I could have claimed sexual discrimination in the workplace but didn’t, and lost the job I loved. Here’s why I wouldn’t change a thing.

I walked into, no, I barged into a profession that has historically been male dominated and I did this at the highest level of law enforcement, as a United States Secret Service Agent. I did this by choice. I expected there to be doubters, critics, chauvinists, and jackasses alike. And, there were. There were also men who were tremendous supporters, authentic cheerleaders, and firm believers that female agents were not only necessary in the Service, they we are more than capable of doing the job.

That being said, I learned early on to keep my head down, keep my nose clean, and do my job. Oh, and never let them see you sweat. Ever.

Just over one year later…

“Don’t put that away too quickly. I’ll be back,” I said.

I had just handed over my service weapon to Renee Porter*, The US Secret Service’s Washington Field

Office Manager. She ticked off a box on her list and passed it back to me for my initials. I initialed. “I’ll be back,” I said, again. Renee passed the form back to me for my signature and smiled. “I hope so, Agent Wilkas” she said.

It was May 1992 and, up until this point, I had been carving out a successful career for myself within the United States Secret Service (USSS). My most recent protection detail was keeping watch over the grandchildren of President George H. W. Bush. Of 2,000 Agents, I was one of 180 women working in the

USSS at that time, and I was nailing the job. I had not just been a standout in training, I had become a wellrespectedand well-liked Agent in just over one year on the job in the most influential field office of the Secret Service – the Washington Field Office.

The USSS was my second career choice, behind working for the FBI. That didn’t work out due to an unfortunate technicality. When I studied in Seville, Spain my junior year of college, I experimented with a very small amount of hash, mixed in with tobacco, and rolled into a cigarette. Hash was decriminalized (i.e. it was considered legal) in Spain and, thus, I felt I was not doing anything wrong or illegal. When I filled out my application form honestly, I learned the FBI felt differently.

Now, that issue came back to haunt me and the USSS let me go because of it. Almost a year into being a Secret Service Agent, the FBI notified the USSS about my file and the hash admission. I wound up in an Internal Affairs investigation with the USSS. I was interviewed for hours on two separate occasions by two male Internal Affairs agents who, from the get-go, seemed to have presumed my guilt vs. my innocence.

They played the good cop/bad cop game which, having been trained in the same academy, was so transparent to me, it was almost comical. While I continued my duties as a Secret Service Agent, the investigation moved forward. Several months later, I was called into the office of the Special Agent in Charge of the Washington Field Office and told that the Secret Service has decided not to renew my contract, effective two weeks from that day.

I was devastated to lose my dream job. And, in the sleepless nights leading up to losing my job, I wondered what I should do if the other shoe did, in fact, drop. Should I fold and walk away, or should I double down and move forward, hiring an attorney to help me reverse the Service’s decision to not renew my contract, confident I had truth and a solid work record on my side?

I didn’t feel like I had any choice but to pursue this case, all the way to the end. I had done nothing illegal, I’d passed my polygraph, and after internal affairs spent hours grilling me, they had come up with nothing that would justify letting me go as an Agent. If nothing else, I was not going to let the government intimidate me into backing down, crawling away, or giving up on myself or my dream. They might have been ready to dismiss this case, but this was my life, my future. So, in the end, the
decision was easy. I had to pursue this case; after all, I was the one who had to look myself in the mirror.

The trouble was, once I started discussing the case with lawyers, USSS Equal Employment Opportunity (EEO) counselors, other agents, and the head of the USSS Women Agents Association, I was blatantly told the same thing: to win my job back, I should claim sexual discrimination. It was the only clear path to victory.

I did not feel that I had been treated unjustly nor was I currently being treated adversely because I was a woman. It was unnerving that, for almost everyone I talked to, gender discrimination seemed to be the automatic, go-to claim. Gender discrimination is a serious issue many women in the workforce face — I won’t discredit that. Still, it’s one thing to ask whether I had experienced any disparate treatment that I would attribute to me being a female; it’s another thing to outright push this tactic and make major assumptions without asking the appropriate questions.

Moreover, I knew the dangers if I used this strategy and won. I would always be known as an Agent who got into hot water with the Service, was let go, and was brought back because I sued based on sexual discrimination. I would be an Agent people, especially supervisors, treated with kid gloves for fear I was sue happy. I would be one of those Agents that male agents did not interact with so as not to get wrapped up in a dreaded
sexual discrimination case. Was that fair? No. I wasn’t going to blackmail the Service into letting me back in. But, I didn’t want the USSS to look the other way and just let this go. I wanted them todo what is right.

On October 29, 1992, I followed my attorney, Peter Carre, into a Washington, DC conference room in USSS headquarters. It all felt so surreal. I almost couldn’t believe it was actually happening. The day had finally arrived—my chance to have my say, to make my appeal for my job directly to the director of the USSS, Peter Mick*. After an hour of fighting valiantly and presenting an incredibly well-researched defense, including having me speak candidly to the director, Peter rested his case. The Director, after whispering back and forth with the government attorney that served as his counsel in this case, asked me just one question – “Do you believe you lied when you filled out your application to the Secret Service” My five-minute response essentially expressed that I did not believe I was lying on my application to the Secret Service and that I not only loved being a Secret Service Agent, I felt I was born for the job.

Fortunately, I had found work as both a private investigator and a protection agent shortly after leaving the USSS. At this point in time, I was working for the Organization of American States (OAS) as the only female on a security team of eight. A former Special Forces soldier and I were teamed up and tasked with

protecting the OAS Ambassador sent to Peru during two separate election missions. So, after my meeting with the Director of the USSS, I returned to my private sector protection mission in Lima, Peru. In early December, I received a phone call from Peter, my attorney. The Director had decided to uphold the Service’s decision to not renew my contract. In other words, I was not going back to work as a Special Agent with the United States Secret Service.

It was hard to break the news to my parents, who had always rooted for me and supported me in this line of work. It was hard to get used to it myself: the fight was over and I had lost. I was no longer Mary Beth Wilkas, US Secret Service Agent.

In the wake of this devastating news, I went on one of my customary 10-mile runs and took stock of what I held onto in the wake of this massive shift. My reputation, for one. I was looked at and remembered as an excellent and solid Agent who sought the truth. The dozens of phone calls I had received, once my colleagues realized I was no longer present in the Washington Field Office and beyond, confirmed that. I still had my integrity and the ability to hold my head up. I was able to face my parents and not cringe at the thought that I’d lied and violated what they’d taught me about right and wrong. That’s what mattered to me most.

As I continued on my run, I realized that, while I took this fight as far as
I could, there were things much more important to me than the United States Secret Service. This was one of my most pivotal realizations.

Yes, the Secret Service meant a lot to me. But being a USSS Agent was not who I was; it was what I did for a living. If things did not work out, I would still be the same person, just one that had experienced a major redirection that sent me down a totally unforeseen fork in the road.

I’m glad I was faced with that fork. Had I not, I don’t think I would have ever gone back to graduate school, let alone twice, to obtain a master’s degree in Forensic Psychology and a Doctorate in Clinical Psychology.

I would never have been exposed to the consistent challenges, the varied levels of missions, or the danger I was in in the world of international executive protection. I would likely not have met the phenomenal man I married, moved to the east coast, and started teaching psychology at the university level, which is where I am now in my career. I teach Abnormal Psychology and the Psychology of Crime and Violence at The George Washington University in Washington, DC. In addition, I conduct tele-mental health sessions and conduct mental health trainings.

All workplace sexual discrimination should be summarily snuffed out. As for me, I’m glad I defied the lawyers, career advisers, colleagues, and bosses who suggested I use that unfortunate claim to keep myself employed. I wouldn’t be Mary Beth Wilkas Janke, former United States Secret Service Agent, consultant in the fields of forensic and clinical psychology and professor at George Washington University, if not for maintaining my integrity and telling the truth.

 

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Workplace Discrimination
By Mary Beth Wilkas Janke

Dr. Mary Beth WilkasJanke is a former United States Secret Service Agent and current consultant in the fields of forensic and clinical psychology and professor at George Washington University, where she teaches Abnormal Psychology and the Psychology of Crime and Violence.She is the author of the book ‘The Protector.’ Download the prologue for free: https://drmarybeth.com/more/