A ‘Period Dignity Officer’ Seemed Like a Good Idea. Until a Man Was Named.
Dignity is a word of comfort for me. I know it only by its opposite.
“Dignity” has, for better or worse, become a catchall phrase for how we should conduct ourselves in the workplace. To me, it’s almost a synonym for “good” with the exception of a few key words. It means we should act and behave in ways that make us feel comfortable and happy—and that’s an entirely different discussion.
But the word “dignity” also tends to mean that we should behave in ways that don’t impact other people, in ways that are “right,” even when those behaviors are destructive or cruel.
And it certainly doesn’t mean that we should do things as if we were God—not the God who we want to believe in, anyway—or that we should make others feel comfortable, even when we personally don’t.
As a result, as an employer, I often find myself explaining away the behavior of some of my colleagues with “they’re just being ‘dignified.’” I hear it so often that I feel it’s earned its own special name: period dignity.
When I think of period dignity, I almost always think of a man’s name (I’m not one to judge, just like I’m not one to blame). When I think of someone called Dave, it’s usually because that person is on my side.
Dave was, in my opinion, a good, kind man. But when I think of how he behaved during his final years on earth, I have questions. And the answers change from person to person.
Dave was a young man when, for unknown reasons, he started talking a lot about the importance of self-control. He seemed to become very invested in the topic, spending a lot of time pondering his thoughts and behaviors.
As Dave’s interest in self-control started to take over his
