Editor’s note: Chelsey Glasson is a researcher and writer who spent the past two decades working in the public policy and tech sectors. This is an excerpt from her upcoming book Black Box: A Pregnancy Discrimination Memoir. Excerpted with permission of the publisher, Lioncrest Publishing.
“While trauma keeps us dumbfounded, the path out of it is paved with words, carefully assembled, piece by piece, until the whole story can be revealed.”
— The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk
“Trust me, Chelsey. You don’t want to file a lawsuit against a company like Google. You have a house, a husband, a job…They will crush you.”
These words were not spoken by a well-meaning relative but by an attorney I consulted after I decided to hold my employer, Google, accountable for years of blatant pregnancy and maternity discrimination. By the time I left the company in August of 2019, my mental and physical health had drastically declined, and once again, the barriers to filing a lawsuit were put in place when I met with a psychiatrist who also advised me not to file a lawsuit.
His words were, “Move on with your life.”
Attorneys and psychiatrists are supposed to be neutral. Still, there are deeply ingrained stigmas in our society against pregnancy and maternity, and even these professionals are not immune to the bias. I did as the attorney suggested and took what she called “the EEOC route.” I realize now that I should have consulted other attorneys, but at the time, her words frightened me. After all, she was a lawyer; I assumed she knew what was best.
We filed a complaint with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, the federal agency that fights workplace discrimination in the United States. What followed was a confusing, ambiguous, and time-consuming ordeal; the EEOC claims you don’t need a lawyer to navigate their claims filing process, but trust me, in most circumstances, you do.
After nearly a year, it became clear that the EEOC was understaffed, underfunded, and ineffectual, and filing a complaint with them wasn’t enough. I knew I would only attain justice and feel whole again through proper accountability, so I embarked on the arduous path of a lawsuit against one of the biggest tech companies on Earth.
Throughout the events which would then unfold, I never stopped doubting myself. Did I make the right decision? Am I being strong enough? At the same time, I was getting a tremendous amount of pushback from Google, the company that I had loved and trusted for years. The company that I had decided right out of graduate school would be the pinnacle of achievement for me, and the company that, after they hired me, I held up as proof to myself and all the world that I had finally made it.
I didn’t recognize the signs of, much less begin to question, workplace misconduct for many years into my career. Once I embarked on the path of holding Google accountable, a path that was a complete black box at the start, I had no idea how long the journey would take or how much of a saga it would turn out to be.
While The Pregnant Workers Fairness Act, which was signed into law in December of 2022, is a huge accomplishment and a significant step forward, I know now that laws aren’t enough to stop employers from discriminating against pregnant women. This is because of the near impossibility of winning a workplace discrimination lawsuit, for reasons including the massive legal budgets of companies like Google, the inadequate infrastructure of the EEOC, and the lack of plaintiff attorneys willing to take cases on contingency.
During my battle, I also learned that another hardship comes from the stigmas against filing a lawsuit — you’re considered an instigator, a lover of drama and chaos. The subtle and not-so-subtle judgments from coworkers, friends, and others are constant and painful.
After I started going public with my situation, first through a company-wide memo and later through the publication of multiple articles sharing my story, a surprising amount of women reached out to me. Although many of them were asking me for help with their pregnancy discrimination situations, it helped me immensely to know I was part of a larger group of people whose stories all shared many commonalities. If this book can in some way give back to that community of women, it will make writing it a worthwhile endeavor.
If you feel that you are the only one who has experienced the pain, shame, and confusion — the trauma — of pregnancy discrimination, know you’re not alone. Over the past few years, I have engaged in conversations with over sixty women of various socio-economic backgrounds, ethnicities and ages who experienced pregnancy discrimination. These conversations have taken place through in-depth video calls, email exchanges, and social media messaging, and I’ve captured some of their thoughts, feelings and experiences in short excerpts at the end of each chapter. To protect the privacy of these women and some of the other people referenced in this book, I have changed their names. Their stories, it is my hope, will help you realize how many others have gone through this too.
The obstacles to standing up to pregnancy discrimination, or any workplace misconduct for that matter, can feel insurmountable. But it is important to know that you are not completely powerless. You can stand up to it. This is not to say that the feelings of powerlessness are not real; they are. The policies and systems currently in place prevent the majority of discrimination cases from ever making it to a courtroom. This needs to change so that all women, not just those with opportunities and advantages, can fight back.
My role at Google, and in the workforce in general thus far, has been as a researcher. This includes jobs at several Big Tech companies, such as Google, Meta, and Salesforce. I repeatedly earned ratings of “Superb” and “Exceeds Expectations” during my five and a half years at Google and was often commended for my high level of performance — until I started to question the discriminatory practices I witnessed.
I may be a researcher by profession, but you will find that this book is not research-heavy. It is primarily my story, with others’ voices chiming in, and secondarily, it is a call for change. I am not a lawyer, nor am I a psychiatrist or a politician. I can’t offer any complete solutions, but if this book can somehow spark additional opportunities for women to combat pregnancy discrimination, that will be enough.
Fighting pregnancy discrimination can involve both pregnancy and becoming a plaintiff, and that twofold challenge is at the heart of why I wrote this book. If you have faced or may someday face this situation, I hope that by following my journey through pregnancy discrimination, retaliation, and ultimately a court settlement in my favor, you will learn lessons and strategies to pursue justice yourself and feel empowered and informed enough to navigate this painful and costly process through to the end. The process I describe in these pages is specific to the United States — our laws, institutions, and systems — however, I believe the many things I’ve learned apply across the globe. Wherever you are, I hope my story results in your path being less of a black box.
I recognize my own privilege in being able to speak out — and that’s one of the reasons that it’s vital that I do. As a high-earning, American-born white woman in a dual-income marriage, I enjoy protections that many others facing discrimination do not have. I can also speak out safely because of the Silenced No More legislation that was passed in Washington state in 2022. Choosing to go public did not mean risking my career, a roof over my head, or my work visa. I know that for every woman who files a lawsuit at the state or federal level, there are thousands more suffering in silence. Even for women who have the security and the resources to do so, fighting pregnancy discrimination — or any type of workplace discrimination, for that matter — is a monumental, all-consuming effort.
I acknowledge and honor all the victims of pregnancy discrimination who are unable or unwilling to take a public stance because of these very real risks, and I hope this book speaks to them and for them as well.
Big Tech was my north star when I entered the workforce as a User Experience Researcher after attaining a Master’s Degree in Human Centered Design and Engineering. I was elated on the day I got the call to come and work at the Google Mountain View campus, and I was flying high when I received my badge and Noogler hat, officially becoming a “Googler.” But unfortunately, my sense of stability and self-esteem was so negatively impacted by a series of traumatic events in my childhood that my ambition to achieve success in the tech world stemmed from a hollow place and was deeply rooted in my own lack of true self-worth.
Excerpted from the upcoming book Black Box: A Pregnancy Discrimination Memoir. Copyright © 2023 by Chelsey Glasson. With permission of the publisher, Lioncrest Publishing. All rights reserved.
