they work with, and round and round we go.

When I’m honest with myself and set the Victim Mentality label aside to reflect truthfully about the reality of my life I can say with absolute sincerity that I’ve been sexually harassed, to the level of assault, from the age of 15 with my first job all through my life and up to age my present age of 38. I am telling my story here, but also in my Surviving the Dream of America Tarot deck, the evolution of the deck can be follwed on my Instagram page @craftsabbat where I am proposing that we working ladies rise up and band together to declare our independance from the unfair expectations that society assigns to us by gender defult.

Join me on my journey through the wild world of corporate America through the Tarot, and I’ll answer your burning soul questions, why your good paying job that impresses your Boomer parents isn’t fulfilling your life quite the way you thought it should, then support my cause by following my Instagram page where I live out all of my passions, if I win this writing competition I promise to start a Crafting Cult Podcast inspired by my former fiancé that I am calling The Omaha Oracle, where I would like volenteers from corporate jobs to let me read thier cards on air and discuss the unique problems in their workplaces. By joining my cult of craft together we can build a world where we’ll never need to work for others again, we’ll craft our own world the way we want it to look, no matter who you are, what your gender identity, religion, class, race, hair color, weight, current or former job title. We’re not alone, and we can all make it if we support each other, together we can revolutionize and monetize what the American dream never was, for everyone. If I succeed, we all succeed. Pinky promise.