into the hospital and got everything all settled, the birth certificate came. I looked at it, and for place of birth it said, “En Route.” I said, “I’m not signing it.” They said, “Well, you have to.” I said, “No, I do not. I know where he was born, and he was born in Randolph.” So I called the capital in Concord, and the little gal there said, “Oh, Mrs. Glines, you’re going to have to sign it.” And I said, “Oh, no I’m not! Let me talk to your boss.” So I talked to him, and I said, “Are you telling me that if I had gotten out of the car and laid on the ground covered with snow, his birthplace would be Randolph?” And he said, “Yes.” Well, that did it—there was no way I was signing that birth certificate until it was changed. And it was—to “En Route, Randolph, New Hampshire.”
Recorded in Berlin, New Hampshire, on June 14, 2009.
TIA CASCIATO SMALLWOOD, 58 talks with her daughter, CHRISTINE SMALLWOOD, 27
Tia Casciato Smallwood: When we were in high school, my friends and I would talk about being teachers. But when I went to college, I decided to major in economics, and I started taking finance and accounting courses. I had this great professor—this wizened, just miserable old man at Rutgers. I had him for first-year accounting, and I was the only woman in the class. When I showed up in second-year accounting and business law, he said to me, “Miss Casciato, you are the only woman that has ever gotten this far in my class, and I will make sure every day is a living hell for you.”
He used to grade us on our class participation and how we would answer questions, and he said to me at the beginning of every class, “I hope you prepared, Miss Casciato, because the most difficult question of the period will be yours.” I had to fight to even enroll in these classes. I said, This is crazy, and I really became very much of a feminist.
In my senior year, I couldn’t get a job interview. I think I wrote eighty letters. I remember saying to my dad, “I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t have a job.” He said, “Well, you went through your savings, so I guess you either have to live on the street or you’ll have to come back home.”
Finally, I got an interview at Johnson & Johnson. I owned one dress: it was a minidress in shades of red and pink with these big block geometric squares. And I had tights and heels on. My hair was really long, no makeup, and I was thin. I walked in, and this guy interviewed me for fifteen minutes. Then he said, “You need to stand up and turn around.” I said, “What are you talking about?” He said, “Stand up and turn around.” I stood up and I leaned over his desk and I said, “I don’t need this job that much.” And that’s when he said, “You’re hired!”
They offered me this job for $7,020 a year, $135 a week. I called my father and I was crying: “You know, Dad, there are guys from Rutgers who are getting offers at J&J doing the same kind of work I am for $11,000 to $12,000, and they’re going to pay me $7,000.” And he said, “It’s a really good company. You are really good, and you need to know that somebody will recognize that.You should take the job.” I did, but I remember being really, really insulted. That was the way it was, and I think you know my feeling: I think it’s like that today, only it’s much more subtle.
Steven was born in 1978. When I got pregnant, I went to tell my boss, and he couldn’t believe that I was going to have a baby. I said, “Don’t worry about it; I’ll be back.” And he said, “I don’t know what we’re going to do about your stock options.” I said, “What do you mean?” He said, “I don’t think that we know what to do when you’re on maternity leave.” Then I got this phone call from HR, and they said, “We don’t know what to do about stopping and starting your options.” I remember saying, “I cannot believe that you guys are going to worry about
Recorded in Berlin, New Hampshire, on June 14, 2009.
TIA CASCIATO SMALLWOOD, 58 talks with her daughter, CHRISTINE SMALLWOOD, 27
Tia Casciato Smallwood: When we were in high school, my friends and I would talk about being teachers. But when I went to college, I decided to major in economics, and I started taking finance and accounting courses. I had this great professor—this wizened, just miserable old man at Rutgers. I had him for first-year accounting, and I was the only woman in the class. When I showed up in second-year accounting and business law, he said to me, “Miss Casciato, you are the only woman that has ever gotten this far in my class, and I will make sure every day is a living hell for you.”
He used to grade us on our class participation and how we would answer questions, and he said to me at the beginning of every class, “I hope you prepared, Miss Casciato, because the most difficult question of the period will be yours.” I had to fight to even enroll in these classes. I said, This is crazy, and I really became very much of a feminist.
In my senior year, I couldn’t get a job interview. I think I wrote eighty letters. I remember saying to my dad, “I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t have a job.” He said, “Well, you went through your savings, so I guess you either have to live on the street or you’ll have to come back home.”
Finally, I got an interview at Johnson & Johnson. I owned one dress: it was a minidress in shades of red and pink with these big block geometric squares. And I had tights and heels on. My hair was really long, no makeup, and I was thin. I walked in, and this guy interviewed me for fifteen minutes. Then he said, “You need to stand up and turn around.” I said, “What are you talking about?” He said, “Stand up and turn around.” I stood up and I leaned over his desk and I said, “I don’t need this job that much.” And that’s when he said, “You’re hired!”
They offered me this job for $7,020 a year, $135 a week. I called my father and I was crying: “You know, Dad, there are guys from Rutgers who are getting offers at J&J doing the same kind of work I am for $11,000 to $12,000, and they’re going to pay me $7,000.” And he said, “It’s a really good company. You are really good, and you need to know that somebody will recognize that.You should take the job.” I did, but I remember being really, really insulted. That was the way it was, and I think you know my feeling: I think it’s like that today, only it’s much more subtle.
Steven was born in 1978. When I got pregnant, I went to tell my boss, and he couldn’t believe that I was going to have a baby. I said, “Don’t worry about it; I’ll be back.” And he said, “I don’t know what we’re going to do about your stock options.” I said, “What do you mean?” He said, “I don’t think that we know what to do when you’re on maternity leave.” Then I got this phone call from HR, and they said, “We don’t know what to do about stopping and starting your options.” I remember saying, “I cannot believe that you guys are going to worry about
Similar Books
