Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
Jobless, Not Useless
I am jobless. Not useless.
I have a lovely home. I have a wonderful family that I love. My (thankfully employed) husband supports me, tries to make me laugh, and is a wonderful father. My beautiful baby boy is blissfully sleeping (thank you) as I write this and my funny little girl is at preschool, which we can still afford at this point, thank God.
Last February, the Monday we got back from vacation, the week after my birthday, on February 8th, I was laid off. I came back to find a birthday card with a $50 bill in it—the usual birthday gift from our small friendly company. I settled in, sent off a quick e-mail to let everyone know I was in the office and ready to go now that I was back from vacation. And then… a messenger was sent in. Someone sent to fetch me to the general manager’s office.
She sat me down and told me that the previous week had been a bad one. They had laid off several of my co-workers. I said how sorry I was. I asked about my department and checked to make sure that none of my compadres had been let go. I thought I was just being brought up to date on the news of what had happened in my absence. And then I noticed the paperwork on her desk. And that my name was at the top. And that it was my turn.
I have been laid off three times by this company, and hired back twice. (This seems to be the rule and not the exception in the entertainment industry, where things slow down periodically and salary is not given, just an hourly rate. And when you’re not working, even if you’re at work, you’re not paid.) The question of whether or not in a month or so I will be hired back again is not the question I should be asking myself. The question I should be asking myself is, “Why would I go back to a company that values me so little that they repeatedly have thrown me away?” They break up with me like a bad boyfriend, and expect me to be waiting for them to come back. So, while I look for other work, I tell myself every day: “I do have value.” “I provided ten years of quality work for this company.” “I am more than just a subtitle editor.” “I am creative.” And although it hasn’t exactly made itself obvious to everyone around me, “I am a successful woman.”
I have a lovely home. I have a wonderful family that I love. My (thankfully employed) husband supports me, tries to make me laugh, and is a wonderful father. My beautiful baby boy is blissfully sleeping (thank you) as I write this and my funny little girl is at preschool, which we can still afford at this point, thank God.
Last February, the Monday we got back from vacation, the week after my birthday, on February 8th, I was laid off. I came back to find a birthday card with a $50 bill in it—the usual birthday gift from our small friendly company. I settled in, sent off a quick e-mail to let everyone know I was in the office and ready to go now that I was back from vacation. And then… a messenger was sent in. Someone sent to fetch me to the general manager’s office.
She sat me down and told me that the previous week had been a bad one. They had laid off several of my co-workers. I said how sorry I was. I asked about my department and checked to make sure that none of my compadres had been let go. I thought I was just being brought up to date on the news of what had happened in my absence. And then I noticed the paperwork on her desk. And that my name was at the top. And that it was my turn.
I have been laid off three times by this company, and hired back twice. (This seems to be the rule and not the exception in the entertainment industry, where things slow down periodically and salary is not given, just an hourly rate. And when you’re not working, even if you’re at work, you’re not paid.) The question of whether or not in a month or so I will be hired back again is not the question I should be asking myself. The question I should be asking myself is, “Why would I go back to a company that values me so little that they repeatedly have thrown me away?” They break up with me like a bad boyfriend, and expect me to be waiting for them to come back. So, while I look for other work, I tell myself every day: “I do have value.” “I provided ten years of quality work for this company.” “I am more than just a subtitle editor.” “I am creative.” And although it hasn’t exactly made itself obvious to everyone around me, “I am a successful woman.”
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