How Do You Manage? Case Study: Killer Diller
By Michael Rogers -- Library Journal, 11/1/2007
“Can you believe the nerve?” librarian Elsie Caliendo asked Lorraine Rosen, who sat staring in equal disbelief at the email sent to select members of the staff of Frazer University Library.
“Killer Diller strikes again,” Rosen said.
“Killer” Diller was Arlene Diller, a fellow librarian who had a propensity for sending nasty emails to other staff members, excluding managers.
“I've had it, Lo. I mean it. Where the hell does she get off?”
“Print it out and put it in the file,” Rosen said. Caliendo printed the vitriolic message and added it to several dozen others in a file folder. She had begun printing the messages weeks after they started coming, and the 40 or so in the folder didn't represent the entire run. Today's poisonous epistle regarded lunch hours; Diller felt it inappropriate for more than one person from each area to be gone at the same time and suggested certain people altering their schedules.
“Who does she think wants to go to lunch at 11:30?” said Caliendo. “The building doesn't even open until 10.”
“And who'd want to wait until 4 to have lunch?” added Rosen. “It's ridiculous anyway, since there's always someone covering all posts. It's not like there's no one here. Notice that she doesn't offer to alter her schedule.”
The next day, a message arrived in staff in-boxes bearing the subject line “Sloppy Dressing.” The text read: “Why do some of you have to dress so badly? I know there's a relaxed dress code around here, but some of you honestly look shabbier than the students. Peasant dresses and Birkenstocks? The Sixties are over, folks. And leather skirts. Is the ho look in vogue? Let's try to dress a little bit more professional, guys, OK?”
“That's great coming from her,” Rosen fumed, “considering she's been wearing the same Salvation Army cast-off suits for the last ten years.”
“And her hair; it's a rat's nest.”
“I hate to be a snitch, but I don't know how many more of these I can take before blowing the whistle and going to Sandy,” Rosen said.
“Let me know; I'll go with you. Someone has got to call Diller on these.”
A few days later, the dam broke.
“That's it, I've had it,” Rosen said. “Shall we go?”
“We shall,” Caliendo said.
File in hand, the two women tracked down Sandy Snyder, their and Diller's manager.
“What's up, ladies?” Snyder smiled.
“We need a private moment, Sandy.”
“OK, let's duck in here,” Snyder said, leading the librarians into a small private study room and closing the doors. “What can I do for you?”
“We hate to rat anyone out,” Rosen said, “but for the last year or more, Arlene has been sending very hostile emails to a bunch of people on the staff.”
“What about?” Snyder asked.
“Basically, everything. She's complained about people taking too many bathroom breaks, what they wear, what time they go to lunch, their choice of perfume, how they do their jobs, when they take vacation, you name it. Everyone is tired of it. She's like an email terrorist. Here, look at these,” Caliendo said, handing Snyder the file of printouts.
“Of course she doesn't include you or any of the other higher-ups because she knows it's really none of her business, and she doesn't have the authority to tell anyone to do anything,” said Rosen.
“We have been encouraging staff to bring up workflow issues,” Snyder said.
“Some of these might be construed as workflow issues, but many of them are personal,” Caliendo said.
“I'll go through these messages and determine whether they are hostile or not,” said Snyder. “Maybe some people are just overly sensitive. That's all I can do for now.”
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