Keep Your Roses

By Melonyce McAfee
1. Here's a plot line for the writers at NBC's The Office: It's the
last Wednesday in April. Paper-salesman Jim presents a bouquet of
tulips to his office crush, receptionist Pam. The accompanying card
reads: "For all you do. Happy Secretaries Day." Competitive and cringeinducing boss Michael, until now oblivious to the holiday, sees the card
and orders a garish bouquet, large enough to blot out Pam's head and
overshadow Jim's arrangement. The bouquet arrives at 4:49 p.m. Eyes
roll. Administrative Professionals Daythe Hallmark holiday that leads
to interoffice jealousy, discomfort, and not much else.
2. The National Secretaries Association got the ball rolling with
Professional Secretaries Week in 1952. The holiday was renamed
Administrative Professionals Week in 2000, but I prefer the tell-it-like-itis Secretaries Day. The NSA (now, naturally, the International
Association of Administrative Professionals) claims the day is meant to
enhance the image of administrative workers, promote career
development, and encourage people to enter the field. But does it
really do any of the above?
3. In my first job out of college, I worked as a typist at a title
company, a job akin to cryptography. I pecked my way toward carpal
tunnel syndrome to turn chicken scratch into property reports. Typists
served the entire office, but title officers also had personal secretaries.
On Secretaries Day, we typists sucked our teeth at the bouquets on the
secretaries' desks. At my next corporate job, I'd gained an "assistant"
title. But along with the other assistants, I was still left empty-handed.
The office professionals chipped in for a bouquet for the division
secretary, who regularly pawned off duties on us assistants and huffed
when asked to, well, work. "I can't believe they got her flowers," we
hissed.
4. My mother, a former hospital administrative assistant, was
surprised with three greeting cards and a gorgeous scarf last

Secretaries Day. She wasn't aware of the holiday and was touched that
the nurses in her department took the opportunity to thank her for
working hard on special projects. But she also had to listen to a chorus
of "I didn't get anything" from other admins. She says that didn't
diminish her pleasure, but it does prove my point. When the holiday
makes someone feel appreciated, it almost invariably leaves others out
in the cold.
5. Maybe part of the problem is that in the 50 years since the
holiday began, the duties of a secretary have been farmed out across
the office, and the job definition is no longer clear. A secretary used to
be the woman who answered phones, took dictation, typed, picked up
dry cleaning, and stole your husband, if she was really good. Now she
(or he) might give PowerPoint presentations or build a Web site.
Meanwhile, someone else might do the typing and filing.
6. The confusion over who qualifies as a secretary creates social
anxiety about either over-celebrating the holiday or under-celebrating
it. One Secretaries Day, a former advertising-sales assistant and coworker of mine got lovely plants from colleagues who rushed to point
out that they'd gotten her a gift even though she wasn't really a
secretary. She got the impression they thought she might be offended
by being lumped in with the admin staff. The holiday forces workers,
like it or not, to evaluate how they stack up. Mail-room guy, copy clerk,
typist, receptionist, administrative secretary, executive assistantare
you low enough on the totem pole to merit a gift? Or are you too low?
7. Perhaps my impatience with Secretaries Day springs from job
dissatisfaction, as an executive assistant at a New York-based
magazine suggested when we mused about why the holiday creates
bitterness. Truein my mind, I should be the boss. And I resent being
reminded of my slow progress up the chain of command every year.
Those of us who yearn to be professionals, not administrative
professionals, tend to bristle at the idea that we're just boosters for the
big boys and girls.
8. Some bosses feel compelled to take their secretary, assistant,
or whoever out to lunch on Secretaries Day. It's a nice gesture, but who

wants to sit through that awkward meal? Anyone who has seen
the Curb Your Enthusiasm episode in which Larry David takes his maid
on a squirm-worthy lunch date at his country club knows the potential
disaster of forced boss-employee conviviality. Instead of Secretaries
Day, why not just chip in for a big cake on the Friday before Labor Day
and toast everyone in the officewouldn't that be kinder, not to
mention easier? I'd much prefer that to a holiday that's a catch-all for
"attagirl," "I'm sorry for being an insufferable employer," and "we
should talk about that raise."