In support of my former Cards Against Humanity team members
I stand in support of all the former CAH employees who have bravely come forward to show their stories. As a former employee of CAH and Blackbox, I can speak to the toxic work environment that hurt so many people — myself included. No one was safe from personal and professional attacks, and it’s clear that marginalized team members — most notably Black employees and Black women — were purposely hurt the most. I want to amplify the story of Theresa and give more context into the treacherous web of power, influence, design, gaming, and community that allowed this to happen for so long. I also want to be clear that it is an effect of white supremacy and white privilege that I have not spoken up about this issue before, and am now doing so after safety has been created by those who I am now standing behind.
It’s hard for me to write this, because even though I was subjected to varying degrees of emotional abuse, I also benefited greatly from the CAH’s reputation and resources. At the time I did not understand or recognize the many ways in which this white supremacy benefited me: the speaking engagements I landed after I was hired, because I was “cool” now; the press opportunities I received because my work was “visible.” (Think about that self-serving loop for a moment.); the awards and status in the “design community.” I made a name for myself in design through my association with CAH. That makes me complicit in the harm done to my former teammates. I am sorry for all the times I didn’t speak up out of fear. I am sorry for all the times I didn’t see a problem due to the blinders of my whiteness and privilege. I am sorry for when I saw sexism but not racism. I am sorry that I hitched myself to a rising star that was built on the tears and trauma of other women and BIPOC. I want to publicly acknowledge my failures and not burden my former team members with the emotional labor of forgiving me for being complicit in their harm. I hope that my public acknowledgement of failure helps other white people not only realize that complacency is violence, but to visibly seek action to stop further violence.
I am not going to detail my personal stories in an attempt to keep the focus on the experiences of the marginalized employees who were viciously mistreated. I can speak to other stories that not only hurt people and caused hostile work environments, but also in one instance clearly put the wellbeing of another woman at risk. What I can say is that it was a culture of fear. Max played favorites with employees, and mistreated those who dared to speak against him. (That includes doing wild things like… sharing your professional opinion on the work you’re doing!) This caused rifts between employees for fear of retaliation.
I was made to feel powerless and unworthy through constant digging remarks and attempts to undermine my work. I suffered from anxiety and depression during my time there, and recall numerous times that I was crying and having panic attacks in a private cubby in the office. I remember so many times when I had to comfort other female team members who suffered similar attacks. That all happened in private, behind closed doors in the hip, open office. In public, there were trips to Disney World and Apple Watches and risograph equipment and parties and all you can drink kombucha. I couldn’t reconcile the emotional toll it was taking on me with the outward shows of appreciation. In retrospect, the situation was an abusive relationship. I was terrified to leave. When you benefit so directly from the power and influence of one person, you don’t just fear losing it — you fear it being used against you.
The power and influence of CAH is undeniable. It’s what lured so many of us in, from wide-eyed designers, to college interns, to non-profit directors like Anita. The edginess, the reputation, the laughs, the “liberal activism”, the status, the coolness aura, the key to the podcasting studio, the panels at C2E2, the connections. We wanted to benefit from the power of the “beloved” cultural institution that was more than a board game. But power corrupts. And selling dick jokes to benefit the non-profit of the week doesn’t erase the harm that CAH has caused to its own employees.
During my time at CAH, I met and worked with some of the most fantastic people I will ever meet in my life. I worked with those talented people on projects that we put into the world to bring people together, use our platform and voice for good, and raise money for causes we believed in. I stand behind that work, but I don’t stand behind how employees were treated. Most importantly, I don’t stand behind how I was complicit in that through my role as a white, cis, middle manager. It’s painful for me to relive this trauma, but my personal pain will be fuel to ensure I am never complicit in harming others again. To my past team members, and especially BIPOC — I stand with you.
