I got gently reprimanded earlier this week for being outspoken at a staff meeting. Five interns will be leaving over the next two weeks, and I wrote up a document listing what each of the interns have been responsible for, so we could talk about how the rest of the interns will (or will not) cover their work. Anthony glanced at the list and declared that there would be no problem. I tried to express that if we don't make some intentional decisions here, there most definitely will be a problem, because 5 interns can't do 10 interns' worth of work. I explained that there were some points at which I was responsible for several of the tasks that he thought that one person could handle, and I was overwhelmed, and my quality of work suffered.

After the meeting, Anthony told me that I needed to calm down, that everything would be fine, and that my manner was possibly overwhelming the new intern.
Anthony (cockily): Trust me that I know what I'm doing here, okay?
Claudia (unspoken-ly): Anthony, I've been here for 10 weeks. If you wanted me to trust that you knew what you were doing in relation to this project, you would have earned that trust by now.

Evidentiary support for my position, or things that have indicated that you don't know what you're doing:
1. You don't know what we (the interns) are doing.
2. You are never here. (Thank God.)
3. Though you are never here, and though you declared me the project coordinator (and then disappeared), you have not, in the past several weeks, asked me to tell you about how the project is proceeding.
4. You hold back vital information and reveal it as some kind of awesome surprise that you in your brilliance have conceived of. You do this about once a week. This week, for example: No one, including me and the deputy director, knew that a new intern would be coming on to our project this week. I discovered this on Tuesday morning when an intern introduced himself, said he was working on the houses of worship project, and asked me, "Do you know where Anthony is? Do you know when he'll get here?" I had, let me remind you, spent the previous afternoon trying to make a plan for how to reorganize the project. Knowing that a new intern was coming is essential information for such a task. Note, too, that I was making the plan for reorganization. Not you, the supervisor, but me, the intern. This indicates one of two things:
a. You don't do your job, so an intern has to do it for you.
b. You're bad at your job, as indicated by the fact that none of the interns were aware that you had a plan for transitioning the work, so that an intern felt the need to take the initiative to make such a plan.

Evidentiary support for your position:
1. You know how to hire people to make up for your weaknesses. But since you don't see those weaknesses, you can't be intentionally hiring competent people to compensate for them, so this is probably just luck.
2. You know how to depend on your luck.