An employee says a coworker sexually assaulted her at work.

Management says it will take the complaint seriously.

HR says it will be involved.

The employee says she is afraid to encounter the coworker again.

And then? According to a new lawsuit filed against the Atlanta Hawks and State Farm Arena, not nearly enough.

Tameika Hampton worked as an event security officer at State Farm Arena. She alleges that during an NBA YoungBoy concert, a coworker approached her from behind and pressed his genitals against her. Two days later, after a security captain noticed she appeared distressed, Hampton reported what had happened. The complaint says the report was escalated, she was told to submit it in writing, and management assured her that the matter would be taken seriously, HR would be involved, and her safety mattered.

Those are all the right words.

The lawsuit alleges the employer's actions did not match them.

Hampton claims she had to repeatedly follow up because HR did not timely communicate with her or schedule an interview. She alleges the interview did not occur until nearly a month later. Four days after that, the company allegedly closed the investigation, telling her the surveillance footage was too unclear to determine what happened. She also says the employer failed to give her clear safety protocols, failed to ensure she would not run into the accused coworker, and then scheduled them in a way that forced her to pass by him after a later shift, causing a panic attack.

And, according to the complaint, another female employee later accused the same coworker of similar conduct.

The defendants, of course, have not yet answered. These are allegations, not proven facts.

But the lesson for employers does not depend on how this case ultimately resolves.

When an employer learns of harassment, it owns the response.

Not the outcome. Not perfection. Not omniscience.

The response.

That means more than thanking the employee for coming forward and promising to investigate. It means acting immediately, communicating clearly, documenting thoroughly, and taking interim steps reasonably calculated to protect the complaining employee while the investigation runs its course.

In harassment cases, speed matters.

A delayed investigation is often no investigation at all. Memories fade. Video gets overwritten. Witnesses disappear. The complaining employee loses trust. And the accused employee remains in the workplace, creating ongoing risk to the complainant, other employees, and the business.

A prompt investigation does not mean a rushed or sloppy investigation. It means starting immediately. Identify witnesses. Preserve video. Lock down schedules. Review prior complaints. Check personnel files. Interview the complainant. Interview the accused. Interview anyone who may have seen or heard anything relevant. Follow the facts where they lead.

And tell the employee what is happening.

You do not need to share every detail. You should not promise a particular result. But silence is poison. "HR will be in touch" followed by weeks of nothing tells an employee that the company does not care, even if people behind the scenes are doing work.

Interim protection also matters.

An employer that receives a credible complaint of sexual touching cannot simply leave the parties to navigate the workplace on their own. Separate them. Adjust schedules. Change reporting lines. Provide escorts if needed. Clarify who the employee should contact if there is a problem. Make sure the complainant does not have to keep asking whether she will be safe walking to her car.

And be careful with the word "safe."

If you tell an employee, "You will not have to work with him," then make sure she does not have to work with him. If you tell her, "You will not be near him," then make sure she is not near him. Broken safety promises are litigation gasoline.

Employers also need to understand the legal standard. When the alleged harasser is a coworker, the employer is generally liable if it knew or should have known about the harassment and failed to take prompt and appropriate corrective action reasonably calculated to stop it.

That phrase, "reasonably calculated to stop it," is doing a lot of work.

It is not enough to check the box with an investigation. The response must be meaningful. If the accused remains employed, what guardrails are in place? If the evidence is inconclusive, what steps will prevent recurrence? If there are later similar complaints, will the employer reopen the investigation? If the complainant reports continued fear or trauma, how will the employer respond?

The law does not require employers to believe every complaint automatically. It does require them to take every complaint seriously.

That distinction matters.

Taking a complaint seriously means you do not prejudge it. You do not bury it. You do not slow-walk it. You do not make the complainant chase HR for updates. You do not treat unclear video as the end of the inquiry. You do not ignore scheduling realities. And you do not create a workplace in which the person who complained feels punished by having to manage her own safety.

Employers should have a harassment response playbook before the complaint arrives. It should include:

1. Immediate intake and documentation.
2. Preservation of evidence, including video, texts, emails, badge records, schedules, and prior complaints.
3. Prompt identification of interim protective measures.
4. A neutral investigator with authority and training.
5. Regular communication with the complaining employee.
6. A conclusion supported by facts, not vibes.
7. Corrective action tied to the seriousness of the conduct and the risk of recurrence.
8. Follow-up after the investigation closes.

The follow-up piece is often forgotten. It should not be.

After the investigation ends, ask whether the employee has experienced retaliation. Ask whether there have been further interactions. Confirm that protective measures are working. Make sure managers understand the boundaries. Then document all of it.

Harassment policies are only as good as the employer's willingness to enforce them when enforcement is uncomfortable.

Because when an employee reports sexual harassment, the employer has a choice.

It can treat the report like a compliance inconvenience. Or it can treat it like a workplace emergency that deserves urgency, care, and accountability.

Only one of those choices keeps employees safe and helps keep the employer out of court.

Remote work isn't the ADA accommodation silver bullet employees think it is.

The 5th Circuit just drove that point home in Hayes v. GStek, Inc., a case involving an Army contractor whose employee requested full-time remote work after being diagnosed with autism, depression, and social anxiety disorder.

And the court's message was unmistakable: just because a job could be performed remotely during COVID doesn't mean remote work is now a permanently reasonable accommodation under the ADA.

That distinction matters. A lot.

Hayes worked as an IT systems administrator at Fort Polk. During the pandemic, he worked remotely like millions of other employees. But when the Army transitioned contractors back to in-person work in 2022, Hayes struggled. After receiving multiple mental health diagnoses and inpatient psychiatric treatment, he requested full-time telework as a reasonable accommodation.

His employer, GStek, actually tried to make it work. The company allowed Hayes to work remotely two to three days per week. But the Army—which controlled the contract site and retained authority over telework decisions—refused to approve full-time remote work.

Eventually, after attendance problems and what Hayes himself described as a “mental breakdown,” GStek terminated his employment.

He sued under the ADA for failure to accommodate, discrimination, and retaliation. He lost across the board.

The ADA protects qualified employees who can perform the essential functions of the job with or without a reasonable accommodation. And the court concluded that in-person attendance was an essential function of this particular job.

The opinion leans heavily on a point courts have been making with increasing frequency post-COVID: temporary pandemic-era remote work arrangements did not permanently rewrite job descriptions.

The 5th Circuit quoted EEOC guidance directly:

The fact that an employer temporarily excused performance of one or more essential functions when it closed the workplace and enabled employees to telework … does not mean that the employer permanently changed a job's essential functions.

That's the key takeaway here.

Too many employees—and frankly some lawyers—still treat "you let me work remotely during COVID" as a trump card in ADA litigation. It isn't.

Courts continue to give substantial deference to an employer's judgment about what functions are essential, especially regarding attendance, supervision, teamwork, security, and operational needs. Here, the employer had an additional advantage: a government client that expressly required onsite work.

None of this means remote work can never be a reasonable accommodation. Sometimes it absolutely can. But this case is another reminder that the analysis remains intensely job-specific.

The stronger the evidence that physical presence matters to the role, the stronger the employer's defense becomes.

And COVID-era exceptions are increasingly being treated by courts exactly as they were intended: temporary exceptions.

There are bad managers. There are clueless managers. And then there's this manager, who just entered the race for Worst Employer of 2026.

An employee's father dies. The employee takes two days of bereavement leave immediately after the death. Then comes the harder part: planning the funeral, coordinating family travel, handling legal matters, cleaning out a house, and grieving like an actual human being.

So naturally his boss asked him to "consider limiting" his time off and maybe "take the second week off later" because staffing would be tight.

Yes. Really.

According to the viral Reddit post, the employee's father had been cremated, the family was awaiting an autopsy report, relatives needed to coordinate international travel, and the employee was trying to finalize funeral arrangements while navigating the emotional wreckage that follows the death of a parent.

The boss's response? Essentially: "Could you move the funeral? We're short-staffed."

What makes this story especially galling isn't just the lack of empathy. It's the spectacular failure of leadership judgment.

Here's a management rule that shouldn't need explaining: when an employee's parent or other close relation dies, you don't make that employee feel guilty for taking time to bury them.

You don't reference last year's vacation schedule. You don't complain about "undue stress on the team." And you definitely don't ask them to workshop alternate funeral dates around business operations.

Because no employee will ever forget that moment.

Employees can tolerate difficult deadlines and long hours. What they don't forget is how an employer treated them during the worst moments of their lives.

That's what destroys trust permanently.

And from a business perspective, this boss is incredibly shortsighted.

Want disengagement? This is how you get it. Want turnover? This is how you get it.

Employers love talking about loyalty, commitment, and culture. But culture is not your mission statement. Culture is how you treat people when life punches them in the face.

Bereavement policies are minimum standards, not maximums. Leadership demands humanity beyond whatever the handbook technically says.

If you're a manager reading this, here's the lesson: there are moments when operational inconvenience simply does not matter. A parent's funeral is one of them.

Figure out coverage. Redistribute work. Roll up your sleeves.

But don't ask an employee to rearrange grief around the staffing schedule.
Because if your business cannot survive one employee attending his father's funeral, your real problem isn't PTO coverage. It's leadership.

And this failure of leadership will earn you a nomination as the Worst Employer of 2026.

The pandemic-era "golden age of employee benefits" is over.

At least, that's the message some employers are sending as companies like Deloitte and Zoom slash paid parental leave and other family-friendly benefits.

And make no mistake, employees are paying attention.

For the past decade, and particularly since Covid sent most workers to their homes, employers spent a lot of time telling workers that they cared about things like "work-life balance." Companies competed to offer expanded parental leave, fertility coverage, adoption assistance, remote work flexibility, and caregiving support.

Now? Some of those same employers are quietly walking it all back, simply because they can.

When the labor market tightens, employers become generous. When the labor market softens, many revert to form. As the New York Times reports, Deloitte recently cut family leave in half for certain employees while also reducing vacation and eliminating adoption, surrogacy, and IVF support for some workers. Zoom also trimmed its parental leave offerings.

This isn't really about whether 16 weeks is objectively better than 8 weeks. It's about what these decisions communicate culturally.

Benefits are values statements. When an employer expands paid leave, it signals: "We understand employees have lives and families outside of work."

When an employer cuts those benefits, employees hear something very different: "Those priorities matter less now." Workers, however, have long memories about how companies behave during difficult moments.

The irony is that employers spent years learning the important lesson that flexibility and family-supportive policies are not merely perks. They are recruiting and retention tools. They help reduce turnover. They help keep women in the workforce. They help employees stay engaged and productive. That lesson apparently becomes easier to forget when quarterly budgets tighten.

To be fair, not every company is retreating. Starbucks recently expanded parental leave for retail workers. Some employers still understand that supporting working parents is good business, not charity.

But the broader trend matters because it reflects a changing employer mindset.

The post-pandemic rhetoric about empathy, employee wellness, and caregiving responsibilities is colliding with economic reality and political backlash against anything perceived as adjacent to DEI initiatives. Family-friendly policies increasingly are being viewed not as business necessities, but as optional costs.

That's shortsighted.

The United States already lags virtually every industrialized nation in paid family leave protections. Most American workers still depend entirely on employer generosity because there is no federal paid leave guarantee.

Which means every employer decision in this space carries outsized weight. Employees notice who supports families when times are hard. They also notice who stops supporting them the moment the leverage shifts.

The EEOC thinks it just filed a blockbuster anti-DEI lawsuit against The New York Times.

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