Sugared Over

Every book holds a memory of my past life, crawling under my skin without permission.  

After my layoff, I kept my personal library hidden in my home.  It has been too painful to be reminded of the love I had for my students, for my classroom, and for the privilege I had teaching at-risk students  the value of their voice, their thinking, and the importance of listening to others through various media.

I tore the cover off of a book in front of my class, handed out several others, and instructed them to do the same.  Some were confused, some were excited to desecrate school property.  Strangely enough, when I read to them from one of the books, the class actually listened.  At the completion of the excerpt, one of them asked if I was going to get in trouble for doing what I had to a "school book."

The reality was that the school had thrown the lot of the books out; a well-written piece of literature was about to be passed up, simply because the cover sucked.  I encouraged my students to create their own covers, to tell their own stories; to be original because their opinion was valued.  

Unfortunately, a style of teaching that was encouraged under one administration, became taboo under the next.  Government standard requirements trickled into our community, and the structure of free-thinking was only allowed within certain parameters.

Rather than stay in school, at-risk students are becoming obsolete; programs and support systems not supported by the state are being let go, and the drop-out rate increased.  Crisis counselors are being removed.  Schools are throwing the lot of them out, just as my school had with the bad-cover books.

This pattern is not specific to any one school.  The system has changed.  What started with, "No Child Left Behind," became a series of tests, eliminating the bottom of the barrel by rewarding schools financially when high scores superseded the whole.  

A structure that provides financial gain based on high-scores causes administrative nepotism.  Those who don't follow suit are let go, and those who don't agree stay quiet in fear of losing their job and marring their reputation.  

Even after being let go, I have within me a huge fear of speaking out; a fear that big brother is watching, that I will be exposed as a bug, and that hiding in a house surrounded by rumors allows my voice to appear only in the crook of a tree, with the hope that Atticus will share my voice before my faith in public education sags like a heavy load.

I worked my entire life toward teaching children how to communicate through various media.  I am ashamed that I allowed my own voice to be temporarily silenced for something as stagnant as a layoff.  

There needs to be a change in how we teach our children if we are to move forward in our lifetime. We claim to value diversity, yet streamline curriculum.  We argue different learning styles yet mandate multiple choice assessment.  

There are so many wonderful minds out there teaching effectively and thoroughly, magnificent teachers and administrators doing right with our children.  Rather than condone mandated testing that values one intelligence form over another, we need argue for more diverse assessments if they are to accurately reflect our students.

Acceptance? I Don't Think So

The economy is under durress.  Job-loss is inevitable.  If you devoted your life to a career you loved, one that made you happy, it is not unheard of to grieve in a layoff situation.  The five stages of grief translate easily to the resulting emotional dejection.  Those stages begin with denial and isolation, then proceed to anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. 

I believe that although you pass through these stages, there is a consistent gravitation to feel all of the stages at once, like a spinning record designed to make you insane with doubt, until confidence is shattered.  Even when responsibility is accepted, anger will likely linger, especially if the job situation ended unfairly in any way.

The fact that there are fewer and fewer jobs available doesn't exactly make it easy to move forward, and although there is plenty to to accept as a result of the layoff, there is no need to accept the idea that you are no longer a valuable asset. 

 

 

It seems the list omitted the step happens in place of acceptance, when you decide to take matters into your own hands and make things happen yourself rather than accept the path laid out for you.

                                                 

This replacement step isn't easy.  You have to put aside the notions of who you were and make room for who you will become, beginning with who you are.  What are your values?  Your intrinsic needs?  Your passions?

 

It took me  almost a year suffering the despondency of grief, heightened by taking the worst possible jobs for my personality type.  I was sitting at one of these jobs, making less than I've ever earned, when I realized the freedom of financially bottoming out. 

 

I drafted business plans, made lists, took career quizzes, and paid attention to what I did that made me happy.  I looked up businesses that my talents could potentially fit into, put together a portfolio, and met business owners with confidence rather than desparation. 

 

I refuse to accept the underlying stipulations of a layoff.  My grief ends on my terms.  And in so many ways, it paid off.

Happiness and Hell

I was going to be a lawyer.  I knew it since I was in the single digits.  I worked my ass off to get into a great school, and did.  I traded the initiations associated with college life for the hard work necessary to get into a good law school, and could have; had I not realized something very important about myself.

 

I had a ton of odd jobs as an undergraduate.  Some were fun, some disasterous, but none so rewarding as teaching.  I fell in love.  Sharing what I knew to help others find voice in their writing made me happier than any other job I'd ever had... and I had some amazing experiences! 

 

I traded Law School applications for Graduate School applications, and got in to an English program right away.  Before the year let out, I had my first teaching job at a boarding school where I happily taught and coached for four years, and moved a few hours north and into the public school relm where my career took off.

 

I was on top of the world, doing what I loved, publishing in the field, speaking at national conventions, and leading a fulfilling personal life for the next five or so years.  While the personal life fell apart, there was a change in administration.  To keep it short, I no longer think of my beloved classroom when I think of teaching.  

 

To make a healthy re-start, I listed what I loved:

• My children
• Writing
• Photography
• Being Outdoors
• Gardening

During my unemployment, I realized my applications/resumes/phone-calls wouldn't get responded to any faster if I stared at my inbox, waiting.  I swallowed the guilt, and did something that would help me feel valued again.

 

I volunteered in my children's classroom and gardening program, and started my own writing business. 

 

Then I took on an office job.

 

This is when I realized that I need an interactive component on a daily basis.  The walls of my cubicle don't talk back, and in spite of working with the three nicest women on the planet, I'm in hell.

 

This got me wondering, do most people actually just settle for more than forty hours of their waking lives, never to consider their own happiness?  

 

I was taught to do what makes me happy.  I'm still building my business, and although I'm not sure how else my happiness translates to the working world anymore, I'm sure as hell going to try. 

What a Potential Employer Won't Realize about Unemployment

Getting laid-off from a company that you trusted and dedicated several years of your life to is a traumatic experience.  A sense of lacking self-worth grows tenfold after weeks of rejection from potential hires for the same position, and debilitating after several months on unemployment benefits while you are attempting to get jobs in lower-paying positions, finally tanking what's left of your self-confidence when it seems like potential employers see your unemployment as the result of your actions.

A potential employer will not recognize the fact that there are no positions available in your field. If you were so highly qualified, why did they ditch you? But they won't ask.

What they will see is incompetence.

A potential employer will not see that while you weren't working for six months, you were trying to get another job, and balance that with losing your house, keeping your spouse, and finding an attorney so you can see your kids after you did lose your spouse.

What they will see is financial instability.

A potential employer will not understand that going to the gym every day was the only way to convince yourself that you had something to commit to.  It made you set your alarm and go to bed on time because without your family or a job, there wasn't much reason to get up in the morning. 

What they will see is poor time managment skills.

A potential employer will not recognize the fact that your pride, self-confidence, and general life satisfaction make what comes out of a meat-grinder look like a sweet, happy cow in comparasin.

What they will see is emotional instability.

And finally the potential employer is correct.  There is no emotional stability when you had to learn loss on a fast-track.  When a layoff to becomes a head-game, its easy to believe that everything you worked toward for your whole life was in vain.  You were the most valuable player.  You gave up a social life to work on that education.  You climbed mountains of ladders, smashed glass cielings, and now what? 

 

Now you have choices:

 

     1.  Give up

     2.  Press on

 

How did you answer that choice all those years back?  That same answer remains the key for your success, even now.

 

 

Five Post-Layoff Interview Secrets

As one reaping the benefits of overhearing managerial complaints about recent interviews, I'm learning ample information that my mother (a stay-at home woman who wore make-up to bed and heels to the grocery store) never told me.

 

 

 

 

 

1. Don't wear perfume to an interview

2. Don't chat up the interviewer/ extend the interview for more than a half hour

3. Don't tell them how much money you used to make

4. Don't try to impress them

5. Don't tell them you've been unemployed for any length of time

Here's the breakdown:

1. Even if you smell badly, it will stink more if your potential manager can't concentrate on what you have to say because s/he is too overwhelmed with a stuffed head and runny eyes because you want to smell expensive. This also applies to smoking in your car before an interview, but I'm a biased non-smoker and thought that was obvious.

2. You are one potential candidate seeking employment. You may be charming, funny, and personable, but that is information best kept after sitting around and figuring out who you're working with. An employer wants you to answer the questions, explain any gaps on your resume, and find out if you are some kind of freak-show or not. If you're a nervous chatter, just shut the fuck up. Practice doing so with a spouse or loved one when in a heated discussion you have a lot to say about.

3. Omit the fact that you've made two to ten times the amount of what you are willing to work for. Employers will freak out if they think you expect them to pay you what you're really worth. You're back at the bottom of the picking order. At this point, you're probably applying to a job outside of your field. They're not going to pay you more than they pay their own manager, and definitely not more than they pay their CEO.

4. First impressions are important. Outwardly. Verbally impressing someone can cost you a job. If you make it to the interview, remember to shut the fuck up. They're looking for someone to complete a task. Get the job to do that task, THEN work your way up. You are only being interviewed for the ONE position. Your prior success and skill-set could make you a threat to the individual interviewing you in that you may be more qualified than they are for a position sought by them internally.

5. Not having worked for any length of time looks like you don't want to/aren't willing to work. The easiest solution to this interviewing faux-pas is to hold a magnet to your head. Ignorance is bliss, so it's best to forget about who you were professionally. You need a job to feed your family, so none of that matters in the interim. Erase it. Try to get your real-estate/health-insurance/life-insurance etc. license, even if it's not what you want to do so you can at least say you were trying to do something. Not being good in Sales, or even failing to pass a test, -looks far better on a resume than a huge, gaping job hiatus of several months to a year.

You're not alone in an economy that makes you financially worth less after ten years of experience and several years of education than you were as a teenager. Best of luck.

Sincerely,

Amanda K.

@mandiklim

 

Third-World Currency

*Images available in upcoming draft

Once upon a time, in a magical notion known as a good economy, I believed that my education would keep me on the, "giving" side of life.   I worked two jobs through high school, and invested in Honors opportunities to turn the scholarship coin as well.  If anything is worth wealth, it's a strong, diverse education.

In my youth, I decided to become an international attorney so that I could provide legal services to those in need in an effort to ensure that basic human rights would prevail.  I was fueled by my high school experiences of writing for Amnesty International, volunteering in soup kitchens, and working with friends  to raise money for Somalians; but it wasn't enough for me.

In the mid-nineties, between high-school and college, I made the physical shift to Haiti, helping to re-build a fallen culture.  I wasn't saddened by the heartache I saw, but idealistically strengthened in the fact that I could help a people reinvent their country post-Papa Doc.

I was more determined than ever to empower those who had been trampled by economical hard comings brought on by political lack of judgment.

I carried my convictions with me that fall, when I began my undergraduate studies in foreign languages and cultures, as well as in (government centered) philosophy.  To finance my education, I worked primarily with international students in a writing center where I learned that my passion was not in politics on the grand-scale, but in people on an individual basis.

I decided to become a teacher and, after more education, taught literacy and writing for the next dozen years.  I worked with students age 13 to 21 with varying cultural, religious, and language backgrounds, as well as those who had learning disabilities or special needs, finally finding my niche with those considered, "at-risk".

It was at this point in my career when strange things began to happen.

Specialized programs were being cut.  Curricula vitae began to look more like "Big Brother" was designing them.  Classroom size grew while teacher population shrank, and employees were sent to "The Silver Chair" coming back "Stepford" or not at all.

Public-service jobs in general began to disappear, as did community activities, and hours to public services.

Within months, major chains of minimum-wage employers were letting go of full-time employees, relieving them from access to healthcare benefits.  The idea that any job is better than no job at all turns a blind idea that, in instances of being the only source of a family's income, it likely means the demise of physical, emotional, and mental wellbeing.

Whats more, the recent tax increase has totaled, rather than simply dented, the income of those Americans fortunate enough not to have been affected by the aforementioned situational troughs.

Although this glimpse into our economy reminds us that we are in a recession, the facts that follow tell more than that.  These dire bullets to our way of life mimic patterns that historically warn us of oncoming depression.  Though easily dismissed as conspiracy theory, the fact that even Wall Street's big banks are gearing up for yet more layoffs show that it is an imminent possibility.

Not only has our economy decimated lower and middle class America, but it's demise is creeping upward into the jobs had by those who may believe themselves to be "safe" from such destructive forces.

I believe in the good of humanity, but I've seen first hand what happens when a Nation's people don't stand up for their rights; what happens when a nation gives up on itself, when the power of the people submits to inactive bitching, hiding behind ignorance and blaming a singular individual without looking into the deeper issues at hand.

And so I challenge you.  If you're pissed about what's happening to our country, find out what's adding to its downfall.  Just do it before its too late.

Dead. Lines.

As someone who thought she hated to write my whole life, you'd never know it for the miles of personal writing I've done since a blue-eyed, black-haired, blues-playing, coffee-selling, way older than me (by like, two grades!) wrote in a journal, shared his poetry with me, and impressed me with the fact that he would actually bother writing down something as lame as he had.  (Keep in mind, this was back in the nineties when it was ok to be bad.  We were; after all, coming off out hair-band obsession where we  confused tonguing the air with musical lyricism.)

It was an epiphany.  I could write.

No.

I could write BADLY!!!

And it wouldn't matter because nobody had to read it!  I was liberated!  This boy (who made it into my yearbook because the superlative was due during the month I was obsessed with him... never even kissed me, the bastard!) -had made it possible for me to write without judgment or guilt or fear!

And so it began.  For the next twenty years, I wrote.  Safely for the most part.

Eventually I got good enough to prefer writing to other forms of testing.  A twenty page paper was no problem for me, as long as there were no blank lines to fill in with a letter or a word...

See, I can write; can physically, mentally, and emotionally write.

That is, unless its fill in the blank... give me say, a court docket, a financial affidavit, an application for something humiliating, and I simply can't do it.  I could write them as a chapter in a book or ace them as answers to an interview, but the lines!  Oh, the dead lines kill me!

I've decided, that this is why they are called dead lines.

They leave me dead.  Like an arrow through the temple dead.  The language jumps around, and I can't figure out how to answer the really hard questions; you know, questions like:

Last Name _____________  First _____________  M.  __"

or  

Date __________ (even if it's already filled in)

The lines are dead.  No heart beat.  No mountains to draw on or diagrams to plot, just dead lines.

I stare. I sit. I look. I pile.  I stack.  I line up my pens.  I clean my glasses.  I try to see what the paper means.  I sweat.  I get nauseous.  I hold my breath.  I'm dead.  Flat lined.  I can't do it.  The paper screams death.

So I look up.
And my writer's block clears up.

I can block-out scenes, create stories, develop characters, sketch plots, analyze literature, stagnate poems, tweet to volley ideas...  Essentially, I can write again.  And this time, not badly (or at least, not as badly.)

I just can't handle a single dead line.

I've been staring at paperwork that has to be done today for the past five hours in a restaurant, -and that's just today.  I avoided the house so I wouldn't clean.  I didn't bring a plug for my computer so I wouldn't write.  I sat in the hard chair and not their couch so I'd wouldn't be comfortable.

I think its time to give up with dead lines for now, otherwise I'll flatline, and I'd rather not do that.  Not when there are so many great ideas floating in my imagination waiting to be written out!  And now?  Home to where the plugs are.  Hey, I can't say I didn't try!