You can’t treat people like crap!

“We are not a holding company. We are people.”

“We care about you. Really.”

“We are about opportunity. Opportunity to create, to grow and to have an impact. We want all of our people to be as successful as they can be to reach their full potential.”

These are all statements taken directly from the Deckers Brands website.  Sounds great! Right?  Not so much.  Recently, I had a very short-lived career with Deckers.  In fact, it lasted all of 9 days and 4 hours. That is definitely a record for me as the quickest exit from a job I have ever had.  (I lasted longer gutting fish at a fish market in high school.) It’s a very long way from my 15 years with David’s Bridal. So what happened?  I wish I knew.

Somewhere between the last in-person interviews that resulted in a unanimous vote of “we love you” and the same day offer, and ten days later when I showed up for my first day of work, something changed.  I don’t really know what happened because all they would tell me was that I wasn’t a “good fit”.

I wrote two letters to the corporate office about my experience – not because I thought it would change anything, or because I wanted to get my job back, but because it is wrong to treat people in the manner I was treated. And somebody should know.

Since then, I have not had a single response from my emails. I didn’t really think I would, but one can hope. I have moved on – doing contract work with a great non-profit organization.  I have support from my family and friends. I am greeted with I’m sorry’s that are laced with smiles because they are happy to have me back.  I’m okay.

But I want you to know what happened.  Why? Becuase leaders need to know that you can’t treat people like crap. We are currently experiencing an upside-down, backwards-facing, pond-scummy, whatever-I-want, idiotic political race, where our potential leaders seem to think it is acceptable to treat human beings without dignity. Well, I say it’s not.  We are better than this – even if those who have influence over the direction of our lives disagree.

This is the letter I sent to the Chief HR Officer

Graciela Montgomery, Chief Human Resources Officer
Deckers Brands

Saturday, October 1, 2016

Good Day Ms. Montgomery,

I am forwarding to you a letter I sent to Andrea Jackson with regards to my termination.  I feel that it is important for you to understand the manner in which your leaders have been handling the staffing in the new Denver call center.  You may look at this as simply sour apples, but in my long experience in working in customer service, I have never seen – or moreover, been treated – in the manner that Heather Bissell, Call Center Director, Kim Heidt, VP Customer Experience, and to a lesser extent Andrea Jackson, SR Manager Human Resources, handled my very short-term employment with Deckers Brands.

I interviewed with a number of your home office associates over a fairly long period.  My application was accepted on July 19 and I received my first request for an interview on July 26.  The process was very drawn out, and I continued to interview with other companies, however as the interviewing went on and I spent more time researching and learning about the company, I became increasingly excited about the opportunity I saw in front of me.  After each interview, I was assured that the interviewer had been very impressed with me and was excited about the possibilities we had discussed.

My first interview with Heather Bissell was very short and although she was pleasant enough, she seemed disinterested in my background or qualifications – very quickly ending our call.  I chalked this up to her being new in the position and let it slide.  The interview with Lucy Gros renewed my excitement about the prospects of working to build a new and customer focused training program from the ground up, something I had successfully done at David’s Bridal.  When offered the three interviews at the call center location I felt very good about my prospects and began to turn down other offers.  I felt that at this time in my life I wanted to align myself with a quality company – not just accept any job that would pay my bills.  I had spent 15 years with my last employer and was looking for the next place to lay down roots. On September 8, the offer for the position as the Call Center Training Manager came on the same day as those interviews. I was told it was unanimous and that everyone was eager to have me start as soon as I could.  I accepted, completed the required paperwork, and eagerly awaited my start date on September 19th of what I thought was to be an exciting career.  What happened was as far from the set expectations as it could have been.

Your website speaks of the “importance of people”, “ethical corporate behavior”, “being valued as a human being”, “about an opportunity to create, to grow, and to have an impact.”

The company Code of Ethics states, “Our good name and reputation depend on the actions of each and every one of us. Our individual actions must be guided by trust, accountability, honesty, fairness, respect and integrity each and every day.”

I no longer believe that your leaders live by this creed.  I was treated so poorly on my first day that I can only think something had occurred between my being offered the position and when I arrived. I know that I am an eager and high energy type of individual.  I can be odd, quirky, and overly exuberant at times. But these were some of the traits that the interviewers mentioned they liked in me.  On Thursday of my first week, I had a discussion with Heather regarding the need tone down my excitement.  Fair enough.  I did.  I focused on being a part of the new hire training class – learning the systems needed to respond to consumer calls.

She also questioned if I thought this position was a “good fit”.  An inquiry I found confusing as it was only day four and I had not even seen a job description or had a planning meeting about the expectations of the position or even knew what was to be my first project.  At the time, I had been told to simply behave as a new hire participating in the new hire agent training process.

During the nesting period, between customer calls,  I spent time revising my notes, confirming understanding through the help center, and beginning to write a new opening to the training class.  Heather was out of the business on vacation, and I had no indication from anyone else that I was behaving in a manner in any way unacceptable. 

That is until Thursday.  I received a request from Andrea Jackson to have an immediate call together.  This was my first indication that anyone had been concerned about my behavior and frankly I was confused as to what could have been the problem.  She brought to my attention that a report was made that I was “unengaged in my own learning, preferring to spend my time playing solitaire.”  I was flabbergasted as this was a far from the truth as it could have possibly been.  Yes, I spent some time at the beginning and before the end of my break or lunch, engaged in a computer game.  I learned a technique to transition out of one state of mind (such as a break) and into another (such as learning mode) when I was a special education teacher in the early 90’s.  It is one I teach and use to help focus quickly on the next task at hand.  A simple game of solitaire, a few minutes of a puzzle, or a quick drawing are a proven way to help an individual leave behind the previous activity and focus on the next. (In fact, this is the basis of the latest adult craze for coloring books.)

I have 56 pages of handwritten notes, accessed at least 30 to 40 of the Zen Desk help center tutorials, began a One-Note notebook of 5 sections to organize the material I was absorbing and created an outline to present as a better way to help new hires readjust their paradigms regarding a customer-centric call center.  And all this while I made every customer I spoke to happy with the results of their calls.

Then on Friday, I was let go.  Kim Heidt would only state that I was “not a good fit.”  That she had to spend part of every day talking about me with Heather (while on vacation), that she had never had to have two conversations with any new manager in their first two weeks before. She was insistent that her time with Deckers has helped her know who will work out and who won’t.  She would not answer my questions about what I had done to cause this impression.  She was dismissive, rude, and unwilling to explain other than to say I was simply not going to “work out.”

Please tell me how any of this is in keeping with your company standards?  I changed my life in many ways to accept this position.  I began to build hopes, plans and saw a future that was better than my husband and I have had – all based on the promises made in the interview and hiring process.

I believed in what was told to me.  I made plans. I spent hours preparing to move out of the training class and into my actual position.  And now, quite frankly, I am devastated. I will be fine. I will find a position that will actually value my skills and abilities, will celebrate what I can bring to their company – quirky traits and all – but I am still devastated. For three weeks I have imagined the possibilities of this position, began planning and creating something new – and your seemingly unethical, unbelieving, dishonest, unfair, and disrespectful leaders would not even tell me why I was not a “good fit.”

In at “at will” employment state, I probably have no grounds for a wrongful dismissal suit.  I will look into this, but I am sure this will not worry you. I have not met you and do not know if your leaders are representative of your beliefs as well.  I sincerely hope not. I hope that somewhere in your organization are individuals that actually believe in the creed you express on your website.


Angela R. Nevin


When life gives you lemons….pucker up.

So it’s been awhile since I’ve been here.  (It seems I have a firm grasp on the obvious – that’s a good sign.) However, it’s the why it’s been awhile that needs some explaining. You see – life threw lemons at us.  And while it is an old, hackneyed, tired expression to say you should make lemonade – I’m going to say it.   Nothing is ever just handed to you – it’s up to you to make that happen.  So we found the sugar, added the water, and created a new lemonade recipe.

Nevin’s Loving Life-Let’s move on-Lemonade:

Lemon ingredients:

  • 2 lost jobs
  • 1 broken furnace
  • 1 roof leak
  • 0 money
  • 2 broken pipes
  • 9 wicked cold snow storms
  • 4 water damaged floors
  • 3 exposed rafters where the ceilings collapsed
  • 1 flooded basement (contains drums, buckets, cases, boxes, electronics, and other items that can be used to hold water)
  • 1 deed-in-lieu to the mortgage company

Sugar ingredients:

  • 2 parents that stand by you even though you are over the age of 45
  • 1 couple/best friends who never give up on you
  • 2 landlords willing to take a chance
  • 1 move: home to Colorado
  • 4 – 6 kids to help load the moving truck
  • 5 golden rings – I wish
  • 1 new puppy
  • 2 new jobs
  • 3 great friends to help unload the moving van
  • Unlimited amazing adventures
  • 2 people returning to their roots
  • 0 regrets

Throw in a few things just for extra flavor:

  • 56 hours of driving time PA to CO
  • 1 funeral combined with a house being moved down the street plus our moving van blocking the road
  • 1 minor car accident straight out of a Coen brothers movie
  • 1 midnight on New Year’s Eve crossing the Pennsylvania border
  • 2 missed flights back to PA
  • 1 weather exchange of 33°F and sleeting in PA for 60°F and sunny in CO – on the same day
  • Substitute 1 new and better job for the Colorado job
  • 1 missed left turn at Albuquerque (watch some Bugs Bunny if this comment doesn’t make sense)
  • 2 weeks without my anxiety meds (just to add some agitation to the final product)



Mix with excessive amounts of wonderful water from the Colorado sky.

Shake vigorously with all the friends that have loved, helped, carried, laughed, cried, and just sat with us when we needed.


Yield: Unlimited servings

Why do people cringe when I say I have a cunning plan?

I think I have finally arrived at the point in my life where I understand and accept that I am not a normal person. (I know this must come as a surprise to many of you.) I see the world the same way everyone else does, but somehow it’s translated differently in my brain. Information enters in the normal way, but then it’s twisted into a pretzel, braided into rope, tied into knots, cut apart, reattached, and then smoothed out with an iron. In doing so it becomes something entirely different. This is where my life diverges from the norm. This is also the moment when my cunning plan frequently becomes a harebrained scheme.

You might ask what the difference is between the two? Very simply, it’s the outcome. A cunning plan is eventually successful. A harebrained scheme often ends with expensive mistakes, band aids, multiple trips to the hardware, grocery, art, or computer store, and/or an eventual visit to the emergency room. I think a key to understanding the difference between the two also requires understanding how I came to see the world in this unique way.

For my view of the world, I thank my dad. He also sees things with different eyes. (We may be the only father/daughter team to have both fallen off a house roof. Not together, you understand, but years apart. (I’ll save that story for another time.) Dad has taught me how to look at something and really see the parts and not just the whole. It’s sort of the difference between seeing the forest or the trees. I see a problem and identify the issue instead of simply trying to find a solution. For example, if the problem is the can opener doesn’t work, the solution may be to get a new one. In my eyes, the can opener doesn’t work because the gears have rusted over time and use. My solution involved taking the can opener apart, cleaning the rust, sharpening the blades, oiling each part, and putting it back together. This outcome would qualify as a cunning plan. However, my outcome ended with doing each step again, and again, and a couples of steps a third time. It also involved cutting my finger with the knife I was using to scrape off the rust, slipping while sharpening the blade and putting a gash in my palm, losing the gasket that sits between the gears, needing to run to the hardware store for a new one, putting a butterfly bandage on the cut finger, using superglue to close the gash in my palm, and wiping up the oil I spilled (only after I slipped and found myself sitting on the floor). This categorizes it as a harebrained scheme. (In all fairness though, the can opener works great again.)

I live for the next cunning plan. I walk through stores looking at items and thinking about other ways they might be used. My coworkers think I have a doctorate in using ordinary items in unusual ways. Recently a cunning plan included oversized light bulbs from work, wire, semi-aquatic plants, expanding soil, lots of water, a grabber sort of thingy, a turkey baster, and ladybug shaped buttons from a kid’s outfit. Put it all together and you have a hanging terrarium! Voila! A successful cunning plan.

As I sit here thinking, I am struggling to remember my last harebrained scheme. Is it possible I have blocked it from my mind? I have an ace bandage wrapped around my left wrist that attests to the fact that something went wrong lately. I believe that involved new roller blades, three beers, 11:30 at night and our pit bull looking down at me from the chair as I landed on the floor. (His tail thumping rapidly showed he thought it was a great cunning plan.) At any rate, I am fortunate to have a partner who is willing to put up with my harebrained schemes, put a stop to the more dangerous ones, and drive me to the hospital when I can’t do it myself.

Side note: Mike has learned the difference between a bad cut and a really bad cut. When her hears damn, ouch, shit, or other creative curse words – he knows to ignore me. When he hears hhhhhhu (sound of a quick inhalation of breath), he comes running. It’s a fine distinction, but an important one none the less.

Henry Ford once said, “Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again – this time more intelligently.” I think I would like that on my tombstone. It’s better than, “She died a stupid death. If only she had used the ladder and not the set of stacked chairs.” Ah well, on to the next cunning plan.