The last time I was in an all out hunt for a full-time job, it took 4 months. And I got the job that I held for the last 5 and a half years. Which let's be honest . . . I've said some vague things about, and my readers have gotten the impression I didn't like much. A lot of my readers know me personally, and have for awhile, so that's not a pure view. A lot of them knew, outside of evidence in this blog, I was unsure this was a good job for me, and had been for some time.
I wasn't thrilled with some of the things I had been asked to do, but I still felt I was doing something worthwhile. I put it this way to one friend," I didn't hate what I was doing, but I was unhappy with some of the situations doing it had put me in." In this blog what I said specifically was something along the lines of realizing I had probably outgrown the job. What I said less than specifically was that I had concerns about the lifestyle the expectations of the job was creating. and how I passively accepted things like not eating dinner until 9pm or working out at 10pm.
But it wasn't always like that, and even when it was, I learned a lot from that job. While not all of my almost 6 years in that job were contented ones, there were happy years, and times I felt very fulfilled by what I was doing. And even if that weren't as true as it is, that job was still a decent place to start my career after leaving grad school.
So, finding myself suddenly without that job means an all out search for the next step in my career. And not just an online search, but a networking search. And not just a job search, but some real soul searching in terms of what I most want out of my next job.
One of the things I really want is a job that I'm in for longer than 5 years. I want some stability. Which isn't to say I want to do the same job, day-in and day-out for 10 years. But I would adore being hired somewhere here that wanted to keep me, challenge me, and advance me for awhile.
That being said, if it took me 4 months to find the job that lasted me for almost 6 years (and kept me happy and challenged in a good way for about 3 of those) I probably need at least half again that time to find the job that will do me one better. Six months sounds like a reasonable time frame. That seems logical. And yet, some part of me never truly pictured myself entering my 4th week of unemployment. I didn't paint that illustration in my head when I was spinning the story of my job search.
Which is really silly. I can't expect what happened as the result of 4 months of searching to happen in 3 weeks now. And I certainly can't expect a BETTER job to come of 3 weeks of searching.
The problem is, I don't have 6 months, or 8 months, or 4 months, or whatever the reasonable time frame would be. I have maybe another 2 months before things get so difficult that I would lose the ability to make them better by moving in to someone's basement (or, really, the guest room that is waiting graciously for me on the East Coast). I need to believe that because I know more now about job hunting, and because I am working really hard to accept help and support that I can get this job done faster than the 4 months it took me in spring of 2006.
I need to believe that then, I was still teaching as a full-time grad student, and thus, job hunting only about 5-10 hours a week. I need to believe I'm working harder and smarter now. I need to believe that it matters that I have a stronger personal and professional network now. I really need to believe that the fact that it's been 3 weeks, and I've had 3 interviews in that time is a reason to think that in another 3 weeks, or another 6 weeks, I'll have the RIGHT interview for the RIGHT position and get a job! Those are the things I very much need to cling to today.
It's nice to hear from friends that I am smart, savvy, capable, and will "be all right," or, "will definitely get something." It's even nicer to hear from a recruiter that "qualified applicants like you don't stay on the market for long." But what would be best of all to hear is, "You're hired (with amazing benefits)!"
But I also know this is a numbers game. And the numbers on the clock may be working against me in terms of racking up the number of jobs searched and applied for in time. I don't think this is the time to panic, but I am looking at my 3 weeks in and trying to get a clearer picture of the next 3 weeks.
It's hard to tell this from this post, maybe, but I'm not depressed today. (you can tell because the dishes and laundry are done, I'm out of my pajamas, my condo is uber-clean and I'm making a to-do list that I am excited about. Ok. So you can't tell by that, but I can) Today I have 3 offers of part time work on the table. Today I have a possible calls back from 2 different project coordinator positions, which, while not perfect fits, would mean I could keep a roof over my head for some time. Today I have a bunch of other jobs to apply to that could be perfect fits. So, today I'm optimistic. But I am also trying to frame that optimism in realism as well. Because that, as much as the bank account, will keep me going for the next 3 weeks.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Friday means nothing to the Unemployed
I was at home working on some cover letters and applications yesterday afternoon, and I idly checked Facebook. You know, like ya'do.
I saw four posts from people proclaiming their gratitude for it being Friday. "Friday, where have you been all week, I've missed you." "Going home to my baby, and glad it's Friday," and "Woo hoo, it's Friday!" And it occurred to me . . . Friday means very little to the unemployed.
Now, it so happens, I had a wonderful, healthy dinner out with my wickedly funny and totally brill friend last night, but that could have happened any night for me. Friday is just another day.
Right now, my weeks are like this:
Sunday - workout with my trainer, and try to catch up on some housework or cooking
Monday - another day of job hunting, and possibly some extra cardio
Tuesday - another day of job hunting, cardio, and NOT going to sing (I dropped choir during this season of fearful money)
Wednesday - another day of job hunting, cardio and resistance work out
Thursday - another day of job hunting, cardio and maybe some laundry
Friday - another day of job hunting, cardio, and resistance, pack gym bag for swimming
Saturday - treadmill, swimming, and church
As savvy readers, I'm sure you'll see the pattern here. I job hunt, and punish myself on a treadmill or bike (and occasionally I add some rowing or stairmaster in there too). I sweat out some cardio and I job hunt. I search for jobs, and I log cardio hours. Did I mention the time spent applying for work and the time spent raising my heart rate?
I've decided I need to add some variety in there. What can be said of my last job, regardless of liking it or not liking it, is that I was never doing the same thing repetitively. Every day was different. If I was in the office two days in a row, the tasks didn't match. And certainly, when on the road, what I was doing changed significantly depending on who I was working with that day. So, doing the same thing day-in and day-out is not a habit I'm in.
It becomes clear to me how the unemployed get into a rut of sitting around in their ratty sweatshirt, parked on the couch, steeped in depression. It's hard work to not be working, ironically. This is the hardest thing I've done, and this is speaking as someone who received two master's degrees, one while being emotionally abused by her adviser, trained for and earned a black belt, took and passed Calc 3, and was dumped by her fiance days after her father's death. This is hard.
It's hard to make myself reach out to friends, and hard to remind myself this isn't my fault. It's difficult to make this my full-time gig, and not be depressed. I'm working out a lot of stress on the treadmill, but not keeping despair at bay. Which isn't to say I'm sad and miserable all the time. I'm not. I swing from being wildly hopeful and thinking, "Yes. What an opportunity to find a job that really makes me happy and excited!" But when the pendulum swings back, I realize, "I don't get to blow off steam on Friday because I didn't work hard this week. I'm single, unemployed, and in my mid-thirties. How did I get here?"
Cardio isn't enough. I need to get out of the house. I need to do things that make me feel like I'm still a capable, confident adult that DOES things. Dinner out was excellent last night because I got to have interesting conversation and feel smart. Being alone in my house is a recipe for forgetting I am a person with ideas, vocabulary, and accomplishments.
For all of these reasons, I am contemplating two measures. One, budgeting $5-10 a week to sit at Starbucks or the like while job hunting-and-applying so that I'm not at home and have to wear a bra and something other than my ratty sweatshirt. Two, getting very serious about a schedule of part time work so that I am not consumed by what feels like the very real threat of never being useful to society again.
I saw four posts from people proclaiming their gratitude for it being Friday. "Friday, where have you been all week, I've missed you." "Going home to my baby, and glad it's Friday," and "Woo hoo, it's Friday!" And it occurred to me . . . Friday means very little to the unemployed.
Now, it so happens, I had a wonderful, healthy dinner out with my wickedly funny and totally brill friend last night, but that could have happened any night for me. Friday is just another day.
Right now, my weeks are like this:
Sunday - workout with my trainer, and try to catch up on some housework or cooking
Monday - another day of job hunting, and possibly some extra cardio
Tuesday - another day of job hunting, cardio, and NOT going to sing (I dropped choir during this season of fearful money)
Wednesday - another day of job hunting, cardio and resistance work out
Thursday - another day of job hunting, cardio and maybe some laundry
Friday - another day of job hunting, cardio, and resistance, pack gym bag for swimming
Saturday - treadmill, swimming, and church
As savvy readers, I'm sure you'll see the pattern here. I job hunt, and punish myself on a treadmill or bike (and occasionally I add some rowing or stairmaster in there too). I sweat out some cardio and I job hunt. I search for jobs, and I log cardio hours. Did I mention the time spent applying for work and the time spent raising my heart rate?
I've decided I need to add some variety in there. What can be said of my last job, regardless of liking it or not liking it, is that I was never doing the same thing repetitively. Every day was different. If I was in the office two days in a row, the tasks didn't match. And certainly, when on the road, what I was doing changed significantly depending on who I was working with that day. So, doing the same thing day-in and day-out is not a habit I'm in.
It becomes clear to me how the unemployed get into a rut of sitting around in their ratty sweatshirt, parked on the couch, steeped in depression. It's hard work to not be working, ironically. This is the hardest thing I've done, and this is speaking as someone who received two master's degrees, one while being emotionally abused by her adviser, trained for and earned a black belt, took and passed Calc 3, and was dumped by her fiance days after her father's death. This is hard.
It's hard to make myself reach out to friends, and hard to remind myself this isn't my fault. It's difficult to make this my full-time gig, and not be depressed. I'm working out a lot of stress on the treadmill, but not keeping despair at bay. Which isn't to say I'm sad and miserable all the time. I'm not. I swing from being wildly hopeful and thinking, "Yes. What an opportunity to find a job that really makes me happy and excited!" But when the pendulum swings back, I realize, "I don't get to blow off steam on Friday because I didn't work hard this week. I'm single, unemployed, and in my mid-thirties. How did I get here?"
Cardio isn't enough. I need to get out of the house. I need to do things that make me feel like I'm still a capable, confident adult that DOES things. Dinner out was excellent last night because I got to have interesting conversation and feel smart. Being alone in my house is a recipe for forgetting I am a person with ideas, vocabulary, and accomplishments.
For all of these reasons, I am contemplating two measures. One, budgeting $5-10 a week to sit at Starbucks or the like while job hunting-and-applying so that I'm not at home and have to wear a bra and something other than my ratty sweatshirt. Two, getting very serious about a schedule of part time work so that I am not consumed by what feels like the very real threat of never being useful to society again.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Do you want to . . .
"Do you want to do some bike and stair master on Monday?"
NO!!
Ok, people, lets go over this again. I don't like cardio. I really don't. Here are some things I do like:
So, ok, there are some forms of cardio on that list. I love to take a nice walk. Swimming calms me down and makes me feel both adrenalized and calm at the same time. And I've gotten exercise I haven't loathed while I was sweating. I used to climb with my bestest friend in NJ and, dudes, I sucked at it. But I loved it. I had no natural ability for karate, but an hour of working up a sweat at the dojo was more fun than beers with my friends, and so I often gave up going out with friends in favor of a class. I've been in some excellent games of capture the flag and soccer that I loved, win or lose. (Though I'm quick to tell you all, at age 21, playing a serious, all out game of capture the flag across my college campus, I brought home the opposing team's flag, with three of their players hot in pursuit. I ran THROUGH the dorm that had bathrooms as connectors between the halls, and changed floors from first, to second to third several times. No, I'm not competitive at all. I haven't any idea what you're talking about!)
But, cardio, for cardio's sake - naaaahhhhhh. I don't wanna. Nope. I do not want to meet you on the stairmaster. But I will. (Siiiiggggh)
Because here is something else I don't want. I don't want to sit at home, watching 6 hours of the Intervention marathon. I don't want to spend 3 days in a row in my pajamas, unshowered. I don't want to be here, each week, when my local Jehova Witnesses come on their regular visits. I don't want to lie in bed for three hours reading, and staring at the ceiling, and avoiding the frightening things about my current reality. I don't want to steep myself in activities that make it easy for me to slip into depression. I don't want to dwell on the negative.
I'd hate it more if I became a depressed shut-in trolling the web for job opportunities and cutting and pasting cover letters. So, I get on the treadmill. And I meet my friend and bike, and stairmaster (brutal!) on my appointed day-off from exercise. Sweating is better than crying. That's all there is to it. And being with people is better than being alone, even if it's a brutal 45 minutes on a bike and a stairmaster that make me want to hurl. Ugh.
NO!!
Ok, people, lets go over this again. I don't like cardio. I really don't. Here are some things I do like:
- Sleeping 8 hours a night
- Watching the Colbert Report
- Learning from other people
- Fresh fruit
- Game nights
- Game nights with nachos and my friend Mary's divine popcorn
- Brunch
- Growing my own basil
- Teaching
- Babies. More specifically, watching babies becoming toddlers and learn awesome things.
- Swimming
- Writing
- Photography
- Giving someone a gift that makes their face light up
- Hearing people's stories
- Cooking
- Really amazing pizza
- Cupcakes
- Shakespeare
- Organization
- Respect, trust, integrity, inspiration
- Sports movies, end of the world movies, and movies based on true stories
- Working hard at something and getting it right
- Walking
- The ocean
- Sunsets over the mountains
- Pedicures
- Having friends from different corners of my life meet and like each other
- Music - listening, dancing to it, and making it
- Spending a day with some really good lemonade and a book I can't put down
- Laughing until my ribs hurt
- Fried pickles
So, ok, there are some forms of cardio on that list. I love to take a nice walk. Swimming calms me down and makes me feel both adrenalized and calm at the same time. And I've gotten exercise I haven't loathed while I was sweating. I used to climb with my bestest friend in NJ and, dudes, I sucked at it. But I loved it. I had no natural ability for karate, but an hour of working up a sweat at the dojo was more fun than beers with my friends, and so I often gave up going out with friends in favor of a class. I've been in some excellent games of capture the flag and soccer that I loved, win or lose. (Though I'm quick to tell you all, at age 21, playing a serious, all out game of capture the flag across my college campus, I brought home the opposing team's flag, with three of their players hot in pursuit. I ran THROUGH the dorm that had bathrooms as connectors between the halls, and changed floors from first, to second to third several times. No, I'm not competitive at all. I haven't any idea what you're talking about!)
But, cardio, for cardio's sake - naaaahhhhhh. I don't wanna. Nope. I do not want to meet you on the stairmaster. But I will. (Siiiiggggh)
Because here is something else I don't want. I don't want to sit at home, watching 6 hours of the Intervention marathon. I don't want to spend 3 days in a row in my pajamas, unshowered. I don't want to be here, each week, when my local Jehova Witnesses come on their regular visits. I don't want to lie in bed for three hours reading, and staring at the ceiling, and avoiding the frightening things about my current reality. I don't want to steep myself in activities that make it easy for me to slip into depression. I don't want to dwell on the negative.
I'd hate it more if I became a depressed shut-in trolling the web for job opportunities and cutting and pasting cover letters. So, I get on the treadmill. And I meet my friend and bike, and stairmaster (brutal!) on my appointed day-off from exercise. Sweating is better than crying. That's all there is to it. And being with people is better than being alone, even if it's a brutal 45 minutes on a bike and a stairmaster that make me want to hurl. Ugh.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Three lunches and a training session
Letting people help me is one of the most difficult and most healing experiences of my life.
Let me preface this by saying, I don't want to accept help. I don't want to need help. I hate help.
Which is all really ironic and hypocritical since I love, love, love helping others! Since graduating I have given to charities that matter to me, I have volunteered at nursing homes, educational programs, with young children, and registering voters. I still volunteer monthly with a program I believe deeply in.
There's no way to do this without sounding like I'm so awesome and I know it, but I used to donate more hours than I was required to students. I am always available to my friends who need editing done on essays, letters, or the like. I have written more reference letters than I can count, and used to be everybody's favorite person to help them move. I've carried a lot of couches. I have helped people learn a new skill, helped with homework, and babysat for free.
It makes me happy to be someone's ride, to cook someone dinner, or to buy a friend a drink. It is my pleasure. But more than the things I give what makes me most satisfied are the times a friend needed to talk, needed someone to listen, or needed help with something intangible. I like giving.
I tend to agree with my friend Eric, that no giving is completely altruistic. My experience has always been that when I can look at my day and point to something worthwhile I did (you know, point to it to myself. Not to others. That really would be bragging!) my day feels more rewarding. I give because doing it feels good.
This was never more evident than the day before I moved to Colorado. I had insisted we find a shelter or food bank to give my unused pantry food to. When I found one, I looked at their list of most needed items and saw they also wanted soap, shampoo, and other toiletries to offer their guests the ability to shower. Well, lo, I had a shopping bag full of travel sized toiletries from all my business trips. So I packed those up along with my bags of rice and canned goods. We had to stop what we were doing in the middle of packing and loading and drive a town over to make the delivery, and parking was not ideal. We had the wrong address. It took a hour to make this simple donation. But when we arrived someone dutifully took our grocery bags, but then we had to come inside to make the toiletries drop. The kid who took that donation went RUNNING to the back office, shouting, "Look! Look! How many showers can we offer with this?!"
I was tired, and sweaty, and had been feeling kind of over-cooked with the moving process. I had fielded three really difficult good-bye meals, and one crying friend (who never, ever cries) breaking down in my kitchen. I was DONE. Stick a fork in me. But that 30 seconds of seeing the glee someone else had to be able to provide for those who had less, to know I played a role in it - that hour kept me going for the additional 12 hours it took to finish loading the moving truck that day.
People feel good when they can do the right thing. People feel confident and happy when they can help. People like to know they did something meaningful, supportive, and contributed to the greater good. There's something to being able to pay it forward. And as my mom says, water seeks its own level. So, I should assume that when people offer me their hands and help openly, it is because they love me and it makes them feel good. I know it can be that way, but often the reaction I have first is warriness.
Although I went out into the world feeling more alone than I was ready for, I. Did. It. How? Ummm, I had help. I had people I could lean on. I talk a good game about being so independent, but you know, it wasn't like I sold a kidney and then took care of myself. I had mentors. I had a family friend who loaned me money. I had friends who read my papers and helped me complete them (granted, this was part of my college's plan - we had to form committees of readers to pass our papers and take us through several drafts. And students who had already "passed" that area could be readers). I had people who hooked me up with a myriad of part time jobs so I could pay the college the sums that no 18 year-olds knows how to come up with and stay registered. I wasn't all on my own.
And that community was such that I could see exactly how to pay that forward. I helped other students get their papers read and passed. I helped students get their portfolios together. I did community service aimed at supporting students. And when I graduated and was working on campus and some student housing burned down, I offered up my extra bedrooms.
So, where did that feeling of "full circle" go? I left that close knit community and small campus and life went fast, and all of a sudden, here I am, nearly 13 years later, stymied by this situation. For a couple of weeks after my lay-off, I was fixated on a conversation I had had at a friends' house in NJ in May. One of them had quit her job the very week I was there. She and her wonderful wife had decided her happiness was more important than another couple of months of salary. And we were talking about my job and I said, "if there was another income in my house, I would have quit already."
And so, when the position was eliminated, all I could think is, "what does a woman with no other income in her house DO in this situation. I'm all alone."
What a ridiculous liar I am sometimes. I was never alone. Within a couple of days, I had people asking if they could be my reference. I've been offered the opportunity to consider a couple of different kinds of part time work. Friends have called to check on me. People who I haven't talked to in over a year have asked to pass along my resume to those they know. And not one, not two, but three people took me to lunch this week.
I had four amazing years of community support and the ability to give and receive help in college, and then 13 years of painfully unlearning that. And the horrible lesson I learned was, "don't trust people who want to give you something. You will be let down. There will be strings attached. It will get messy. You don't deserve anything offered. Keep your guard up." But this week, I had three lunches, and a training session that countered that.
So, the door I had slammed to all of that began to open. I told myself stories like, "well, I took her to a movie once when she was broke," and "I was invited to dinner and said I was going to bring 2 things, but then brought 6 things," or " I help her with something hard for her, and fun for me, every week." and then I shoved that kind of ledger-thinking away and said, "I want to see and talk to this person. I want to keep being positive. I want to keep depression at bay, and not find myself curled up on the couch crippled by the enormity of this story. So. GO. Go out to lunch. Enjoy the time with this person."
Those moments were hard for me. Not because of my friends. My friends are not only wonderful, loving supportive people, but people with the grace to make those lunches about wanting to spend time with me and celebrate my release from bondage. I never felt like I was their charity.
Those moments were hard for me because of my foolish pride, and this false idea that I have that I'm an island. Somehow, in my mind, there are terrible consequences to building bridges off that island. Or letting anyone defy my bridge-less-ness by bringing their boat over and saying, "Hey, I notice you have lots of coconuts here, but wouldn't they go well with rum? And hey, I know how to mix that drink! Wanna have some with me?"
Those drinks healed me. In lots of ways! I literally did have a boozy lunch with one of those friends. and it was simply delicious to talk everything over with her. And while it was water and salads at the other lunches, the conversation and things those women bravely shared with me reminded me that it's a bad goal to try and be an island. My friend, the same one who cried when I left Jersey, the same one who supported her partner in leaving an unhappy job, wanted to NOT have a baby shower. She didn't want a fuss, or silly games. I understood that. But I pressed her and said, "It's not just to get gifts It's because there are a community of people who want to celebrate this with you. those aren't just your fans, but your baby's fans and the people who will be there for you when you need support and love and someone to talk to as a parent."
So, she had a shower. And I was PSYCHED to send a gift. But guess what? All of those people also lined up after the delivery just waiting to give love to them and their baby girl. Love is for giving away.
It begins to heal the bad lessons I learned over the last 13 years to know that people are offering their support and help because they believe in me and think I am a good bet to put what they're offering to use in a positive way. And so, today, I took the next leap and accepted an even bigger gift at my training appointment. It is one that will make me very cognizant of being accountable in this process. With this gift in my hand, I can't just work out, or eat right, or search for a job as isolated tasks. I have no choice but to see this as a process of finding the life that allows me to keep those things in balance; whatever the job ends up being.
So, thank you all. And keep me honest about accepting help and support.
Let me preface this by saying, I don't want to accept help. I don't want to need help. I hate help.
Which is all really ironic and hypocritical since I love, love, love helping others! Since graduating I have given to charities that matter to me, I have volunteered at nursing homes, educational programs, with young children, and registering voters. I still volunteer monthly with a program I believe deeply in.
There's no way to do this without sounding like I'm so awesome and I know it, but I used to donate more hours than I was required to students. I am always available to my friends who need editing done on essays, letters, or the like. I have written more reference letters than I can count, and used to be everybody's favorite person to help them move. I've carried a lot of couches. I have helped people learn a new skill, helped with homework, and babysat for free.
It makes me happy to be someone's ride, to cook someone dinner, or to buy a friend a drink. It is my pleasure. But more than the things I give what makes me most satisfied are the times a friend needed to talk, needed someone to listen, or needed help with something intangible. I like giving.
I tend to agree with my friend Eric, that no giving is completely altruistic. My experience has always been that when I can look at my day and point to something worthwhile I did (you know, point to it to myself. Not to others. That really would be bragging!) my day feels more rewarding. I give because doing it feels good.
This was never more evident than the day before I moved to Colorado. I had insisted we find a shelter or food bank to give my unused pantry food to. When I found one, I looked at their list of most needed items and saw they also wanted soap, shampoo, and other toiletries to offer their guests the ability to shower. Well, lo, I had a shopping bag full of travel sized toiletries from all my business trips. So I packed those up along with my bags of rice and canned goods. We had to stop what we were doing in the middle of packing and loading and drive a town over to make the delivery, and parking was not ideal. We had the wrong address. It took a hour to make this simple donation. But when we arrived someone dutifully took our grocery bags, but then we had to come inside to make the toiletries drop. The kid who took that donation went RUNNING to the back office, shouting, "Look! Look! How many showers can we offer with this?!"
I was tired, and sweaty, and had been feeling kind of over-cooked with the moving process. I had fielded three really difficult good-bye meals, and one crying friend (who never, ever cries) breaking down in my kitchen. I was DONE. Stick a fork in me. But that 30 seconds of seeing the glee someone else had to be able to provide for those who had less, to know I played a role in it - that hour kept me going for the additional 12 hours it took to finish loading the moving truck that day.
People feel good when they can do the right thing. People feel confident and happy when they can help. People like to know they did something meaningful, supportive, and contributed to the greater good. There's something to being able to pay it forward. And as my mom says, water seeks its own level. So, I should assume that when people offer me their hands and help openly, it is because they love me and it makes them feel good. I know it can be that way, but often the reaction I have first is warriness.
Although I went out into the world feeling more alone than I was ready for, I. Did. It. How? Ummm, I had help. I had people I could lean on. I talk a good game about being so independent, but you know, it wasn't like I sold a kidney and then took care of myself. I had mentors. I had a family friend who loaned me money. I had friends who read my papers and helped me complete them (granted, this was part of my college's plan - we had to form committees of readers to pass our papers and take us through several drafts. And students who had already "passed" that area could be readers). I had people who hooked me up with a myriad of part time jobs so I could pay the college the sums that no 18 year-olds knows how to come up with and stay registered. I wasn't all on my own.
And that community was such that I could see exactly how to pay that forward. I helped other students get their papers read and passed. I helped students get their portfolios together. I did community service aimed at supporting students. And when I graduated and was working on campus and some student housing burned down, I offered up my extra bedrooms.
So, where did that feeling of "full circle" go? I left that close knit community and small campus and life went fast, and all of a sudden, here I am, nearly 13 years later, stymied by this situation. For a couple of weeks after my lay-off, I was fixated on a conversation I had had at a friends' house in NJ in May. One of them had quit her job the very week I was there. She and her wonderful wife had decided her happiness was more important than another couple of months of salary. And we were talking about my job and I said, "if there was another income in my house, I would have quit already."
And so, when the position was eliminated, all I could think is, "what does a woman with no other income in her house DO in this situation. I'm all alone."
What a ridiculous liar I am sometimes. I was never alone. Within a couple of days, I had people asking if they could be my reference. I've been offered the opportunity to consider a couple of different kinds of part time work. Friends have called to check on me. People who I haven't talked to in over a year have asked to pass along my resume to those they know. And not one, not two, but three people took me to lunch this week.
I had four amazing years of community support and the ability to give and receive help in college, and then 13 years of painfully unlearning that. And the horrible lesson I learned was, "don't trust people who want to give you something. You will be let down. There will be strings attached. It will get messy. You don't deserve anything offered. Keep your guard up." But this week, I had three lunches, and a training session that countered that.
So, the door I had slammed to all of that began to open. I told myself stories like, "well, I took her to a movie once when she was broke," and "I was invited to dinner and said I was going to bring 2 things, but then brought 6 things," or " I help her with something hard for her, and fun for me, every week." and then I shoved that kind of ledger-thinking away and said, "I want to see and talk to this person. I want to keep being positive. I want to keep depression at bay, and not find myself curled up on the couch crippled by the enormity of this story. So. GO. Go out to lunch. Enjoy the time with this person."
Those moments were hard for me. Not because of my friends. My friends are not only wonderful, loving supportive people, but people with the grace to make those lunches about wanting to spend time with me and celebrate my release from bondage. I never felt like I was their charity.
Those moments were hard for me because of my foolish pride, and this false idea that I have that I'm an island. Somehow, in my mind, there are terrible consequences to building bridges off that island. Or letting anyone defy my bridge-less-ness by bringing their boat over and saying, "Hey, I notice you have lots of coconuts here, but wouldn't they go well with rum? And hey, I know how to mix that drink! Wanna have some with me?"
Those drinks healed me. In lots of ways! I literally did have a boozy lunch with one of those friends. and it was simply delicious to talk everything over with her. And while it was water and salads at the other lunches, the conversation and things those women bravely shared with me reminded me that it's a bad goal to try and be an island. My friend, the same one who cried when I left Jersey, the same one who supported her partner in leaving an unhappy job, wanted to NOT have a baby shower. She didn't want a fuss, or silly games. I understood that. But I pressed her and said, "It's not just to get gifts It's because there are a community of people who want to celebrate this with you. those aren't just your fans, but your baby's fans and the people who will be there for you when you need support and love and someone to talk to as a parent."
So, she had a shower. And I was PSYCHED to send a gift. But guess what? All of those people also lined up after the delivery just waiting to give love to them and their baby girl. Love is for giving away.
It begins to heal the bad lessons I learned over the last 13 years to know that people are offering their support and help because they believe in me and think I am a good bet to put what they're offering to use in a positive way. And so, today, I took the next leap and accepted an even bigger gift at my training appointment. It is one that will make me very cognizant of being accountable in this process. With this gift in my hand, I can't just work out, or eat right, or search for a job as isolated tasks. I have no choice but to see this as a process of finding the life that allows me to keep those things in balance; whatever the job ends up being.
So, thank you all. And keep me honest about accepting help and support.
Monday, January 9, 2012
who has two thumbs and renewed optimism?
This chic right here - of the four serious jobs I've applied to, two have responded within 48 hours, and one called and asked me for an interview :)
"It will be ok"
Somehow I managed to convince myself that I was ok with all of this through Christmas. And then my mom left, and my act dropped (hard). I put my best face on when I flew to Boston, but in that week there were countless conversations about my severance agreement, COBRA insurance, and finally, at what point the money will run out and I will have to leave Colorado (and move in with them). Reality became very real that week. And this last topic settled over me like an Eeyore cloud. I can joke all the day long about moving into someone's basement, but the reality is, I might not be able to make it through this on my own.
Scratch that. I already can't do this on my own. I needed help to understand my severance. I needed help from not one, but two different friends to polish my resume and cover letter. I needed a ride to and from the airport and I need almost daily reminders to stay positive and see my lay off as an opportunity. A chance to find my way to a better me.
But, the thing is, it's painful for me even to ask for those kinds of help.
I have lived life, for too long probably, as my own unit. I take care of me. And although there have been wonderful examples of people doing amazing things for me (some that they don't even know!) there have been some very memorable pieces of evidence that when I let someone in and start to count on them, they let me down. So taking care of myself, as much as possible, has seemed like the best policy for most of my life. This has been true for me, financially, for half of my life but has been true in other ways for longer than that. I left home more completely than most do when I left for school. And I also took the responsibility for the financial burden of that education at that time. So I count that as the moment of my independence. But the truth is that before that, I had been on my own in other ways. I had more financial responsibility than my peers, if not total financial independence. And I had other responsibilities too. I often found myself in conversations with adults where it became clear I was the grown up in the exchange, and I had had to be much more emotionally self-sufficient than I want my future, hypothetical children to have to be. I wasn't unloved, or uncared for, but some of the resources available to me were impoverished.
In much the same way that working too much to pay some of my bills in high school paved the way for me to know how to work four part time jobs in college at any given time, not having the ability to get what I needed at home paved the way for me to make families of the other people in my life. This the the blessing that was disguised in my first home and it's discontent - it taught me to get my needs met elsewhere. In high school I was part of a very tight group of five friends. We shared everything with each other, and looked after each other in deeper ways than most teenagers do. And these many years later, I am in touch with all of them, and one of them is the family member I visited in Boston. The very same one who initiated a conversation about me moving in if it comes to me not being able to make it on my own. Stick a pin in that - we'll be back to it.
This was the beginning of a long trend for me. Pretty much everywhere I go, I find myself joining other people's families or making ad hoc ones of my own. I have not one but two non-biological families in New Jersey, which was a place I did everything I could to reject on the cellular level for a full quarter of the time I was there! I went through a terrible break-up with my fiance after moving here to Colorado, but found that his best friends of more than two decades were more than happy to keep me in their family, even as he refused their overtures of support. I have family in NY, Texas, Seattle, Virginia, Illinois, Florida, Oklahoma, Connecticut, and Maine. And I have friends here in Colorado that are reaching out in ways that tell me that if I'm not yet in their family circles, they certainly think I'm worthy of their time and care.
I shouldn't be surprised that people want to offer their help, but I am. And I'm not only humbled by it, I'm . . . embarrassed to need to even talk about accepting it, much less actually take someone up on it. It makes my skin prickle to ask for a ride to the airport. It makes my insides ache to ask someone to help me tune up a cover letter. So what wound will come of needing financial help?
But the truth is, there is a very finite window, dictated almost entirely by the amount of my severance, that allows me to continue to be financially independent while job hunting.
Having to borrow money or move in with someone seems to me like the very worst thing that could ever, ever come of this. But it's a little silly to realize that I have helped other people in this way. (I had someone I didn't even know all that well living with me for a month while he found his feet in the summer of 2009. and another person was given a place to stay for three weeks later that year.) And I would do it for any of my family members (where family is a broad term for me) in a heartbeat - something my friends and family have hastily reminded me for every form of help that has been offered. My first instinct is to reject people's offers of help. My second instinct is to keep rejecting it. And my third instinct is to logically remind myself that it is my pleasure to help others, especially my friends and family, and that denying their offers is a way of being selfish. I had this conversation with my ex so many times, and in so many ways that even I am tired of hearing myself on this subject. How many ways are there to say, "People weren't meant to do everything on their own?" or "Doing it on your own isn't working." or "You push people away and hurt them when you won't let them help."
Well, there are at least 6 months worth of different ways to communicate this message because that's how long he and I have been having this conversation. So, there was a cruel symmetry when he, last week, pointed out that maybe the lesson I need to learn from this is to accept help and let people hold me up.
I wanted to slap him (just a little), but really, what I wanted was to stop myself from having to hear or face up to those words. He didn't say it unkindly. And he's not wrong. I just don't want this to be true. And it had been resounding in my head since my bestest friends had set a date with me to draw a line of trying to make it on my own with the formula of:
waning severance/savings + part time work + unemployment = not making ends meet and no full time job in sight
That line was drawn at an alarmingly soon date and calculated on the basis of numbers. I'm hoping for a different outcome and aiming for it by a rigorous job search.
I've had a deal with whatever universal powers there are for 15 years now. It goes like this, "I know I was made in such a way that I can't take prescription pain killers. Fine by me. Clearly, with the substance abuse issues in my family history, this is a good thing for me. So, just don't give me pain I can't handle on my own. "
This deal has worked, surprisingly. It has worked with countless broken toes, and a broken foot. It worked with a car accident resulting in a hairline fracture of vertebrae in my neck. It worked when my impacted wisdom tooth was removed. It worked when I had sinus surgery reconstructing one quarter of the face underneath my face, and two knee surgeries and the injuries that precipitated them.
I feel so lucky to have had that work out so well. So, being who I am, I feel like it's WRONG to ask for more. But I'm trying to overcome my crippling sense of pride to ask for another deal. I want to send out the request that if I am willing to learn the lesson that I can't do everything on my own, and set aside my pride, and accept help people are offering (which, really, has been overwhelmingly awesome. Everything from part time work to sending me job postings to help with my resume and getting it into people's hands to reduced rates on services I was previously paying for. Not to mention several offers of, "come live with me!") could it just be possible for me to learn that lesson without being in such a financial hole that I have to leave the life I built here? Could it be possible for me to keep living on my own?
Deal? Ok, let's shake on it.
My Boston fam told me that inexplicably written on the calendar on a day this year was written, "It will be ok." I have that same phrase entered into my calendar on the day we chose to re-visit me moving in with them.
Scratch that. I already can't do this on my own. I needed help to understand my severance. I needed help from not one, but two different friends to polish my resume and cover letter. I needed a ride to and from the airport and I need almost daily reminders to stay positive and see my lay off as an opportunity. A chance to find my way to a better me.
But, the thing is, it's painful for me even to ask for those kinds of help.
I have lived life, for too long probably, as my own unit. I take care of me. And although there have been wonderful examples of people doing amazing things for me (some that they don't even know!) there have been some very memorable pieces of evidence that when I let someone in and start to count on them, they let me down. So taking care of myself, as much as possible, has seemed like the best policy for most of my life. This has been true for me, financially, for half of my life but has been true in other ways for longer than that. I left home more completely than most do when I left for school. And I also took the responsibility for the financial burden of that education at that time. So I count that as the moment of my independence. But the truth is that before that, I had been on my own in other ways. I had more financial responsibility than my peers, if not total financial independence. And I had other responsibilities too. I often found myself in conversations with adults where it became clear I was the grown up in the exchange, and I had had to be much more emotionally self-sufficient than I want my future, hypothetical children to have to be. I wasn't unloved, or uncared for, but some of the resources available to me were impoverished.
In much the same way that working too much to pay some of my bills in high school paved the way for me to know how to work four part time jobs in college at any given time, not having the ability to get what I needed at home paved the way for me to make families of the other people in my life. This the the blessing that was disguised in my first home and it's discontent - it taught me to get my needs met elsewhere. In high school I was part of a very tight group of five friends. We shared everything with each other, and looked after each other in deeper ways than most teenagers do. And these many years later, I am in touch with all of them, and one of them is the family member I visited in Boston. The very same one who initiated a conversation about me moving in if it comes to me not being able to make it on my own. Stick a pin in that - we'll be back to it.
This was the beginning of a long trend for me. Pretty much everywhere I go, I find myself joining other people's families or making ad hoc ones of my own. I have not one but two non-biological families in New Jersey, which was a place I did everything I could to reject on the cellular level for a full quarter of the time I was there! I went through a terrible break-up with my fiance after moving here to Colorado, but found that his best friends of more than two decades were more than happy to keep me in their family, even as he refused their overtures of support. I have family in NY, Texas, Seattle, Virginia, Illinois, Florida, Oklahoma, Connecticut, and Maine. And I have friends here in Colorado that are reaching out in ways that tell me that if I'm not yet in their family circles, they certainly think I'm worthy of their time and care.
I shouldn't be surprised that people want to offer their help, but I am. And I'm not only humbled by it, I'm . . . embarrassed to need to even talk about accepting it, much less actually take someone up on it. It makes my skin prickle to ask for a ride to the airport. It makes my insides ache to ask someone to help me tune up a cover letter. So what wound will come of needing financial help?
But the truth is, there is a very finite window, dictated almost entirely by the amount of my severance, that allows me to continue to be financially independent while job hunting.
Having to borrow money or move in with someone seems to me like the very worst thing that could ever, ever come of this. But it's a little silly to realize that I have helped other people in this way. (I had someone I didn't even know all that well living with me for a month while he found his feet in the summer of 2009. and another person was given a place to stay for three weeks later that year.) And I would do it for any of my family members (where family is a broad term for me) in a heartbeat - something my friends and family have hastily reminded me for every form of help that has been offered. My first instinct is to reject people's offers of help. My second instinct is to keep rejecting it. And my third instinct is to logically remind myself that it is my pleasure to help others, especially my friends and family, and that denying their offers is a way of being selfish. I had this conversation with my ex so many times, and in so many ways that even I am tired of hearing myself on this subject. How many ways are there to say, "People weren't meant to do everything on their own?" or "Doing it on your own isn't working." or "You push people away and hurt them when you won't let them help."
Well, there are at least 6 months worth of different ways to communicate this message because that's how long he and I have been having this conversation. So, there was a cruel symmetry when he, last week, pointed out that maybe the lesson I need to learn from this is to accept help and let people hold me up.
I wanted to slap him (just a little), but really, what I wanted was to stop myself from having to hear or face up to those words. He didn't say it unkindly. And he's not wrong. I just don't want this to be true. And it had been resounding in my head since my bestest friends had set a date with me to draw a line of trying to make it on my own with the formula of:
waning severance/savings + part time work + unemployment = not making ends meet and no full time job in sight
That line was drawn at an alarmingly soon date and calculated on the basis of numbers. I'm hoping for a different outcome and aiming for it by a rigorous job search.
I've had a deal with whatever universal powers there are for 15 years now. It goes like this, "I know I was made in such a way that I can't take prescription pain killers. Fine by me. Clearly, with the substance abuse issues in my family history, this is a good thing for me. So, just don't give me pain I can't handle on my own. "
This deal has worked, surprisingly. It has worked with countless broken toes, and a broken foot. It worked with a car accident resulting in a hairline fracture of vertebrae in my neck. It worked when my impacted wisdom tooth was removed. It worked when I had sinus surgery reconstructing one quarter of the face underneath my face, and two knee surgeries and the injuries that precipitated them.
I feel so lucky to have had that work out so well. So, being who I am, I feel like it's WRONG to ask for more. But I'm trying to overcome my crippling sense of pride to ask for another deal. I want to send out the request that if I am willing to learn the lesson that I can't do everything on my own, and set aside my pride, and accept help people are offering (which, really, has been overwhelmingly awesome. Everything from part time work to sending me job postings to help with my resume and getting it into people's hands to reduced rates on services I was previously paying for. Not to mention several offers of, "come live with me!") could it just be possible for me to learn that lesson without being in such a financial hole that I have to leave the life I built here? Could it be possible for me to keep living on my own?
Deal? Ok, let's shake on it.
My Boston fam told me that inexplicably written on the calendar on a day this year was written, "It will be ok." I have that same phrase entered into my calendar on the day we chose to re-visit me moving in with them.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
One kind of job I am looking for: Corporate Training/ Instructional Designer
Christie Veitch
Boulder, CO
ChristieAVeitch@gmail.com
ChristieAVeitch@gmail.com
q Objective: To design and deliver trainings for an organization that values creating exciting and beneficial professional development opportunities and seeks to positively impact its employees, clients, and community.
q Skills
o Developing and delivering individualized trainings, presentations, evaluation and communication tools
o Teaching/Mentoring in both group and individualized settings, students from ages three - adult
o Educational and Business consulting
o Understanding of cognitive and psychological learning models for children and adults
o Project management including thorough attention to details and goals, strong written and verbal communication, scheduling, and time management
q Education
2005 M.S. Rutgers University, Cognitive Psychology
Thesis: Adult processing of Get and Be in active and passive sentences
2004 M.A., Rutgers University, Linguistics
1999 B.A. Hampshire College
2005 M.S. Rutgers University, Cognitive Psychology
Thesis: Adult processing of Get and Be in active and passive sentences
2004 M.A., Rutgers University, Linguistics
1999 B.A. Hampshire College
Self designed concentration, “ Simplicity and structure: The study of Mathematics and Linguistics”
q Professional, Consulting and Business Experience
Kumon North America: Teaneck and Lawrenceville, NJ, and Boulder, CO. 2006 – 2011
Franchise Development Manager, Boulder, CO Fall 2010 - 2011 As the business and franchise consultant I administered all training in this region for Instructors/Franchisees and franchisee trainees, including: professional development presentations and hands-on trainings, individualized development plans, and assistance in all aspects of opening and growing their business including evaluation of their businesses, development and critique of business plans, site searches, and marketing plans. As a satellite office in Colorado, I operated this region, office, and managed all projects solo in addition to developing and providing all group and individual trainings.
Educational Field Consultant, 2006 – 2010. First in the NJ/PA field office and then running a remote region in Colorado, I operated as an educational consultant for Instructors/Franchisees in the Kumon method offering group and personalized professional development plans, presentations and tools, educational support to them in developing their lesson plans and student results, setting and achieving goals, and certification in the Kumon Method. This role required the delivery of professional development opportunities and tools, as well as assessment of needs and analysis of results and future needs. (Promoted to Franchise Development Manager)
Hampshire College Admissions Counselor, Amherst, MA. September 1999-August 2000. Reading, evaluating student applications, interviewing students, hosting and performing as the main speaker at information sessions to interested students and their families, college fairs and high school visits, planning and implementing Admissions events bringing together interested applicants, current students, and Hampshire college staff and faculty.
Kumon North America: Teaneck and Lawrenceville, NJ, and Boulder, CO. 2006 – 2011
Franchise Development Manager, Boulder, CO Fall 2010 - 2011 As the business and franchise consultant I administered all training in this region for Instructors/Franchisees and franchisee trainees, including: professional development presentations and hands-on trainings, individualized development plans, and assistance in all aspects of opening and growing their business including evaluation of their businesses, development and critique of business plans, site searches, and marketing plans. As a satellite office in Colorado, I operated this region, office, and managed all projects solo in addition to developing and providing all group and individual trainings.
Educational Field Consultant, 2006 – 2010. First in the NJ/PA field office and then running a remote region in Colorado, I operated as an educational consultant for Instructors/Franchisees in the Kumon method offering group and personalized professional development plans, presentations and tools, educational support to them in developing their lesson plans and student results, setting and achieving goals, and certification in the Kumon Method. This role required the delivery of professional development opportunities and tools, as well as assessment of needs and analysis of results and future needs. (Promoted to Franchise Development Manager)
Hampshire College Admissions Counselor, Amherst, MA. September 1999-August 2000. Reading, evaluating student applications, interviewing students, hosting and performing as the main speaker at information sessions to interested students and their families, college fairs and high school visits, planning and implementing Admissions events bringing together interested applicants, current students, and Hampshire college staff and faculty.
q Instructional, Teaching and Mentoring Experience
Greenhouse Scholars Mentor (Volunteer), September 2008-present. Mentoring high-risk college students receiving scholarship and other support from Greenhouse Scholars. Volunteering on several advisory boards and leading application/interview committees.
Instructor, Psychology Department, Rutgers University, 2001-2006. Sole instructor for Psychology of Language, an upper level Cognition and Psychology course and sole instructor for three different Psychology laboratory courses - hands-on, small group-setting lab course for Psychology undergraduates. Tasks included creating and delivering course content, grading, and meeting with students regarding individual assignments and course related projects.
Rutgers University Writing Program Tutor, 2004-2006. Working with students in required reading comprehension and expository writing courses to define and organize topics, questions, and supporting points for their compositions, setting weekly goals with students, reporting on student progress, and employing the "minimalist tutoring" protocol so that students received guidance without dependence on tutoring.
Greenhouse Scholars Mentor (Volunteer), September 2008-present. Mentoring high-risk college students receiving scholarship and other support from Greenhouse Scholars. Volunteering on several advisory boards and leading application/interview committees.
Instructor, Psychology Department, Rutgers University, 2001-2006. Sole instructor for Psychology of Language, an upper level Cognition and Psychology course and sole instructor for three different Psychology laboratory courses - hands-on, small group-setting lab course for Psychology undergraduates. Tasks included creating and delivering course content, grading, and meeting with students regarding individual assignments and course related projects.
Rutgers University Writing Program Tutor, 2004-2006. Working with students in required reading comprehension and expository writing courses to define and organize topics, questions, and supporting points for their compositions, setting weekly goals with students, reporting on student progress, and employing the "minimalist tutoring" protocol so that students received guidance without dependence on tutoring.
References: Available upon request
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