Blue Origin

I had the misfortune of working at Blue Origin. Where egos and animalistic mindsets reign. Where courage and communication go to die. Where patience and clarity are concepts unknown. Where lies and rumors are given just as much attention as the work itself. Where the book Radical Candor is unknown to any. And where power grabs become a survival trait that boost the internally weakest of minds. In a company of roughly 11,000 employees, how accurate is one person’s experience? I can’t say. I speak to mine and know that positive employee experiences there are possible. I’ve read opinion pieces online of horror stories of others, demeaning, sexist in nature. I can’t speak to those. But in all other cases I hope those, with the same misfortune as I, got to move on with life after leaving there. I did not. The horror of Blue Origin followed me after quitting, into my home, into my family, destroying my life, my livelihood, and my desire to exist.

Blue Origin employees hacked my phone. My work laptop was stolen. My hundreds of files went missing from a cloud-based system. And my parking lot list of ideas saved to my desktop brought up by teammates in meetings before I shared them. How do I know? I can explain.

Though I’d rather write about the experience as a whole, the result, and then see the truth, the explanation unfold in this painful, rough draft that serves as the only power I have to try and make sense of the completely irrational, hateful and worst years of my life.

I’m guilty of not seeing what was right in front of me. The hate and destruction stared me in the face. Though I had worked years not to let my mind run away with itself based on things that weren’t seen or heard directly, to not read into things, to not take things personally, to do my best and spin things positively no matter what negativity or hate presented itself. Apparently, this training was to a fault.

It’s like knowing that our inherent biases should largely be overcome with our ability to see clearly and make rational sense of situations but also knowing that they serve a protective and useful purpose at times. That gray area where the cumulative of experiences that build wisdom serve to be the best determinant of how to most accurately perceive a situation.

There truly is no “right” perception. Everyone perceives, or should I write misperceives. That’s what we’re all doing, all of the time. The story of what we see and experience around us is in fact made up by each of us. Each and every one of us. So, while this story is of one’s perception, my perception, it is at least based on direct, observable, first-hand experience.

I’m not one to normally be that off in gut feel, gauging people, or perception. I’ve been told many times of my accuracy in doing so. However, in reflection, it has mostly been in situations in which my feelings or emotions are largely unaffected. Situations of others, for example.

I’m guilty of being too direct, too often, expecting others want and appreciate the same. For those that don’t, it can be exhausting dealing with such directness. Those that value the same, can rise up to communication that can quickly solve problems, save time, and arguably address any situation with the respect and candor it deserves.

At the same time, I’m guilty of stuffing my feelings, thinking situations, people, are dynamic and will organically unfold and change over time without me having to make a decision or take action. Especially, if I’ve already tried to take action. I’m guilty of substance use in my personal time to do the stuffing.

What started out as seeming pettiness, sarcasm, and lack of support from my closest teammate, over time, developed into hate, sabotage, and ruin. “I don’t know why you were hired.” “I don’t know why you’re here.” He would repeatedly say. Withholding information or giving the wrong information. Working as a team with others. Annoying, but still a job to get done and professionally none -the-less.

Fast forward to nearing the demise of that dreadful experience to daily bullying, mockery, and harassment. For using the bathroom, for working in the breakroom, for eating a banana at my desk, for my joints popping without intention, for every noise I made, for everything I did, mockery. For every place I went on property, followed. Then the closest work friend I made from the computer desk - began to repeat my private texts back to me verbatim. Then my work laptop that only went to the ladies bathroom on the floor of Blue Origin, or my home, went missing. Then my work files went missing. Then my parking lot list of ideas saved to the missing laptop repeated in a team meeting (before I shared them).

I was being shut out of the job prior to, and didn’t see it. I didn’t see it because I directly asked my manager about it. Asking if I should resign. Asking if I should take a demotion and work on another team. I tried to be direct and take action. I had only worked for small companies. I stupidly didn’t know people got shut out of jobs. In small companies, in my experience, managers have enough respect to let people go. No games, no time wasted, no disrespect to the employee. If it’s not working, end it. Not at Blue Origin. Apparently, at Blue Origin, you beat down, bully, invade privacy - and the worst - I haven’t gotten to that yet. All instead of letting someone go. I didn’t see it because I didn’t want to; I moved halfway across the country for this job, thinking I could contribute to something far greater than myself, thinking I would grow as a person as a result.

Admittedly, I wasn’t as strong as my teammates. My self-esteem had taken a beating for a while. My work was good. My peer performance reviews from others across the company, not on my immediate team, good. I made the leadership team of a new product roll out where the work I did was good. Prior to, all my work had been previously reassigned (hence the shutting out). And this last project, I was told, wasn’t meant to go anywhere; but it did; I made the leadership team. I was told to keep my work simple, then the co-working team on the project rolled out detailed, extensive analysis. I still attempted to shine through the work as best as I could and the result was good, good enough to make the leadership team.

On the day I made the leadership team and finally had a few new assignments handed down that day, I was eating alone in the breakroom when someone I didn’t know walked right up with another and called me a loser to my face. I don’t know why. I didn’t know that person, or the other with her. I had stayed up many nights past 10pm, 11pm, 12pm working. I had for the most part done my best. My best - with the caveat - that my work can be far better in an environment where I’m not being mocked, harassed, bullied and work assignments taken away.

There’s a beginning to the mockery, bullying and harassment. A buried story in there. One that lacks courage, ability to communicate, ability to not rage against a trigger. Ability to not make up stories based on misperceptions. I feel I have to share it - at my peril as a believable (rookie) writer. It’s the most petty, repulsive, boring, stupid set of stores that could ever exist on the planet. Which to me, describes a lot about Blue Origin.

At the end of the day, the above stories, all lead to animalistic behavior that beats down on someone instead of talking to them. That simple, that easy. The reasons behind the stories - all I see is hate. Hate and disrespect - the desire to feel powerful - chosen over communication. But we are, after all, a species that has advanced its talents and psyche into a slow self-destruction of our own existence. So, the observable, the experienced of the grossest behavior at Blue Origin is not too far off from the state of the world as it stands.

After leaving Blue Origin, mocking, harassment, and bullying followed me - by my neighbors, in public, even by my family. Here’s where I risk losing creditability, and the reader. Because the story sounds crazy. Here’s where the writing is needed most. When what has unfolded and is unfolding right before my eyes is seemingly so clear, with a mind that has spent years training on the logical, the rational, and the ability to see as clearly as possible (literally, that is what I read and study in my spare time), how could this possibly not be true. And now, I’ve had a year to continuously observe, take note, and attempt to prove the truth.

While others got to quit Blue Origin and leave their stories behind, in the online writings, in their distant memories, the destruction of my life, my career, my livelihood is what I live with every day. There is no changing or working with what happened. I am trolled in person, online, hated by communities and unable to move forward.

Hence these writings. The only outlet, the only power I have to freeing the stories and potentially getting them outside myself, outside my mind, and into the world as I see the truth. The Blue Origin set of stories have a related but separate beginning, and a related but separate following. Both just as unfathomable as the Blue Origin stories themselves.