It's been quite a while since I've
written in my blog. It's not that interesting things haven't been
going on; it's just that I've been so busy with my new job that I
simply haven't had the time.
The Interview
Speaking of new jobs, I recently blogged about my concerns
regarding disclosing my disability during the interview process. It
turns out that, in this case, Glindy's presence never became a
significant issue.
When I flew up to Boise for my interview, I showed up on Friday
with Glindy in tow. Even though her presence had been
unanticipated, the reception we received was pretty positive. I
introduced Glindy as my "business partner," and joked about how she
did all of the hard work while I just tagged along for moral
support. That seemed to bring a smile to everyone's face; one
should never underestimate the power of a well-timed joke to
lubricate potentially awkward social situations.
One minor blip was when one of the executives tried to insist on
details about my disability. When I politely declined to discuss
it, he insisted that they needed to know "in case anything happened
to me on the job." I assured him that if I thought the nature of my
disability was job-related, I'd share with them, but that it was
genuinely immaterial. He let it drop, and that was the end of
it.
I'm not sure my original concerns were unwarranted, but I'm now
positive that I made the right choice in handling things the way I
did regarding the interview. As for the job itself, that went even
better.
The Job
Because the job itself is with the federal government, I was
confident that I was on firm ground showing up with a service
animal. After all, Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act ensures
that government agencies can't discriminate against qualified
individuals with disabilities, and doesn't arbitrarily limit its
scope to "employees" in the same way as Title I of the Americans
with Disabilities Act.
Again, despite surprising them with the dog, the executives and
staff at the new job all reacted positively. A few people
complimented me on my dog's looks and how well-behaved she is, but
none of them made an issue of her presence. In fact, several of
them went out of their way to try to make the two of us feel
comfortable.
The Guards
I had the usual hassles with guards at the job site, of course,
since apparently the Department of Homeland Security doesn't
provide enough awareness training to its jackbooted foot-soldiers
regarding disability access rights. Typical exchanges, some of
which made me doubt their sanity, went like this:
Guard: Is that a dog with you?
Me: (thinking, "What does she look like, an alligator?") Yes. She's
a service dog.
Guard: You can't bring pets in here.
Me: She's a service animal. She can go anywhere I can go.
Guard: So, she's a guide dog?
Me: No, she's a service dog.
Guard: (looking at me looking back at her) Are you blind?
Me: No. Do I look like I'm blind?
Guard: So, what's your disability?
Me: Look here. Once I tell you that a dog that is clearly marked as
a service animal is a service animal, that's pretty much
the end of the conversation. If you need additional training on
this issue, speak with your supervisor; if you just want to argue
the matter, do it on your own time.
I had a number of such conversations before they got tired of the
sharp end of my tongue, and have left me alone since then. Since
none of the challenges ever amounted to more than a bit of
time-wasting, and none of the guards ever tried to actually prevent
me from going where I needed to go, I didn't really pursue the
matter.
The Hotel
The manager of the Marriott hotel where I'm staying, whom we'll
call "Jeff" (because that's actually his name), was a bit of a
different story. Jeff provided me with a wonderful anecdote that
illustrates why one should be very careful about disclosing the
presence of a service dog ahead of time.
Since I was going to be staying at this hotel for several months, I
called ahead to negotiate a long-term stay rate. I did *not* get an
exceptional rate from this man, and might have actually been better
off getting the standard government rate and negotiating a room
upgrade later once I was on-site. Nevertheless, we agreed on a rate
and a way to waive some weekend charges, which is important to this
story.
When I showed up, the young lady at the registration desk told me
pets weren't allowed. I assured her that Glindy was a service dog,
and she told me she'd have to inform the manager. "Go right ahead,"
I told her, "so long as you give me my room first." I had no
intention of cooling my heels while they sorted things out
internally.
A few days later, I was talking to the manager about the fact that
none of my weekend charges had been waived. He got angry, and said
that since we were on the subject of unmet expectations, he "felt
betrayed" that I hadn't warned him that I was traveling with a
service dog. When I pointed out that I wasn't obligated to do so,
he said "And I'm not obligated to give you any discounts,
either!"
I told him that the presence of a service dog was totally
irrelevant, at which point he started ranting about how much effort
it was to clean a room after a dog was in it, and did I have any
idea of how much work this was for him personally? Mind you, he
wasn't talking about damages, just about following whatever
sanitizing policy his hotel had. Because of his negative attitude,
I pointed out that this simply wasn't my problem. I've stayed with
my service dog at Marriott-branded hotels all across the country;
it had never been an issue before, so this was clearly his personal
issue.
When I said that routine turnover wasn't my problem, the guy went
apoplectic. He actually said, and I quote it here for the record:
If I'd known you had a service dog with you, I would
never have given you a discounted rate!
Unbelievable, I know. What he was essentially saying is that he was
angry that I hadn't given him a chance to discriminate against me,
and that he would have charged me a totally different rate if he'd
known I had a service animal. Since I didn't give him a chance to
discriminate, he felt "betrayed." Hmmmm.
After this incident, I had to think about what sort of action to
take. The bottom line is that this guy was clearly prejudiced, and
was even willing to verbally admit that he would discriminate given
the chance. But while he was behaving in a remarkably rude and
clueless fashion, he hadn't
actually discriminated in a
concrete way. The fact that he claims he would have, given the
opportunity, isn't quite the same as having done so.
Mind you, that's a pretty fine distinction. I'm not at all happy
about this guy's attitude, but I'm not sure it's worth pursuing,
especially since I'm still staying in the hotel at the agreed-upon
rate.
The Moral
So, there are definitely times when I think it's worth it to notify
people ahead of time: when calling for a cab or when making plane
reservations, for example. But overall, I think it's better to
ignore the issue in the same way I expect people to ignore my dog's
presence when she's working.
If you stop and think about it, that strategy has worked
flawlessly: my interview went well, I got the job, and I held the
hotel to its agreements. Non-disclosure certainly seems to be an
effective strategy for me most of the time, and I will be sticking
with it for the foreseeable future.