Chapter 2: Hello, Welcome!
Corporate Speak: Rebellious Change
by Jared Marcs
I recall the exact moment I realized I was no longer a person to them—I was just a means to an end. At that time, I was working 55 to 60 hours a week. Voluntarily. I believed the rhetoric. I thought that hard work led to opportunity. That loyalty would be recognized.
I had taken on extra responsibilities without complaint, led underperforming teams to the top tier of regional rankings, and even mentored individuals who later received promotions over me. I sacrificed holidays, family events, and my physical health.
I played the game exactly as they taught me. And then I asked for a raise. Not even a huge one—just something modest to reflect the added responsibilities and the results I had delivered quarter after quarter.
The answer was clinical, wrapped in empathy-flavored HR speak: "We’d love to, but unfortunately, the budget doesn’t allow it this fiscal year."
That very same week, the company threw an extravagant internal gala to celebrate “record-breaking profits.” The CEO received a six-figure bonus. There was champagne in the breakroom and corporate swag with “Teamwork Makes the Dream Work” stitched into zip-up fleeces.
That’s when it clicked for me: This place isn’t broken. It’s working exactly as intended. The point was never to reward loyalty. The point was to exploit it. Most people are taught to believe HR is the safety net. That if things get weird—if your manager is out of line, if you're being overworked, if the environment becomes toxic—you go to HR, and they’ll fix it.
Let me be blunt:
HR is not your friend.
HR is not neutral.
HR is not on your side.
HR is a function of the business.
Its job is to protect the company from liability, not to advocate for the emotional or professional safety of employees. Instead of relying solely on HR, consider building a support network that includes peer connections for encouragement and advice.
Document important interactions and decisions to have a clear record. Additionally, explore external resources such as labor rights organizations or professional mental health services to ensure you are informed and supported outside the company.
When I first raised concerns about being chronically overworked, unsupported, and scapegoated by leadership, I was met with polite nods and carefully scripted affirmations: “That’s helpful feedback. “We’re actively reviewing our leadership policies.” “We want to make sure you feel heard.”
And then—nothing.
No follow-up.
No investigation.
No resolution.
Just a growing file with my name on it and more cryptic “development plans” disguised as support. Performance reviews started shifting. Expectations became vague. Conversations turned cold. I wasn’t being coached; I was being documented, not for growth, but for cover.

