which I’d never experienced in my career. Things eventually got so bad that he withdrew all my work assignments and forced me to check in with the office secretary whenever I left my desk, even when I had to go to the bathroom. I was a six-figure director with high-profile accounts and a sterling reputation and suddenly I reported to the secretary when I had to pee. It was humiliating, dehumanizing and overtly discriminatory. Anti-gay jokes became de rigeur around the office, especially when my boss and his cronies were in front of me.
I reported the abuse to human resources and hired a lawyer; I did everything you’re supposed to do. I’m no shrinking violet. But nothing changed. My lawyer said our state had no gay rights non-discrimination law so I was out of luck. Finally, one fateful day, my boss stood outside my office, loudly making an anti-gay joke. Something snapped. I gathered my stuff and walked out. I jumped in my car, put down all the windows on a crisp March morning and blasted “Better Days” all the way home. It was so long ago, but I remember it clearly as a liberating moment. I never went back, leaving behind a plum job but I didn’t give care. Some things are more important than money, like dignity and integrity. I have NEVER allowed anyone to treat me like that since and successfully changed careers to do advocacy work that is fulfilling and rewarding and actually helps people. I have never regretted that choice, not for a second.
After the “All for You” era, Janet played the Super Bowl and I hosted a party to celebrate. I still remember the NFL.com’s homepage when it announced Janet as the halftime performer. The headline read boldly, “It’s JANET!” She was officially America’s sweetheart, being celebrated by 100 million people on the highest-rated TV show of the year. We all watched the halftime show on a big screen TV; downstairs, I was taping it on another TV (yes, I still had a VHS in 2004). When the “wardrobe malfunction” happened, we all rushed downstairs to review the tape. I had an ominous feeling. Thus began years of racist, misogynist treatment by the media and public. I immediately saw the performance as a protest against the Puritanical Bush administration that had manipulated the country expertly in the wake of the terrorist attacks. That view was validated when Michael Powell, chair of the FCC at the time, years later admitted he was pressured to go after Janet and make a big deal out of an exposed black breast.