Getty Images and Unsplash+.
“The culture is such that we have a “mission” but even though they encourage self-care in theory, it doesn’t play out in reality.” (co-worker)
After the 2024 November election results, like others who had the privilege to do so, I stayed in bed for a day, devastated. I knew we were in trouble so I started to think about what I could contribute that might be useful to others as I knew all hell would break loose come Jan 20, 2025. I wracked my brain for ways I could be of use.
I chose to take a job at a nonprofit suicide hotline, thinking my counseling background and academic experience could help vulnerable people targeted by the Trump regime. After the election, social media was flooded with memes reminding those who were depressed or suicidal—especially marginalized individuals facing Trump’s waves of bigotry and cruelty—to reach out to 24/7 support lines. My friends, neighbors, and students were depressed and terrified. I figured any emergency hotline would need more workers, and I wanted to do my part. I was hired. The position was remote so I could work from home but there were a lot of rules around being online. All was well during training. It was clear to me that most of the employees at the crisis center–while greatly undervalued and underpaid–did the work because they cared about humanity and wanted to support people. The employees were kind, committed to good mental health, and determined to do their part to avoid creating a toxic environment. It was a refreshing change from academia and the workers were mostly compassionate and warm despite the low pay and being undervalued. But the honeymoon didn’t last long.
Let me back up by saying that I am a 57-year-old woman and a sociology professor (adjunct) with some health issues. I recognize that not having to ask to use the bathroom at school or work my entire adult work life is a privilege compared to many, although this should be a right for all workers, not a privilege for people with advanced degrees. I never expected that working as a low-paid chat/text counselor on a crisis line in the name of the greater good would come at the cost of my body autonomy.
During training, management instructed us to announce every bathroom break by posting a message on Slack for everyone to see during our Zoom sessions. Announcing my bathroom use was something I hadn’t done since elementary school, and it felt vulgar and shameful. After the training and during the last week of January 2025, I got into trouble three times within three days as I had accidentally used the restroom in my home “inappropriately.” I did not understand the policy. The policy they tried to enforce did not exist in their handbook (they probably changed it after I quit) and there was no official bathroom policy when a crisis counselor took a chat. I contacted the higher-ups for clarification as I was confused. The administrator responded: “We have a general policy that no one should be stepping away from an interaction for any reason unless it is an emergency.” I pointed out that the bathroom policy was especially a problem for women, older workers, and people with health issues and that restrictive bathroom policies disproportionately impacted marginalized groups, reinforcing inequalities, in so many words–and that there was nothing in the handbook that stated we could not use the bathroom during a chat. She told me to get a doctor’s note anyway.
Sometimes crisis chats went on for more than 2-3 hours–at the least–and crisis counselors would want to hurry to complete the chat just to use the bathroom, which is unfair to both the person in crisis and the worker. Dutifully, I emailed my doctor to ask if he would write a note for me to use the bathroom. He knows my health conditions and has no problem writing the note. But co-workers informed me that even with a doctor’s permission slip to use the restroom, I still might not be allowed as even with a note, other counselors had been denied access to the bathroom in their own homes, so getting the doctor’s note most likely was for naught.
The situation only got more absurd. As another example, workers were required to stay on calls until they concluded—no matter how long that took. If a call stretched three hours past the end of your shift? Too bad. Dinner plans or childcare arrangements didn’t matter. Meanwhile, we were not allowed to work overtime. We were subjected to at least eight hours of constant surveillance on Zoom cameras, although we could turn the camera off for two twenty-minute breaks or a quick restroom break if not on a crisis chat.
Also, apparently, in a meeting that I was not in, the administration told employees if they needed disability accommodations, they needed to find another job instead. This was disturbing to hear (as well as illegal) especially since the nonprofit boasts how they hire folks with varying levels of ability. Keep in mind, too, that this is a chat/text line, not a phone/video line so no one in crisis would talk, hear, or see the crisis counselors who were on Zoom cameras their entire shift. I was so anxious about following the nebulous policies that it not only impacted my mental and physical health, it also impacted my dog, who became a nervous wreck during my time there. I ultimately decided to quit for my health.
Like many workplaces, the organizational culture had a lot of contradictions. While management spoke of the importance of “self-care,” the environment was not healthy. Some supervisors micromanaged workers as if we were convicts rather than trained professionals providing essential mental health services. As one example, a young supervisor told me that they had to micromanage workers “because workers take advantage,” and “workers need to be monitored as otherwise they will slack off, “I became a supervisor to make sure that the company wasn’t being taken advantage of.” She also talked about “time theft” and how it was important to work even if there was no one in crisis…she also said that workers do better with the camera on as they are “more productive” than if their cameras are off. Workers fare better and are more productive when they are not micromanaged as we all know. I never heard any supervisor discuss wage theft, which was a much bigger problem in my opinion.
From a sociological perspective, not only are the bathroom policies inconvenient and humiliating, but they also are a form of structural violence that dehumanizes workers and undermines our well-being. Bathroom restrictions reflect power relations within the workplace. Employers justify these limitations to maintain productivity, framing bathroom breaks as sources of lost labor. However, this narrative is a way to exercise control, where employers assert dominance over workers. The bathroom restrictions are a way to regulate our bodies and lack any respect for basic human needs. The message is clear: workers’ bodies are commodities for maximum efficiency, even on the crisis line.
As we all know there are physical and psychological health consequences due to bathroom restrictions. Prolonged withholding can lead to urinary tract infections, kidney issues, gastrointestinal problems, and more. Additionally, the shame and stress associated with being unable to honor a basic physiological need contributes to poor job satisfaction, which of course carries over to the person in crisis. As one example, a couple of days ago, a neighbor told me that she had called a crisis line recently but felt completely dismissed and said she would never call again. I couldn’t help but wonder if the person she talked to was simply desperate for a bathroom break or emotionally depleted after eight hours of surveillance and micromanagement.
How can we expect crisis workers to offer compassion and stability when their working conditions are dehumanizing? After I quit, I decided to file a report with OSHA as bathroom breaks are part of the right to a humane workplace. Who knows how much longer OSHA will be around given the Trump era, so I figured I better hurry.
But as it stands, OSHA says:
“Employers may not impose unreasonable restrictions on restroom use, and employees should not take an excessive amount of time during bathroom breaks.
A worker’s need to access the restroom can depend on several factors, including fluid intake, air temperature, medical conditions, and medications. Some common conditions that require frequent restroom use include pregnancy, urinary tract infections, constipation, abdominal pain, diverticulitis, and hemorrhoids.
Because restroom access frequency can vary greatly from person to person, no federal standard for the permitted number of restroom breaks or a specific restroom usage schedule exists.
*Permit workers to leave their work area to use the restroom as needed
*Provide an acceptable number of restrooms for the current workforce
*Avoid putting unreasonable restrictions on bathroom use
*Ensure that restrictions on restroom use do not cause extended delays
*Employers must also make sure that their restroom policy does not violate federal antidiscrimination laws. (OSHA: Restroom Break Laws | OSHA Education Center)
The importance of labor laws and workers’ protections is even more important given the larger political realities at this moment. As one example, Arizona Congressman Andy Biggs has sponsored a bill to abolish OSHA, which would further strip workers of basic protections. Arizona Congressman Andy Biggs sponsors bill to abolish OSHA.
The Trump administration wants to abolish OSHA and other departments that support workers’ rights which will further strip workers of basic protections.
Although the nonprofit industrial complex, issues around corporate funding, and exploitative labor practices in nonprofits are problematic and need to be addressed, nonprofits should not be abolished completely. Crisis workers—like all workers—deserve dignity, autonomy, and humane conditions. Being a non-profit and a crisis center doesn’t justify worker abuse. Crisis counselors shouldn’t have to risk a health or hygiene crisis to work as crisis workers on a Crisis Hotline. Nonprofits are already on Trump’s hit list but adopting inhuman policies within the nonprofit itself doesn’t help the cause. If this continues, more workers will need to call the very crisis lines we work for as we are in crisis because of our working conditions—if there are any places left to call, that is. Similarly, workers won’t have any place to report worker abuses if the Trump regime has its way.
*Name of crisis center withheld for reasons due to privacy
