Send questions about the office, money, careers and work-life balance to workfriend@nytimes.com. Include your name and location, or a request to remain anonymous. Letters may be edited.
Not a Dog Lover
I’ve started a new job at a small, private, predominantly white company, and I am one of few African Americans in the overall company. The others are working from home, as they are tenured employees. It is a VERY dog-friendly environment, and I do not like pets or animals of any kind. My co-worker’s dog is allowed to walk around the office freely, as if it was a human being. The dog has no concept of personal space and gets extremely close to me after we have an awkward staring match. I feel compelled to lightly pet it, because my white co-workers are watching my interaction with the dog. I fake-smile and pretend like I’m OK with it when I am tortured on the inside.
I overheard other co-workers discussing that they may bring their dogs in the office, too, and it’s honestly making me feel super uncomfortable. Now, this is a predominantly W.F.H. job, so there will be few times where I will actually have to be in the office. But while I’m still in training I do have to show up in person. Everyone else in the office sees no issue with the dog being present and in fact encourages it. I already feel slightly out of place as the only Black person in the office, and I don’t want to ostracize myself even more by saying I hate dogs/animals So should I just suck it up until W.F.H. kicks in — or should I say something?
— Anonymous
First of all, we need to address your discomfort with being one of the only Black employees in your small company. Been there, done that. (Most of my life, in fact.) My experience is one where I’ve felt both like I stand out among my (white) professional peers by being Black, while at the same time feeling invisible to them as a human. One of my experiences with this involved a smarmy white manager in a small private company who hired multiple women of color to serve in roles below him, a savvy sleight of hand that made him look politically progressive while at the same time providing cover for his lack of curiosity about the actual lives they led and his contemptuous manner toward them when they dared disagree with him about, well, anything.
Why do I bring all this up? Because you say that you don’t want to be ostracized “even more,” a phrasing that suggests you already feel punished at work in some form or fashion. And, because your letter makes no mention of challenges that relate directly to your job performance or any negative professional feedback you’ve received, your choice of words suggests something sinister, namely that you’re being (or feeling!) punished for being Black.
I’d ask you to sit with this for a moment and ask yourself a few questions. Have you felt this way from the beginning? Have you noticed a difference in treatment toward your other Black colleagues? Would you feel comfortable approaching one or more of these colleagues for a discussion about how they’ve navigated this mostly white space? These are not questions you necessarily need to answer right now, but they might help you better understand your current work situation and feelings of alienation.
On to the dog(s). I’ll admit that it’s a lot more difficult for me — a big animal lover — to put myself in your shoes, especially because the dog you describe doesn’t sound threatening, just annoying. (Most dogs are very people-oriented and affectionate, so it’s hard to expect them to adhere to human concepts of personal space.)
It’s also hard for me to tell whether your dislike is rooted in fear, which would change things, in my mind. Why? Because I don’t think saying something about disliking the dog is going to go over well with your colleagues. (As a pet owner, I hate to say it, but it’s true.)