The Star Treatment

By Robin Caldwell

"Sorry to hear you're leaving," said my colleague, "I'll miss you."

Somewhat shocked but highly aware of office miscommunication, I casually stated, "I'm not leaving. Where did you hear that?"

Confusion shrouded her face, she shrugged her shoulders and mumbled, "I thought I heard Ethel* (my supervisor) say you're resigning."

Miscommunication.

Ethel and I met at a local diner for a breakfast to discuss my work at a prominent non-profit. Our conversation went well and as we settled the check, she said matter-of-factly, "I'll need your letter of resignation by Friday."

I replied, "But I'm not resigning. Are you firing me?"

No answer just a telling smirk.

"I'll pick it up Friday," she hissed.

"There's no need to, I'll take care of it." And on that note I didn't fight that chica over the tab; she paid.

Taking care of "it" meant writing no letter. They were firing me and I wanted my unemployment benefits, which I received because there was no proof or letter of resignation.

Thank God for an attorney friend who advised me through the process. Wisdom, knowledge and street smarts enabled me to walk away on my own terms with my dignity intact and a few dollars in my pocket.

Star Jones Reynolds walked away from The View and ABC similiarly -- on her own terms, head held high. And I ain't mad at her.

Until Tuesday, June 2006, Star Jones Reynolds was an enigma to me. I rarely paid her any attention except for the few times I watched The View when she was planning her wedding. Reynolds or Jones at the time was deliriously happy and I, a single sistah, wanted to bear witness.

By Wednesday, June 29, Reynolds was my new best friend, a compadre in the struggle. The day after she announced her departure from The View on The View I KNEW immediately what had happened. She had been unceremoniously dumped by people who wanted her to leave in a way that left their dignities intact. In that way, we were suddenly kindred.

Reynolds became the inadvertent poster girl for millions of black women--educated or not--in America's workforce. She became a face for the indignities and humiliations suffered on a daily basis by Black women, most of whom are single heads of household.

From this day henceforth said treatment will be known as The Star Treatment: punishment for being black, female and BAD. The Star Treatment expects a sistah to lie down and die on command. And it expects us to roll over with a smile fixed on our lips.

Except...

We're not going down like that, which means a reframing of The Star Treatment. Reynolds, me and many other sistahs who've endured that mess, draw heavily on our spiritual strength. And our spiritual strength is based on a God who is, according to Harvard scholar Peter J. Gomes, "ennobling, enabling and empowering."

He says we are noble, can do anything and are filled with His power. So we say The Star Treatment is our controlled response to circumstances that are controlled by evil.

The Star Treatment is about class and dignity; grace under fire; love versus hate; and kindness in the face of utter viciousness.

The Star Treatment also refuses to bow down to rules--unspoken or spoken--that war against a Black woman's precious sense of worth and value. After all, our value and worth are non-negotiable according to our ennobling, enabling and empowering God.

It's going to be real interesting to see how all of this is going to play out. Star, without question, will be fine. She said on a talk show, “I don’t know what the future holds, but I know who holds my future.”