Death by a Thousand Cuts
By: Meredith Newman
Tags: Corporate Culture, Diversity, Racism, Sexual Harassment, Restaurant

Death by a Thousand Cuts

I was hired as a sales representative for US Foods, internally referred to as a “Territory Manager” (TM) in December of 2019. My job would be not only to sell food, supplies, and equipment to restaurants and other foodservice establishments, but also to act as a consultative partner with the aim of helping their business or organization to be successful. Below is an account of experiences I had during my 18 month tenure, all of which contributed significantly to my departure.

I pursued this job rather aggressively after hearing a podcast interview with a woman who worked for US Foods as a “Restaurant Operations Consultant”- the sound of which excited me. Having spent close to 20 years (i.e. my entire working life) bouncing between jobs in the food industry and those in public service, this role seemed like a way I might finally be able to merge my affinity for working in food with my desire to support my community. After doing some initial research, mostly by way of conversations with those in the industry, I learned that the best way in would be to start as a sales rep; I’d then be able to grow from that position. I was thrilled when I was offered the role.

I soon embarked on the 11-week training program required to become a TM. The process was intensive — my time was split between coursework and ride-alongs with other sellers when I was in my home turf of Southern New England. For the other half of the 11 weeks, I was away from home, either in South Carolina or Illinois, with a group of 40-ish individuals from around the country, all also in training for sales roles at US Foods. While the process was demanding and time-consuming, I was brimming with enthusiasm and excitement. I had a new job! I was traveling! I was meeting so many fun (and I mean FUN) new people! I had my concerns about joining such a large corporation, which in many ways was antithetical to my personal values and beliefs; but our trainer constantly reminded us that this job was more than it seemed- that we had a real opportunity to help people. People who owned and operated restaurants. My favorite people. She told us we could “change lives”. I drank the Kool-Aid. I knew I was just selling food, but I believed that by being an honest, intelligent, and committed sales rep I really could make a difference in how someone might run their business, and therefore in their life.

During this same period, I attended my first General Sales Meeting, a gathering of about 100 people representing the leadership and sales staff of the Southern New England division. I walked quickly past the groups mingling in the lobby, feeling like the new kid at school, hoping I could remain unseen, and took a seat alone in the auditorium. A bit later, as the crowd filed into the large space, I remained quiet and observed. The details of that meeting escape my memory over a year later, but I do clearly recall one outstanding thought- that the overwhelming majority of the faces I saw were those of white cisgender men.

I told myself it was naïve to be startled by this observation. The two fields that this job combines — sales and restaurants — are notoriously male-dominated. But here I was taking a seat — that had to be a sign of some progress. I set my mind to be as successful as possible in my role and also take whatever opportunity I had going forward to push for a more inclusive workplace.

A few months later, May of 2020 arrived and with it the murder of George Floyd and the ensuing rise of the Black Lives Matter movement. Many companies and businesses around the country alleged that they were interested in addressing racism within their organizations and making genuine change. On June 19, one high-ranking member of the leadership team at my division (I will refer to him as “Bob”) sent out an email to the entire staff sharing a link to a video with a rudimentary explanation of systemic racism, stating that up until now this was, “a term I have heard, but to be honest, never put the time in to understand.” He invited anyone who was interested to, “sit down with me and talk to help educate me further about this…”. I wrote back, opting in to the conversation, and also stating that it was our responsibility, as those who have benefitted from white privilege, to educate ourselves and not to call on the Black people in our lives to do so for us. In response Bob replied, “Thanks for the feedback” and that he would set up a call.

The call took place about ten days later. A small handful of employees joined, including one HR rep. As a whole, I found the conversation to be extremely uncomfortable, unprofessional, and generally unproductive. One woman spent a significant amount of time weeping in response to others’ stories of oppression and suffering. At one point, while a white-presenting employee was expressing concern for the safety of his children, Bob interrupted to ask said employee if his kids, “looked Black”. Why Bob thought he was in any way qualified to lead a discussion on such an important and sensitive topic is beyond me. There was no substantive follow-up communication after our conversation and no reference to any action being taken within the organization to make change.

Over the course of the next several months, I repeatedly followed up with Bob regarding efforts being taken to combat racism and promote inclusivity within the division. He referred me to an HR representative who provided a short list of initiatives taken to increase diversity in the hiring pool, none of which had been fruitful to date. In terms of anti-racism work, there was only one inclusion. The Night Warehouse Manager would be facilitating optional 30 minute “Allyship & Anti-Racism Self-Reflection Sessions” for the Supply Chain team. Later, on a call with the same HR rep, I asked why this training was only being offered to one small area of the division. Her response indicated that she also found this curious, although she had not previously given it any thought, and she told me she would look into it. I never heard back on the subject.

As our hiring ramped up to fill spots on the sales team left vacant due to pandemic-related layoffs, I continually pressed management on recruiting practices, inquiring about what was being done to increase our diversity and extend opportunity to marginalized groups. I was told more than once that BIPOC just “weren’t applying” for the positions. When I suggested the idea of a consultant to instruct and lead on this matter I received the following reply from Bob, “I am not sure about outside consulting as I feel we have people working thru many resources and we just need time and we need to get thru Covid before we might see some progress.”

I received that email from Bob in January of 2021. I had now been on the road as a sales rep for almost a year. Due to the pandemic, our industry had been turned on its head. Restaurants were closing, the supply chain was in shambles, product shortages were unrelenting, and of course, everyone was at their limits in terms of personal stress and anxiety. Despite these variables, in a job that already comes with a very steep learning curve, I was achieving great success as a seller. I had built strong relationships, earning the trust of my customers and colleagues, and was on my way to mastering the systems and procedures that would allow me to be successful. My sales numbers were growing steadily. In September of 2020 I was one of two sellers (out of approximately 40) in the division to earn the top payout on an ecommerce promotion. In December of 2020 I received a large payout from a five-month-long promotion aimed at bringing on new business — this time I was one of ten and also the newest hire to do so.

This is all to say that by external measures, I was succeeding in my role and also receiving regular positive feedback from both my manager and my customers. I had, however, begun to feel like my outspokenness and proclivity for pointing out flaws and hypocrisies in our systems was not exactly appreciated by leadership and that in doing so I had been branded a “troublemaker”. Even with my “wins”, I was often passed over for praise and recognition on a larger level. Within the sales organization, there was an air of favoritism and a “boys’ club” mentality that became harder to ignore. I saw the same individuals lauded over and over again, even on occasions when they had been outperformed by other, less golden associates.

At the same time, I was also coming to terms with what had become fairly routine sexual harassment, both from customers and occasionally from colleagues as well. I regularly received comments from customers on my appearance, was often addressed via text message as “sexy” or “beautiful”, and more than once was asked out for dinner or drinks. There were also instances in which coworkers made comments on my appearance — sending me texts after seeing me online in group meetings or conferences. I learned to shrug off these intrusions. I was (clearly) in a male dominated field and this sort of behavior seemed to be the price of admission. When it came to my customers, to alienate them would be to risk losing sales, which would swiftly impact the metrics on which my job performance was judged (and on which I would be compensated). Similarly, I could not chance damaging the relationships I had with my colleagues. This is a job in which we are constantly encouraged to “team up” and, especially being new, I needed the support of my co-workers to be successful in my role. When it comes to working in sales, you are only as strong as your relationships.

This all came to a head on January 15, when I met up with a fellow rep (I will call him “Jim”) for coffee — what I took to be a casual encounter on a Friday afternoon. Jim and I first met shortly after I was hired at US Foods and spent time together during my training process. New sales reps are strongly encouraged to rely on more veteran sellers for support and guidance; without significant direction and help, it would be impossible to be effective. Jim and I got along well, despite establishing early on that we had very opposing political views. This was always addressed in a genial and jocular manner, and not a particularly frequent subject of conversation. As the months passed, while I continued to text with Jim somewhat regularly and still called on him for help when needed, his communication occasionally took an inappropriate turn. He sometimes made comments on my appearance. He once called me “sexy” via text, and also expressed his desire to have a meal with me. I brushed off these messages, figuring them to be harmless — he was 20 years my senior and also married. I saw no reason why we couldn’t still have a friendly, platonic relationship.

On the date in question, Jim and I had been texting during a virtual sales meeting. When he mentioned getting together, I cautioned him that I was extremely upset following the events of January 6 at the Capitol in D.C. I told him as much, using very passionate and even inflammatory language in the course of our discussion. I suggested we might wait to talk in person until I felt calmer. He was unbothered, said he would like to hear my views, and wanted to meet up anyway — I acquiesced. A short while later we met for coffee, and the conversation included both personal and work topics. He did make comments on my appearance. I told him about someone I had newly begun dating, who I was very excited about. I also made reference to the fact that he (Jim) was not someone I would be interested in sexually. The discussion eventually came around to politics and, as I had warned him, I did use the same inflammatory language I had via text and became very energetic. While we did not reach any sort of agreement, after some time the conversation came to a conclusion and ended on a friendly note — we even exchanged texts afterwards.

Early the next week, I received an impromptu same-day calendar invite for a call with HR, both with my local rep and another individual who I had never met. I was immediately flooded with anxiety, convinced that something was awry or that maybe I was being terminated. I entered the video call, nervous and on edge. The new-to-me rep got straight to business, inquiring about my conversation with Jim at the coffee shop, then proceeded to inform me that “someone” had filed a very serious complaint about my conduct. This individual had purportedly been upset and threatened by my behavior and had decided to call in to an anonymous HR hotline to report me. I was questioned in great depth about my meeting with Jim and was repeatedly chastised and condescended to in response to my alleged behavior. A day or two later, after the “investigation” had been conducted, I was brought into another call wherein I was told that I was going to be receiving a “final warning” on my record because I had violated the employee code of conduct by discussing politics with a colleague. I was also going to be referred to an Employee Assistance Program. In addition, I was informed that both my manager and the entire leadership of my division had been made aware of the details of this incident.

To say I was humiliated would be an understatement. Not only that, but I felt a deep sense of betrayal and also utter confusion. I had no understanding as to why someone I thought of as a friend would have behaved this way. If Jim was so upset by my words, why didn’t he just speak to me directly? I expressed as much in my continued calls with HR (in all there were five total, ranging from 30 to 90 minutes each). I took the opportunity to share with HR the inappropriateness of Jim’s past behavior, and my general impression that, as a woman, I found this to be a hostile work environment. I also expressed my dissatisfaction with the inclusivity of the organization as a whole. The response I received was shocking. Firstly, I was told by the HR rep that I was wrong and that US Foods was a very diverse organization. She even went so far as to argue with me about the number of female sellers in my division, which I found bizarre. I was then interrogated as to what other untoward behavior I had experienced from either customers or colleagues. I was told that it was my duty to report on the conduct of these men. Although it was blatantly obvious to me, there seemed to be no understanding whatsoever on the part of HR the destructive effect that sort of constant tattling would have on both on my quality of life and my job performance. I declined to disclose any of the other experiences I had had — knowing that any customer I mentioned would immediately be removed from my book of business. At the end of the ordeal, I was informed that Jim had been disciplined for sexual harassment regarding his past behavior towards me. It was unclear whether any members of the leadership team were made aware of this fact.

It’s fair to say that things went downhill from there. My primary fear, after recovering from the bruise to my pride, was that I was now not only going to be viewed as a “troublemaker”, but an unstable one at that, and that I would lose my credibility and sense of integrity in the eyes of leadership — i.e. those with the ability to help me move forward in my career. Over the course of the next few months, that is exactly what I experienced. It became very clear that I was not viewed favorably by the powers that be. More than once, when challenges or difficulties arose, I would be reassured by my manager or another member of my team that I had nothing to worry about, only to later be castigated by upper management. When a difficult and abusive customer I had been servicing requested a different sales rep, I received a threatening phone call from a member of the leadership team, who told me that starting with the incident with Jim, I had displayed a pattern of unprofessional behavior, and that the “final warning” I had received was still in effect.

My morale suffered and I began to feel like it was impossible to recover my reputation. No matter what successes I had, anything I did felt overshadowed by how I was seen by leadership. I continued to want to do well in my role, but I genuinely felt like my spirit had been broken. I no longer felt strong enough to take on all the hurdles I needed to to be a part of this company — push for inclusivity, fend off harassment, and complete the daily demands of working in sales. When one of my customers, who had previously sent me several cringe-inducing messages (once referring to me as “eye candy”) sent a text jokingly threatening to spank me as punishment for an error a delivery driver had made, I made a report. As expected, the relationship between the customer and myself was severed immediately (meaning I lost the sales) and I was told not to make any contact with him. While swift action was taken in that regard, no one else in our organization was made aware of the change, meaning that over the next several weeks it fell to me not only to continue to help manage the account but also to be the one to inform others that it was no longer under my purview. I was told someone from leadership called and spoke with the customer about his behavior — they never called me to address it.

Six weeks later, I gave my notice.

I’m including, below, a list of some of the additional events and conversations that took place during my 18 months as a TM. While they may seem innocuous, these everyday slights and hostilities add up to more than a sum of their parts — death by a thousand cuts, if you will. I’d also like to note that since I was hired, no progress has been made in my division in terms of increasing the diversity of our sales force on the basis of either race or gender. Despite this fact, I remain optimistic that US Foods, and other corporations, can become welcoming environments for all marginalized people. Workplaces where individuals of any and every race, gender, ethnicity, sexuality, and ability feel supported and are able to thrive. There is a lot of work to be done to get there, and change will only be effective if it begins with leadership; as the saying goes, “a fish rots from the head down.”

ETCETERA…

A colleague told me he would not be pursuing business at a lead for a successful Peruvian restaurant because the area where it was located was “too ghetto”.

An individual in a leadership role expressed to me how nice it was to go out for a day of golf with his superiors because it allowed for bonding and connection and you “got to see a new side of people”.

A colleague told me stories of getting drunk and going out to a strip club with other associates after a division-wide sales meeting.

An associate, whose support I needed to do my job effectively, took a liking to me and told me as much. He called me to chat regularly and often made reference to my appearance and also to “us” — as in pointing out reasons we wouldn’t work as a couple (nevermind the fact that he was married and I was not interested). I once woke up to a “you up?” text he had sent late at night — he later told me he had been intoxicated at the time. When I implied to him during a phone call that maybe I was not as fond of him as he was of me, we never spoke again.

An associate from upstate New York joined a virtual meeting with my team of approximately ten sellers. He remarked excitedly that it was nice to see such a “diverse” team. Our team was made up entirely of white people — by diversity he was referring to the three cis women present.

A member of the Executive Leadership Team (i.e. one of the highest ranking individuals at US Foods) paid a virtual visit to a division-wide sales meeting during which he made the following comment, “They told me I’m not supposed to use sports references because of gender or whatever…” and then proceeded to use a sports reference to make his point.

In February of 2021, US Foods held a highly anticipated and noteworthy company-wide virtual conference during which there were eight sessions spread out over the course of two days. Every single presenter at every single session was a white cis man.