Then they sicced Adam Karr on me, a litigator who defends employers accused of discrimination. His first question was whether I wanted to drop the complaint, and he then made it clear via browbeating that I should keep quiet ("I'm not an ombudsman I'm an attorney for the firm." "I don't have to answer that I'm not responding to a subpoena." "I hope I don't hear from you again. You'll be an employee with a pattern of complaining." "It seems like you don't want to work here." [These may not be word-for-word accurate quotes as I'm going from memory, but they're very close.])
After that I was moved into Brian's subgroup even though it was outside of my area of expertise. They worked on ERISA matters, whereas I previously worked on bank regulatory and consumer finance law. In his subgroup, I was treated like a persona non grata and told my career and compensation were at a dead end. I repeatedly told Adam Karr that the situation was bizarre and uncomfortable, but was ignored each time.
Again, what could I do other than quit?
I tried to stay positive, but feelings of apprehension started to linger. My office was on the floor where they tell employers how to legally get rid of complaining employees, and where they defend schools accused of allowing rape and other sexual misconduct. Almost every day I overheard such machinations against victims, and I empathized with them. As I was learning, the law doesn't really protect victims, because it's easy to game. Sometimes things got so bad that I would wake up in the middle of the night with feelings of dread and panic. This had never happened to me before. Curious for another perspective, I spent thousands of dollars on therapy, where I was constantly told that my feelings were a natural consequence of being in a terrible situation, and that the only solution was to leave the firm.
Eventually things came to a head. During my February 27 review I glanced at the document to see it describe me as "timely," "helpful," "excellent and enthusiastic," "always prompt," "consistent," "engaged," thorough," "accura[te]," "quick," "a great resource," "hardworking," and "an asset to the firm," with a "knack for connecting complex issues."
Then I looked at the next page to see there wasn't a dollar of raise or promotion. I wasn't surprised; although I made one-fifteenth of the average partner's 2016 income of $2 million, worked a grueling schedule and consistently received good reviews from others -- Brian was the ultimate decider of such things. He hadn't given me a raise or promotion in five years, so why would this year be any different? Brian asked if I saw the tear sheet that lists the raise or promotion. Yes, saw it. He then spent about 10 seconds showing how his outstretched arms could reach from one side of my unusually small office to the other, while his junior partner cackled. I guess they were mocking my low "status" within the firm.
This junior partner, Catalina Vergara, was superficially nice but someone I learned to avoid. When I was forced into Brian's group, I moved my office to her floor. She was the only partner from Brian's group who was in the Los Angeles office. She also marketed herself as an underprivileged Latina and champion of diversity, which sounded promising. I thought perhaps I could work with her. No, she was by far the most hostile partner in the group. I guess like Adam Karr, she was trying to show the senior partners that she would teach me a lesson. Once she flat out said something like, "because everyone's against you." What do you do in a moment like that? I walked away and pretended not to hear her. Later, I learned that associates mocked her claimed Latina status, as she came from well-off European ancestry. This was O'Melveny: disingenuous and avaricious people sitting around hoping to make millions off of victims' misery -- victims abused and injured far worse than me. Why would they treat me any differently than the people they litigated against?
Next, another of Brian's junior partners, Greg Jacob, stepped in. Mr. Jacob wanted to sell a small project to a mid-sized energy company, but they wouldn't grant the firm a prospective conflict waiver. This was a problem for Randy Oppenheimer, who was constantly trying to sell work to Chevron and Exxon. He was worried that Mr. Jacob's small project would conflict with his possible future representation of those companies. So they decided to use google searches to resolve this concern.
I was asked to do a google search of two company names, and then read pages of search results looking for a website that suggested a conflict. I was to do this 140 times, as there were 140 combinations of subsidiaries. This was a futile task; this process had no chance of finding all potential conflicts. And this at a firm with a history of conflict of interest issues. But the firm's general counsel Martin Checov and Jillian Weinstein were copied on the email, so I assume they signed off on this approach.
I called around to see if the library or conflicts group could help, but they both refused. They had turned this task down before it was assigned to me. I was now being given senseless tasks that the administrators could refuse. I don't know if Mr. Jacob was doing this to mess with me for his friend Brian, or because it was an atrociously run organization. It didn't really matter. I couldn't continue this for another year. So I gave up, told them I would quit as soon as I found another job and
criticized the handling of my 2015 complaint. I expected them to just let me move on quietly. No, even that was asking too much. The next day, after finishing a task, I
checked my email to see
Brian had terminated me suddenly with no severance or transition assistance, and certainly no references.
This brings me to the reason why I made this website. Before getting there, let me summarize what happened: I told Brian Boyle that I didn't want to work with someone who made an anti-Muslim comment, and in response he said he'd fire me. After learning about Mr. Boyle's background, I complained to the Director of Human Resources, Stacie Straw, their diversity manager, Mary Ellen Connerty, and their diversity partner, Walter Dellinger, a man who publicly claims to be of ethics. Their response was to move me directly under Brian, and let him and his team make my life difficult for a year until I quit. Well that was easy. Why does any employer worry about discrimination law? If someone complains, just fire them, and if they try to assert their legal rights, mess with them until they quit.
Actually, it might not be that easy outside of O'Melveny. You see, one reason O'Melveny is able to respond to complaints in the manner above, is that they force employees to sign away their rights. To work at O'Melveny, you must sign this document (pp. one, two, three, four, five). It states that victims of "discrimination or sexual harassment" cannot go to court, and they cannot talk about what happened. They have to use O'Melveny's confidential dispute resolution process -- a process that gets you the treatment above. Three courts, including the Ninth Circuit, have called this document "unconscionable" (cases
one,
two and
three) -- but O'Melveny still forces its employees to sign it. I think the main reason they use it is the confidentiality clause. Victim silence is key.
I hope this site helps protect others.
Thank you for granting me the dignity of reading my post, and God bless. (And if you're wondering, I've felt fine, wonderful even, since leaving.)
[Addendum: In June of 2018, O'Melveny reportedly stopped forcing employees to sign the mandatory arbitration and nondisclosure document, after a campaign by law students.]