Letting go of the past...

Most of this journey began January 2005. I decided to make a career change, to leave teaching for good. On http://www.assessment.com/, the field of financial advising turned out to be one of my top professions. So, for the last month and a half, I’ve been through a rigorous hiring process with a well-known investment company. (Let’s just call them “EJ”.) FBI background and credit checks; all I lack is a blood and/or urine sample. I’m sure they’ll be asking for that soon enough. Well, until now…

The past several weeks has been a roller coaster ride of emotions and decisions-to-be-made. Lucky for me, I have a great husband, the kind that Dr. Phil describes as “providing a soft place to land”. (I must really be great in bed because I’ve yet to figure out how he puts up with my constant insecurities.) After about a week of waiting for EJ to call back for the next step in the HR dance, I was getting antsy. One morning while fighting back tears, I sighed that I felt as if this was my last chance to get it right. Hubby just laughs and says, “You’re looking at it all wrong. Your family is your career, that doesn’t change. A job is just a job. If you quit or get laid-off, you just go out and get another one. We’re always gonna be here.” I paused to catch my breath and fight the growing lump in my throat…

Whenever a door closes, why do I feel that I have to walk through the next one trying to prove something? I’m still really bummed out about leaving “The Educational Software Company”. There’s a nagging feeling that I never got the chance to really prove myself. It’s almost as if I were invisible… especially after seeing that many of the suggestions I made earlier in the year were implemented by someone else. Let it go, Mon!

Here’s the part that kicks my ass: As I’m digging through my teacher stuff to put together a portfolio, I find IT. IT is the next hurdle that I need to get over. In my years of working for the school district in Texas, I was never happier. (Except for my first marriage; hey, nothing’s perfect.) Just like a puppy, I’m loyal and devoted as long as I’m petted and appreciated. I have my “District Employee of the Month” pics that friends sent as congrats, my “Regional Wal-Mart Teacher of the Year” and “Southwestern Bell Excellence in Teaching” crystal apple. My evaluations were glowing and positive. Any suggestions were addressed in a fair and constructive manner. I can’t say that I regret leaving… I would have never met my husband and had my awesome girls.

Back to IT… an innocuous looking file folder full of hate, lies, denigrations. A folder that almost made me literally vomit when I stumbled onto it two nights ago. I was going to post some of the vile crap but decided not to. I used to call them my ‘love letters’. Before I left New Mexico, I debated as to whether or not I needed to keep any of it. I was almost sure that some bogus lawsuit would appear out of nowhere and here would be my proof that I was a more than competent teacher. (My management philosophy is CYA aka documentation, documentation, documentation.)

The contrast of my entire career in education with the last two years I had at the Catholic school is striking. Self-doubt is something that is a constant. By the time I left, my Zoloft had been doubled, I had lost almost 20 pounds, and still second-guess myself. Worse still, I’ve seen a few of my friends go through the same emotional torture and abuse at the same cost of their health and sanity. I actually went to the local news with this story; they wanted substantial evidence, such as official documents and/or tape recordings of what was really going on. I wasn’t about to do something illegal just to get back at these people. As a matter of fact, they mentioned that I wasn’t the first person to call them regarding this school. There are still times that I try to convince myself that it really wasn’t that bad… Still trying to let it go.

So I’ve had two interviews for teaching positions, another one tomorrow. In a way, going back to teaching is almost like being back in my comfort zone. I know what to expect and what’s expected. The plus, and it’s a very nice one, I would be able to bring the girls with me to work, safe with mommy. But the self-doubt is still there. Was I really burnt out or just burnt out with the situation? I so desperately don’t want to put my family, especially my husband, through all of that again.

One last task: A friend recommended that I get rid of that folder. I’m not sure how I’ll do it but I think a small bonfire would suffice. Hate is such a destructive emotion. Finally coming to grips with the layoff, seeing those letters and memos was like getting punched in the gut. It was as if all of the air had been sucked out of the room, no matter how hard it tried, I couldn’t regain my composure, I couldn’t breathe. I will now try to get back up and really let it go…

I'm not dead yet...

Okay, I haven't fallen off the face of the earth but I've been remiss in keeping up with my mundane musings.

I love Monty Python (Which one is Monty?) and lately I've felt like the guy being loaded onto the "cart of death" in The Holy Grail. May 25th, coinciding with my hubby's birthday, I got my walking papers from my 'educational software' position. Unless you've ever been laid off with an extended departure date, it's pretty much a waste of time. You don't really have a part to play in meetings and other activities; most of what you have to contribute is irrelevant, or so they think. My favorite example was the meeting to go over registration for summer conference in July. Of course, I had to be a smart arse and raise my hand when the team leader asked if there was anyone that would not be able to make the "8:00 group session on Wednesday..."

Being the person I am, I'm always a step or two ahead and have a couple of options. I told a friend this morning that this situation was actually a blessing in disguise. (I have to stay positive or else I'll have to resort to behaving like a disgruntled postal worker. Why cry when you can laugh?)

And in all honesty, I’m somewhat bitter as well. I sort of martyred myself and no one at work will ever really know. When the news broke of the impending doom, I went to my manager, who is also a good friend, and told her that I wanted to bow out graciously. (Soon, the major ass-kissing and backstabbing amongst team members began; notice the irony of the word ‘team’???) I was not at all interested in the next phase of the project, cutting and pasting into a database for weeks at a time, and they would probably find me dead in my cubicle from a self-inflicted stapler wound.

Decisions were made; there were four positions eliminated. Rumors abound. Of course, I was “let go” but I noticed a certain dynamic about the other winners of this lottery. All of the people that were dismissed are married. Call me crazy… It wasn’t even a matter of who had the most experience or talent. I don’t understand it at all but now know that I choose to stay away from Corporate America. I don't regret this experience but there's a coldness that I can't seem to shake.

My friend and soon-to-be-former-boss called and invited the girls and I over for dinner tonight. I don't know what to feel. I can't imagine what it's like to have to tell someone they aren't going to make the cut. I'm also perplexed about how she made her decisions. One of the people that got the ax relocated across the country for this now-defunct position. He has a wealth of experience and is a great person to work with. I just don't get it.

This company's motto talks about transforming the lives of children and raising education to a higher level... I've been editing scripts for this final phase of production. I swear, some of these people cannot write a complete sentence. This next week is going to be long and tedious. Officially, my last day is June 30th (my daughter's birthday), but I've decided not to go past the 23rd, this next Friday. I'll definetly miss the few good friends that I've made.