Page 29 of Everything We Thought Was True
“Yes!” Brad said, pumping his fist in the air. “That’s the ticket.” He looked like he wanted to pick me up and twirl me around.
Please, no.
We’d reached the elevator bank. I hit the button impatiently. “Is that it?” I hoped this would be the last time he came to me about this case.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting me. I rolled my eyes.
He cocked his head, curious. “So, what gives? Why didn’t you want this case for yourself? I thought you’d be all over it.”
“I’m swamped right now with the Hawke case and a few others I’m handling. Plus, I’ve got some outside commitments that are going to need my attention for the next few months.” I waved my hand in a dismissive gesture, letting Brad know these commitments were not open for discussion.
“Got it. Hey, if you need help, I can assign that new paralegal, Toby, to work with you on the Hawke case.”
“No, I’m fine. I don’t need his help.” My reply came out much more firmly than I’d expected it to.
Brad must have noticed. He put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, I was just offering. Marcus wants him to work with as many of us as possible. But no worries. If you’ve got it covered, that’s cool.”
I was relieved to see the elevator doors opening. I stepped inside and quickly hit the button to close the doors. “Yup, all good,” I said dryly, watching Brad’s face disappear as the doors shut.
I was the one who’d passed this case on to Brad. But I couldn’t help feeling annoyed that I had more experience with this area of lawand he would be the one to try the case. It was hard to sit on the sidelines and watch him gloat.
Why didn’t I take that freaking case for myself?The timing was totally off. That was what I told Marcus. And that was true. I had my hands full. But I realized it might be more than that.
As the elevator descended to the parking garage, my mind drifted back to that 1998 case I’d handled. How jarring to think of it again. It was an important case for me professionally, for sure. But it had also affected me personally. I had a hard time separating myself from the case. It hit too close to home, even though the client was a lesbian, not a gay man.
I sometimes wondered if part of my discomfort was that I had enough knowledge as an antidiscrimination lawyer to be aware of what could go wrong. I saw the ugly side of beingotherdaily. You would think being so close to the issue would help. I wondered if it made things worse. My work often served as confirmation that my fears were well founded, as it constantly exposed me to the hatred that still lived in the veins of our supposedly enlightened society. It was a disease that every person who wasotherhad to live with and be exposed to.
I remembered the day my dad called to ask me the question that would haunt me for years. It was that same year—1998—and I’d been working at the Civil Rights Division for only a few years.
I’d answered the phone in my office. “Lena Antinori speaking.”
“Lena, it’s Daddy.”
I laughed that my father still referred to himself as Daddy sometimes—like I was a little girl. It was embarrassing but also kind of sweet. I was a grown woman with a career, a home, and a husband. That didn’t matter to him.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Question for you—can I be fired for being gay?”he blurted.
His question stunned me into silence. And that didn’t happen often. Then I found my voice.
“Why? Did something happen at work?”
“No. One of my friends told me that, and I thought it was nuts.”
“Well, federal law doesn’t cover sexual orientation discrimination. And there are only a handful of states that cover it. California is one of them, but the statute is still fairly new, and it’s pretty weak in its coverage. It’s somewhat untested by the courts, to be honest. So even though technically an employer can’t fire you because you’re gay, it still may be a tough case to win.”
“Wow, even in 1998? You’re kidding me,” my dad replied.
“Yeah, it’s absurd. It’s something we’re working on changing. We think the landscape is going to get better and better, with more states passing laws that have some real teeth. But right now, it’s risky to come out at work. I wouldn’t recommend it, Dad.”
It was my dad’s turn to be silent. I waited, letting him gather his thoughts.
“I wasn’t thinking of coming out at work. I guess I’m more concerned someone may find out and tell my boss.”
“That could happen,” I said. “So I suggest you lie low. I don’t mean you should lie exactly, but maybe don’t be too open about it. You’ve heard the phrase, ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’? Kind of like that. Is your boss the type that may retaliate against you for being gay, even though you’re such a great worker?”
“I don’t think so. But I don’t want to take any chances.” My dad sighed.
