I’ve been a manager for almost six years, and I always thought I was fair. Strict, maybe, but fair. Rules are rules, and if I make exceptions for one person, then where does it stop? That’s what I told myself when I fired Celia last week.
She was late again—third time this month. Our policy is clear: three strikes, you’re out. She barely said a word when I called her into my office. Just nodded, grabbed her bag, and left without arguing. That should’ve been the first sign something was off.
Later that afternoon, I overheard two coworkers whispering. “Did you hear about Celia’s son?” one asked. “Yeah,” the other sighed. “Poor kid. She’s been sleeping in her car with him.”
My stomach dropped.
I pulled one of them aside. “What do you mean ‘sleeping in her car’?”
Turns out, Celia had been evicted a month ago. Her ex disappeared, no child support, no family around. She’d been working double shifts when she could, but most shelters were full, so she and her six-year-old had been living in her car. She was late those mornings because she had to drive across town to a church that let them shower before she dropped him off at school.
I felt sick.
I went home that night and couldn’t stop thinking about it. She wasn’t late because she was irresponsible. She was late because she was trying to survive. And I had just made her situation worse.
The next morning, I called her. She didn’t pick up. I texted. Nothing.
So I found the last address we had on file and drove there. It was a run-down apartment complex, but the manager told me she’d been evicted weeks ago.
Now I’m sitting in my car, searching online for any way to reach her. I don’t even know if she still has her phone.
I have a job for her if she wants it. More than that—I want to help.
But what if I’m too late?
I’ve been a manager for six years, always believing I was fair. So, when Celia was late for the third time, I followed the rule and fired her. But later, I learned she had been evicted and was living in her car with her son. She was late because she had to drive them to a church for showers before school.
I felt awful. I tried reaching her but couldn’t. Eventually, I found out she had been at a church, and after searching, I found her in her car. I apologized and offered her a job, but more importantly, I promised to help her get back on her feet.
I helped her secure an apartment, connected her with resources, and got her a small pay raise. Weeks later, she thanked me, not just for the job, but for seeing her as a person.
This experience reminded me that we often get too focused on rules and forget to see the human side of things. Sometimes, breaking the rules is the right thing to do.
