When I first moved to New York City, I worked in book publishing, where I assisted two lovely women (Michelle and Jen, hi!). As clichéd as it sounds, we became like a little family during my year at the company. Once, they took turns cradling me in their arms when I showed up violently hungover to our office Christmas party. (I was 22, and it was the holiday season—what can I say?) Our weekly check-ins became like mini therapy sessions. We even exchanged framed photos from The First Wives Club, our favorite movie, with our faces photoshopped over those of Bette Midler, Goldie Hawn, and Diane Keaton.
When I realized I was ready to move on from that job to pursue my dream of writing here at Glamour, I was a wreck about how to tell them—and petrified that leaving would break our bond. Before I quit, I spent a lot of time thinking about their communication styles and how I could make them feel valued. Gifts and notes were a big part of our relationships, so after I delivered the news face-to-face, I gave each of them a card. I peppered my note with anecdotes about the great times we’d had together, inside jokes, and how their mentorship had prepared me to take on my next role. Now they’re still my biggest cheerleaders. We have dinner at least every other month, they read all of my articles, and I stay just as caught up about their lives. It’s not always easy to let your boss know you’re ready to move on, but the very best ones will still be proud of you, as sad as they are to see you go.
We spoke to former employers and employees who still get happy hour drinks, share memes over DM, and go to one another for advice about how they were able to leave the nest, while still keeping their relationship intact.
Give Your Boss Their Due
“Before I became the editor-in-chief of Glamour, I was the head of social media and director of strategy at CNN. My boss was Meredith Artley, CNN’s editor-in-chief. We worked together for about three and a half years, and I don’t think I could be in this job right now if she hadn’t been my previous boss. When this opportunity at Glamour came up, I was actually really happy in my job—so it was surprising that I was leaving.
“When it came time to tell Meredith I was resigning, she was very excited for me. We both shed some tears, and we were mutually very excited as well as mutually upset that we were no longer going to be working together. But she saw it as a big move for me, because the best bosses are your biggest cheerleaders when you’re with them and when you go onto different, bigger, and better things. It was also really important to me to make sure Meredith knew I wouldn’t be getting this job without her. Don’t be shy about articulating how much this boss meant to you. If you’re leaving because your boss has helped you grow into a place where you can take this next job—like mine did—make sure you say that.
“If you want to remain friends with your boss, make sure it’s not just platitudes when you say you want to stay in touch. I reach out to Meredith all the time. I’m always chasing her for dinner and drinks, so don’t just say it—actually follow up. In my first few months at Glamour, I even went to Meredith for advice about some of the things I wanted to tackle in my new role. Make sure to keep them in your corner.” —Samantha Barry, editor-in-chief of Glamour
Be Real With Them
“I was a project manager at an agency in New Orleans for six months. I worked under the COO, and we were close. She was a great mentor, and I spent most of my days in her office working through problems. When I knew I wanted to leave, I had a conversation with her very early about what I was thinking about for my next step, and was honest that I was toying around with a few ideas. Although she didn’t want me to leave, she was able to give me great advice about following through on what’s best for me. She knew that I needed to spread my wings further and didn’t hold back on encouraging me to leave if I needed to. When I finally put in my resignation, she already knew it was coming. The conversation was mainly filled with advice and encouragement.
Many people have taken issue with the fact that First Daughter Ivanka Trump has benefitted from her family background, particularly after she publicly stated in February that she believes Americans “want to work for what they get” instead of being guaranteed jobs. But she seemed to take recent criticism in stride at a white-tie gathering on Saturday night, joking that “the hardest job in the world” is being Donald Trump’s daughter.
According to The Washington Post, Ivanka cracked this joke (and several others) after her dad asked her to represent him at the annual Gridiron dinner on Saturday night, which is attended by politicians and elite journalists in the country.
“The press seems to think it’s ironic that I, born of great privilege, think people want to work for what they are given,” she said. “As if being Donald Trump’s daughter isn’t the hardest job in the world.”
The comment was an obvious reference to the spar she recently got into with Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s. It all started when Ivanka appeared on Fox News and discussed Ocasio-Cortez’s ambitious Green New Deal proposal. Ocasio-Cortez has said that the deal will guarantee jobs for all Americans, but Ivanka made it clear that she’s skeptical.
“I don’t think most Americans, in their heart, want to be given something,” Ivanka said on Fox. “I’ve spent a lot of time traveling around this country over the last four years. People want to work for what they get.”
Ocasio-Cortez quickly took issue with Ivanka’s point of view, particularly because Ivanka has been afforded some undeniable privileges as a member of theTrump family.
“As a person who actually worked for tips & hourly wages in my life, instead of having to learn about it 2nd-hand, I can tell you that most people want to be paid enough to live,” Ocasio-Cortez wrote in Twitter.
A debate subsequently unfolded on Twitter in the following days, but Ivanka didn’t seem phased by any of it when she spoke on Saturday. At one point, she said that because her father had asked her to show up at the last minute, she hadn’t been able to prepare more jokes.
“I figured the funniest thing I could do is read you excerpts from the Green New Deal,” she said, again referencing the AOC idea that got her in hot water to begin with.
Ivanka’s little comedy bit might not sit well with supporters of the proposal—but it’s safe to say controversy is nothing the First Daughter isn’t used to by now.
Work stress is the phenomenon that’s launched a 1,000 articles (10,000? 20,000?) and spurred countless of tips, books, guides, and product recommendations. To ward it off, we’ve put ashwagandha powder in our lattes, we’ve listened to gurus who promised us that back-to-back yoga classes would cure all that ails us, if only we could squeeze them into our packed schedules. But here we are, still faced with one essential truth: All that green juice later, we feel overworked and overextended.
So instead of attempting to solve the perception of stress with a cup of tea or a new mindfulness app, it’s time we view it as an important tool that’s meant to tell us it’s time to step back from our desks and do less.
We’ve spent countless hours reading up on how stress and the emotions that come with it intersect with our lives at work. (The result is our new book, No Hard Feelings: The Secret Power of Embracing Emotions at Work.) Two of the most frequent questions people asked us in the process were how to reduce job-related stress and how to press pause on their to-do lists without an avalanche of guilt. We wrote the book for them (and for you). We’ll get to our best tips in a second, but in the meantime:
Take this quick self-assessment. How many of these statements apply to you?
You get anxious if you haven’t checked your work email for 10 minutes.
When your friends ask you how you’ve been, you start detailing a minor work inconvenience.
Later, you dream about said inconvenience.
You obsess about work during dinner, at the gym, and when you’re trying to fall asleep.
Your mood depends almost completely on how work is going.
If you answered “a lot,” it might be time to take Drake’s advice: “You need to get done done done with work.“
Letting your job consume you is unhelpful and unhealthy. It makes small problems seem exceptional and places too much emphasis on casual conversations and interactions. Plus, it’s not just leaders or women or Virgos who care too much. Tons and tons of people are too attached to their work, and it’s—not to be dramatic—kinda ruining their lives. (Also, there’s little evidence it makes them better employees!) Enter our first new rule of emotion at work: Be less passionate about your job.
Why should you care less? Because it’s solves a lot of anguish. If you put just a little less emphasis on your responsibilities, you’re less likely to hyperventilate (and overthink) before a big presentation. You won’t be as frustrated by incompetent colleagues. You might even put your phone away at dinner with friends and you won’t have dreams about Slack as you backpack through Machu Picchu.
“Be less passionate about work” doesn’t mean “Don’t care about work.” It means: Care more about yourself. Carve out time for the people you love, for exercise, for guilt-free vacation. Remind yourself that few people look back at their lives and wish they had stayed at the office until 10pm.
But while “care less about work” is good advice, it tends to be easier said than done. So to start, we have some advice:
Touch email once: When you open an email, do you have to respond to it immediately? Liz used to read all her emails first thing in the morning and, in an effort to get right to work, would then mark them all as unread with a plan to respond later in the day. That meant she spent the morning obsessively thinking about all the emails waiting in her inbox instead of focusing on her work. Now she sets aside time to go through all of her emails, and then moves on to other projects with a clear head.
Block off a day: One day every week, Liz does not schedule meetings, calls, or even social events. This off day lets her catch up on her work, so the rest of the week doesn’t feel quite as hassled. If you can’t block off an entire day, try blocking off a few hours for focused work on your calendar, so that the time feels just as “real” as appointments or meetings.
Set up an after-work ritual: Your brain will benefit from a signal that tells it, “Work is over!” Walk or bike home, meditate on your commute, listen to music, read a magazine, or lift weights, which some studies show boosts your mood more than cardio. At the end of each day, Cal Newport, author of Deep Work, transcribes loose notes into a master task list, shuts down his computer, and then says the phrase, “‘Schedule shutdown, complete.'”
“After I’ve uttered the magic phrase, if a work-related worry pops to mind, I always answer it with the following thought process: I said the termination phrase,” he writes.
If you’re in a leadership role, set an example: After she had children, TV writer and producer Shonda Rhimes changed her work email signature to read, “Please Note: I will not engage in work emails after 7 pm or on weekends. IF I AM YOUR BOSS, MAY I SUGGEST: PUT DOWN YOUR PHONE.” Dan Calista, CEO of consulting firm Vynamic (whose motto is “Life is Short. Work Healthy.”), created an email policy called zzzMail. Employees cannot send each other emails on weeknights after 10pm, on weekends, or during holidays.
Finally, remember that time off—real, no-thinking-about-work time off—boosts your health and your productivity. Research shows that your productivity actually drops dramatically after you’ve worked 50 hours in a week. Working more than 10 hours a day dramatically increases your risk of heart issues. So if you’ve been burning the candle at both ends, consider this your permission slip to head home, put on sweatpants, and enjoy a night off. Your work will be there tomorrow.
At the back of Blue Smoke, an upscale New York City barbecue restaurant, a quiet table on the edge of the dining room becomes a safe haven. At almost six o’clock on the dot, Tiffany Haddish makes a beeline for our two-top like it’s a bunker. Her bodyguard, Tyrone, trails behind. She’s casual in jeans and a purple tie-dyed tee that reads, “Abracadabra.” We shake hands. She’s a bit flustered.
On the way here, she tells me, she was mobbed by a group of fans who began yelling her name at the top of their lungs. In a bit of #BlackGirlMagic, she quickly made them part of a joke. “I was like, ‘You gon’ blow up the spot like that?’ ” she says. “Then I start saying, ‘That’s my accountant, that’s my business manager,’ ” picking people out of the crowd and assigning them jobs in her imaginary entourage. With the fans properly confused, she and Tyrone were able to extract themselves from the situation. Abracadabra.
Ever since she was a girl, Haddish, now 38, has taken a line in the 1988 comedy Who Framed Roger Rabbit to heart: “A laugh can be a very powerful thing. Sometimes it’s the only weapon we have in life.” It’s an ethos that has served her well. Born in Los Angeles to an African American mother and a Jewish Eritrean refugee father, she was introduced to chaos at a young age. Her dad left when she was three, and her mother, who remarried and had four more children, suffered brain damage in a car accident when Haddish was eight. The injury, Haddish says, triggered her mother’s mental illness and abusive behavior. (“Because of her, I can take a punch like nobody’s business,” she wrote in her 2017 memoir, The Last Black Unicorn.) A few years after the accident, Haddish and her siblings entered the foster care system. When she was 15, a social worker gave her two options: undergo psychiatric therapy or attend the Laugh Factory Comedy Camp. She chose the latter.
There she was mentored by the likes of Richard Pryor, Charles Fleischer (the voice of Roger Rabbit), and Chris Spencer, and began building her name on the stand-up circuit. By the mid-aughts she’d nabbed appearances in TV movies and sitcoms like That’s So Raven and It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. She parlayed those bit parts into recurring roles on Real Husbands of Hollywood and If Loving You Is Wrong, a Tyler Perry–produced drama for the OWN network. Although she had a small part in Jordan Peele’s 2016 comedy Keanu, it wasn’t until her breakout role in the 2017 smash hit Girls Trip that audiences really took notice. With an all-black female cast, the film brought in more than $100 million. And Haddish’s portrayal of outrageous sidekick Dina turned her into America’s foul-mouthed sweetheart overnight.
Suddenly Tiffany Haddish’s name was in lights everywhere. In this month’s Night School, she plays a hard-nosed teacher opposite a diploma-seeking Kevin Hart. The role, she says, was a natural fit. “I don’t mind being a teacher. I always say, ‘If this comedy thing doesn’t work out, I would probably be a sex education teacher,’” she jokes. “I would be the best sex education teacher. I guarantee none of my kids would have STDs after I finish teaching them.” Next up is the comedy Nobody’s Fool, which reunites her with the box-office-dominating Perry. “I worked with Tyler way back in the day and he would barely talk to me. I was, like, number eight on the call sheet. I was low on the totem pole,” she says. “Now I’m number, like, three on the call sheet. It’s a whole other ballpark.”
This new, top-of-the-call-sheet position is something she’s been envisioning. “My opportunities are whatever I create,” Haddish says. “My thoughts from two years ago is what’s happening right now. I really think my thoughts are my magic wand.” And her best friend of 20 years, Richea Jones, confirms that Haddish has always been able to predict her own future. “One day we were coming home from a club, and Tiffany and I sat in my car talking about our dreams,” she tells me. “She was like, ‘I’m going to meet Oprah and I’m going to make her collard greens.’ I’m like, ‘Girl, you’re going to make collard greens for Oprah? OK, we’re going to dream.’ But it really happened, and even bigger, because she made collard greens with Oprah on The Ellen DeGeneres Show [earlier this year], and the whole world got to see it.”
“I didn’t confirm shit. The reporter was like, ‘Sanaa Lathan?’ I’m, like, three drinks in, so of course I was about to laugh.”
Part of that visibility is because Haddish never stops hustling. Her appearance on Jimmy Kimmel Live, where she detailed a flirtatious encounter with Leonardo DiCaprio, quickly racked up a million views. And then there’s the whole “Who bit Beyoncé?” drama, a bit of tabloid fluff she keeps poking and resurfacing through a variety of confessions. I ask whether going viral is always top-of-mind. “What is that expression?” she says. “‘If they’re not talking, then you’re not doing your job.’” (And was she really pointing the finger at Sanaa Lathan in a recent interview with The Hollywood Reporter? “I didn’t confirm shit. The reporter was like, ‘Sanaa Lathan?’ I’m, like, three drinks in, so of course I was about to laugh,” she says. “They thought I put her name out there, but I didn’t. I never said nothing. And Beyoncé didn’t say nothing. Let the person who [bit Beyoncé] bury themselves…. I ain’t trying to destroy this girl. I didn’t say shit about the girl.”)
Haddish may know how to keep people talking, but she has also honed her internal moral compass over the years. While hosting the MTV Movie & TV Awards, where she sported a prosthetic belly during a Cardi B impression and roasted the famous attendees, she drew the line at anything cruel. “Some of the jokes, I was like, ‘I’m not saying that,’ ” she says. “First off, I’m not a slut bucket. Second off, that’s just rude. That’s not even funny. That’s being a bully. And I am not that person, so I’m not about to put that out there. They didn’t do anything to me, so why would I attack them?” (A joke about the Kardashians being like Star Wars—“They make a ton of money, a new one’s always popping up, and they’re ruled by a bossy overlord”—was her favorite, she says, because Kris Jenner laughed.) Audiences loved it all: Haddish, the show’s first ever black female emcee, boosted ratings 21 percent.
Valentino cape. Studio Uribe ring, $199. Oscar de la Renta dress. Wolford tights, $67. Zimmermann boots.
By Malene Birger coat, $740. Tory Burch dress, $1,298. Jennifer Fisher earrings, $325.
Cinq à Sept jacket, dress, $495. ASOS Design sweater, $56. Annie Costello Brown earrings, $363. Tory Burch ring, $148. Wolford tights, $67. Giuseppe Zanotti boots.
She’s also loyal to the ones who brought her. When we talk about Tyler Perry and the criticism that his films perpetuate black stereotypes, Haddish gets visibly upset. “I just think that a person is ignorant when they say, ‘Oh, you’re being a stereotypical black person.’ Well, what’s that? Explain that to me, because that’s an actual person, and everybody deserves to see themselves onscreen,” she says. “I feel like all facets deserve to be seen—from the doctors to the janitors to the baby mamas to the side chicks.” And she’s committed to playing women who look and talk just like her. “It’s funny because people are like, ‘Oh, Tiffany Haddish is ratchet.’ No, I’m your typical chick from the hood. And as ratchet as I might talk, or people might think I carry myself, I am making a living portraying myself.”
Being this self-aware is key to how Haddish navigates her career. She hopes to work with Steven Spielberg and Quentin Tarantino one day. Though she hasn’t heard that Uma Thurman felt pressured by the Kill Bill director to perform a stunt she feared was unsafe, when I fill her in on the details, Haddish doesn’t waver. “I know how to handle people like that,” she says. “I don’t know Tarantino personally, but I would have to meet him and see if we vibe. If I felt comfortable, I would go for it. If I didn’t feel comfortable, no.” She has also known men who gleefully wield their power in insidious ways. “I’ve had experiences where directors or producers are like, ‘You want this job?’ ” she says, her voice dripping with innuendo. “I might get real bossy and say, ‘First off, don’t nobody want to see your little dick!’ I get loud, all that.”
Haddish has had to develop these defense mechanisms the hard way. First, there was the life-altering episode when, she says, a police cadet raped her at 17 years old. “That whole experience put me in such a messed-up place for a long time, and I ended up going to counseling,” she tells me, her voice breaking. She says she reported the incident at the time but still grapples with what justice would look like for her. “Me just yelling out people’s names with no thought behind it is pointless. I need a plan,” she says. “I could be a voice, but what’s a voice going to do—just keep talking? Or is there action behind it?” Until she sorts that out, the armor is staying put. “I notice that men are afraid of women that are aggressive. So to protect myself I become semi-aggressive,” she says. “You hear about, ‘Tiffany always hitting on somebody,’ but that’s to keep them from hitting on me.” And in 2013 she divorced William Stewart amid allegations he physically abused her. (Stewart has denied the claims.) When I ask whether she’s actively dating, she demurs. “I don’t really have time. And I’ve had enough somebodies,” she says. “I done ran through 38 dudes, OK? Body count, yeah. Mine is 38. Write it down. Let them know. I’ve had 38 experiences.”
“If [The Rock] can make $65 million, I can make $65 million.”
For now, she’s keeping her sights set on building her empire. Recently Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson has been her inspiration. “I’ve been studying him a lot on YouTube and stuff. I’m like, If he can make $65 million, I can make $65 million too,” she says. “I want to get on that Forbes magazine, not for the money, but to be an example to other foster youths that it don’t matter how low from the bottom you are, you can always rise to the top if you believe in yourself.”
Gucci dress. Emporio Armani boots, $825.
In addition to serving as a role model for underprivileged youth (she’s considering fostering kids herself and often encourages fans to bring suitcases to her shows, which she donates to foster children), Haddish plans to continue supporting her family. “I’m just glad I got some money now, because now I can do a better job at taking care of them,” she says. “I got my mom out of the mental institution, like I said I would, in December, and I got her an apartment with my sister and a nurse that comes to her.” She also hopes to provide her siblings with financial security. “I ain’t never said this out loud, but I want to be able to give every one of my siblings a million dollars to create whatever they want to do,” she says. “That’s four million dollars that I don’t need.”
The check comes and Haddish drains her espresso. Brimming with caffeine, or perhaps her own brand of abracadabra, she flashes a winning smile. “I try my best not to be talking shit about nobody, because I want good things to stick to me,” she says. “Believing in myself is what got me to where I’m at. And when you do that, it comes right back.”
Niela Orr is a writer and editor based in Philadelphia.
Hair: Oscar James at Ken Barboza & Associates; makeup: Dionne Wynn at iTalent; manicure: Gina Edwards at Kate Ryan Inc.; set design: Bette Adams at MHS Artists; production: Hudson Hill Production. For Haddish’s look, try OGX Smoothing + Shea Sleek Smooth Style Spray ($9, drugstores) and Gucci Opulent Volume Mascara in Iconic Black ($33, gucci.com).
Everyone has their insecurities. That’s the truth we must cling to to get by, but when I was in high school, it didn’t feel like I was being insecure about my nose. It felt like the simple fact of the matter: I had a big nose with a bump at the top of the bridge, and I hated it more than anything. Nothing would convince me I wouldn’t benefit from a rhinoplasty, not my mom saying she liked my nose (“well, I don’t,” I would acidly shoot back), not my friends saying it was fine or I’d grow into it, not the tons of photos I took of my profile so I could analyze just how big and bumpy it really was. And then, at my first beauty internship, I was organizing products one day when I found it: Kevyn Aucoin’s Sculpting Powder, the only thing that’s kept me from taking the plunge all these years.
To understand the magnitude of how good this powder is, you have to understand how much I loathed my nose. It looked okay when I looked in the mirror and automatically widened my eyes and raised my eyebrows (everyone has their “mirror” face), but when I smiled in photos, my nose dipped and spread and kept me from seeing anything else. I’d get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I was tagged in photos, so I avoided them. I started second guessing which was the “truth,” what I looked like in the mirror, or what I looked like in photos. The latter seemed more real, and it began to feel like surgery was the only way out from this problem I was sure I had.
All through high school and college, I set my sights on wearing down my parents until they saw from my point of view. It didn’t matter that one of my only memories of my grandfather revolved around my nose—toddler me demonstrating my very unique talent for touching my tongue to my nose (that dip pays off in one way and one way only). It didn’t matter how anyone else felt about my nose, because I felt powerless. I just wanted to like my smile. It didn’t feel like a huge ask, to look happy without hating myself afterwards, without facing the disappointing truth of what I looked like to everyone else. Maybe it was greedy, but I wasn’t satisfied with just looking “cute,” which I thought of then as the B+ of beauty. I wanted powerful, leading lady beauty, the kind of face that no one could say no to (therapy has been helpful for untangling this toxic link).
But when I picked up the Kevyn Aucoin powder, a world of opportunities spread before me, much like my nose. Contouring was just taking off, so it wasn’t yet at the intimidating level where every palette came with a million shades and a color corrector. Instead, it was simple. I dipped an angled contour brush into the powder and sucked in my cheekbones, dusting the powder in the hollows created by my fish-face. After watching a few YouTube tutorials, I was ready for the big leagues. With the barest layer of powder on my brush, I dusted it on the underside of my nose. If you don’t know what you’re looking for, you’d never notice it. But to my over-sensitive eye, it’s transformative.
PHOTO: Rachel Nussbaum
Before on the left; after on the right.
Where my nose by itself may always strike me as owl-y, after shortening my nose with a visual trick I can feel my self-esteem level up. Granted, these days I’m getting better at accepting myself (again, thank you, therapy), but on the days I want to really feel myself, it’s always and forever my last step. I’ve tried other contour products, and most will work in a last-minute duck into Ulta or Sephora. But on my very fair skin, the Sculpting Powder weaves the perfect illusion of a shadow, and comes in shades both a notch lighter and darker.
But I’ve never been one to accept good when better could exist, so after a few years spent with the Sculpting Powder by my side, I still booked a free consultation with a plastic surgeon. When I described what I was looking for—my nose, without the downturn that comes from that smiling motion—he said it might be doable, but such a small change wouldn’t be worth getting the procedure. It wasn’t quite the answer I wanted, but for now, I’m happy with my on-the-go powder. With three years between us and barely a dent in the pan, I’m not paying $20,000 for a nose job anytime soon.
Kevyn Aucoin The Sculpting Contour Powder, $44, sephora.com
Months after Taylor Swift won her sexual assault trial, her convicted assaulter is being given a second chance at a career.
David Mueller, who was fired from his DJ job at a Denver radio station in 2013 after Taylor claimed he groped her during a concert meet-and-greet, has now been hired as a DJ at a Mississippi outlet. The Washington Post reports that the chief executive of the Greenwood-based radio station, Larry Fuss, fully believes David and not Taylor, which is primarily why he chose to hire him. (David was found guilty in his countersuit trial last August and was forced to pay a ceremonial $1 to Taylor as a result. He still denies any wrongdoing.)
“I sat down with him face-to-face in Minneapolis before I offered him the job and talked to him about it,” Fuss explained about his decision. “He’s either the world’s best liar, or he’s telling the truth. I tend to believe his version of the story and most people who have talked to him face-to-face do believe his version of the story.”
Unsurprisingly, Taylor’s fans have been rallying on Twitter to defend the artist and criticize Larry for hiring a convicted assaulter—in addition to David taking on the pseudonym of “Stonewall Jackson” for his newfound career. “To anyone who chose to ignore our reporting on how the country industry turns a blind eye to harassment and misconduct in country radio, here is more evidence. Shame on this station,” one user wrote. “Larry Fuss, #TimesUp. You might want to look into the hashtag,” another wrote. “Because I can tell you right now, the backlash you are receiving right now for your hiring decisions goes way beyond just Taylor Swift fans. This is about women, respect for women, and we will no longer be silent.”
“And yet another example of a man in power, a radio executive, who chooses to believe a man over a woman even after a jury of his peers found him guilty of sexual assault. Do not accept this offensive behavior, America. #timesup on sweeping sexual assault under the rug,” another added.
