Over Ginger's Dead Body

A hot mic picked up this talk between New Jersey state Senator Paul Sarlo and Lieutenant Governor Dale Caldwell. It was a gut punch to women like me.

Last week, just steps away from the casket of former New Jersey Governor Richard Codey in the State House Rotunda, a camera and hot mic picked up this conversation between state Senator Paul Sarlo and Lieutenant Governor Dale Caldwell:

The background noise makes it hard to hear every word, but based on what is audible, these two elected officials were talking about minority- and women-owned small businesses, and about how those businesses do not have lawyers and lobbyists to protect our interests in Trenton the way that big businesses do.

Senator Sarlo seemed to think it’s funny how New Jersey’s government—in his own words—kills women- and minority-owned small businesses with regulations.

Lieutenant Governor Caldwell appeared to say that the newly installed administration of Governor Mikie Sherrill intends to do something about that problem.

It’s about damn time somebody did.

I happened to have tears in my eyes when this video came across my screen on Friday afternoon. I was sitting in a chair in my den doomscrolling, at the end of what had been a really tough and sleepless week. Just a few hours earlier, a veterinarian had come to my home and euthanized my 14-year-old dog, Ginger.

And as unbelievable as it sounds, while the veterinarian and I had been kneeling together over Ginger’s body that morning, we had found ourselves discussing independent-contractor policy.

We were the women Senator Sarlo was laughing about, the women whose smallest of small businesses he apparently thinks it’s funny to kill.

Not-So-Small Talk

My longtime vet who had diagnosed Ginger’s kidney disease, and who had been by my side in my home for my dog Blue’s euthanasia a few years ago, was the wonderful Dr. Lauren Semanchik. Tragically, her ex-boyfriend—a state trooper formerly with Governor Phil Murphy’s security detail—murdered her, along with her new boyfriend, before killing himself back in August.

That’s why, last week, I had to call on a total stranger for help with Ginger’s euthanasia. As if the day wasn’t already going to be hard enough.

Dr. Sandra pulled into my driveway up in Morris County something like 24 hours after Senator Sarlo and Lieutenant Governor Caldwell had that conversation down in Trenton. I saw her car through my window, and I left Ginger sleeping peacefully in my den as I went outside to meet this new vet.

Somewhere between my front walkway and driveway, I extended a handshake with the intent to thank Dr. Sandra for coming. But then I burst into tears.

A generous, kind hug from Dr. Sandra and a few minutes after that, all three of us were in my den, in the same exact spot where Dr. Lauren had euthanized Blue, only this time with Ginger in my lap as Dr. Sandra prepared the needles.

There’s a weird couple of minutes when you’re euthanizing a dog. Time passes between the first needle, which puts the dog into a deep sleep, and the second needle, which completes the process. Some people cry. Some go quiet. A lot of us, I’m told, make small talk with the vet.

Dr. Sandra, quite skillfully, asked me to tell her about Ginger after the first needle went in. I got to share some happy stories about the good times while petting Ginger and waiting for her eyes and head to droop for the last time.

But I started to have trouble holding back the grief, thinking about Lauren and Blue and Ginger all at the same time. I deflected as I choked back tears.

“Could I ask you a question?” I said.

“Sure,” Dr. Sandra replied. “I’m an open book.”

“Why did you start your own euthanasia business?”

Dr. Sandra explained how she had previously worked for a euthanasia company, but its owners had wanted to make her an employee and dictate her schedule. Dr. Sandra has kids. She wanted to be with them outside of school hours and on holidays. She didn’t want anyone interfering with her work-life balance as a mom. So, she opened her own shop.

I was absolutely stunned as I held Ginger’s dying body in my arms.

As best as I can recall, I blubbered something along the lines of, “You know, I’m my own boss, too. And I’ve spent a lot of time fighting for women like us to be able to live the kinds of lives we want to live.”

Our Lives are Not a Joke

You can imagine how offended I felt just a few hours later when I saw Senator Sarlo laughing out loud about using our own government to try and kill the small businesses that women like us own.

It felt similar to the time Governor Murphy laughed out loud at the widespread public outcry over the proposed independent-contractor rule at New Jersey’s Department of Labor & Workforce Development—a rule proposal that continues to threaten many of us smallest of small-business owners to this day.

Senator Sarlo, while he was supposed to be paying his respects to former Governor Codey, had instead demonstrated a lack of respect for us all. And that was after he and state Senator Benjie Wimberly each personally attempted to protect the male-dominated financial-adviser profession from the proposed rule, similar to how state Senator Jon Bramnick tried to protect the caddies who carry his golf clubs in that male-dominated profession.

It’s beyond frustrating that all the rest of us have to keep fighting for our livelihoods while certain elected officials play favorites. Independent contractors like me may not have dedicated lobbyists, but we have absolutely been raising our voices and making our frustration clear for years now.

In fact, I went and testified again just last month at the State House in Trenton—yes, Senator Sarlo, on my own time and my own dime—about how we need our lawmakers to protect us all. Here is that testimony, for any lawmakers who may have missed it:

And here is the testimony I gave in June—also on my own time and my own dime—at the public hearing about New Jersey’s proposed independent-contractor rule:

And here is the opening statement I gave before the U.S. Senate in July—yet again on my own time and my own dime—about how what’s happening in New Jersey is an escalation of horribly destructive attacks that independent contractors have been enduring nationwide for years now:

Women like me, from New Jersey to California to Minnesota to Washington, D.C., have been stating our case clearly for years.

What we need is more lawmakers who are willing to listen and make this madness stop. We need elected officials who take our concerns seriously.

Let These Words Fork Lightning

The ability to be an independent contractor is incredibly important to women, in particular. We are far more likely to own the smallest of small businesses—those with no employees—than we are to own businesses that have employees.

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, while women own just 22.3% of employer firms, we own 42.7% of nonemployer firms. That’s why restrictive independent-contractor policy has a disproportionate, negative effect on women—an effect that is documented in this report from members of the California Advisory Committee to the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights, and by leading economists from the Mercatus Center at George Mason University, who most recently looked at New Jersey data in particular.

The Independent Women’s Forum, less than a year ago, documented that 90% of women nationwide agree flexibility in the way we work is especially important to parents and caregivers. That’s because two out of three family caregivers are women.

Maybe we’re caring for young kids while we’re working. Or helping aging parents. Or ailing spouses.

And yes, I count needing to work through things like the last days of Ginger’s kidney failure as family caregiving, as well.

I sincerely hope that Lieutenant Governor Caldwell meant what he said in that hot mic video from the State House Rotunda, about the Sherrill administration intending to do things differently in this policy area.

We are in desperate need of lawmakers who will stop laughing at us and start talking with us about independent-contractor policy. Give us smallest of small-business owners—especially the women—a meaningful seat at the table when crafting policy that directly affects our lives and livelihoods. Stop proposing deeply misguided legislation and rules that will hurt us.

I’m having a tough week here at home, but even so, I remain available to any lawmakers who are willing to have these much-needed policy discussions. And I am hopeful that our state’s newly elected female governor will have our backs, because it certainly would be far easier to have conversations than be forced to keep fighting.

Either way, women like me who know what matters most in life are not going to let our way of earning a living go gently into that good night.

There is, quite simply, far too much at stake.

---

In loving memory of my sweet girl Ginger, 2012-2026