I've been unemployed before and it's never fun. This time feels different though, mainly because I was working in a job I was good at, liked well enough, and was making enough money to survive on. I didn't voluntarily leave. This time is different too because being desperately broke isn't as much of a concern since I'm married now, so we have the husband's income, and I'm also able to collect unemployment. We're going to have to cut back on some things, but we're going to get through it.
It's been a month since my last day of work and I'm starting to feel it. The lack of motivation or desire to get off the couch (the 5pm sunsets aren't helping), and just a weird sense of uselessness. I'm looking for jobs but at this point I don't even know what kind of job I want.
What is my purpose? What am I good at? What do I enjoy doing? Where do I see myself in five years? I feel like I don't have answers to any of these questions.
I've worked with kids, adults, and teenagers. I've done office work and teaching work. Mostly in struggling nonprofits. I've been pretty good at every job I've had. I have this ridiculous degree that I've barely used and will be paying for it until I die (those loans aren't going away). What do I do with this?
worth typing
West Philly regular, slowly losing my mind or something.
Monday, November 16, 2015
Friday, November 6, 2015
a poem
Inspired my week three of my unemployment.
Untitled (by Carolanne Mitchell)
I have become one with the couch.
Cushions, stained and worn, bend to my form-
hold me like a child.
Feet recline and I'm lost in the soft blue glow
of the TV.
A lazy cat presses against my side-
Sister.
Netflix: Always there in my time of need.
Outside orange leaves bounce off blue sky
squirrels scurry in the backyard preparing for the cold
rustling leaves.
Birds sing to remind me, beckoning me.
But the couch grips me tighter,
the cat stretches her paws,
And Netflix asks if I'm still watching.
I am.
Untitled (by Carolanne Mitchell)
I have become one with the couch.
Cushions, stained and worn, bend to my form-
hold me like a child.
Feet recline and I'm lost in the soft blue glow
of the TV.
A lazy cat presses against my side-
Sister.
Netflix: Always there in my time of need.
Outside orange leaves bounce off blue sky
squirrels scurry in the backyard preparing for the cold
rustling leaves.
Birds sing to remind me, beckoning me.
But the couch grips me tighter,
the cat stretches her paws,
And Netflix asks if I'm still watching.
I am.
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
I'm not a classroom teacher
A lot of times when people find out I have a master's in education they assume I want to be a teacher. Usually by "teacher" they mean a traditional classroom teacher. Someone who stands in front of a class of 25+ students (that's being conservative these days) and teaches them what they need to know. I am not a classroom teacher and I don't want to be one, and that's okay.
I wouldn't be a good classroom teacher. It's important to know what you're good at, but it's also important to know what you're not good at. I know a lot of amazing and talented classroom teachers and I will never be part of their ranks. When I see the dedication and passion they bring to their classrooms I'm always somewhat awe-struck, because I know I could never do that.
So why did I bother burying myself in student loan debt to get an education degree if I don't want to be a classroom teacher? Maybe it was just because five years ago I desperately needed a change and a challenge and it seemed like a good opportunity. Even in graduate school I knew I didn't want to be a classroom teacher like a lot of my classmates. I was interested in after-school programs and community-based education. I was, and still am, interested in educating from outside the system,
Also I need some downtime during my days to gather my thoughts. And I need to be able to take bathroom breaks. I don't like taking my work home with me. I know that's sort of an expectation nowadays, especially for teachers, but it's just not for me.
I was laid off from my job recently and some well-meaning friends have suggested I apply for vacancies in the Philadelphia school district. Others have asked me why I don't apply to schools in the suburbs. There are a few reasons, but here are two: 1) I have a Reading Specialist certification and there just aren't a lot of jobs for Reading Specialists. 2) I'm not a classroom teacher.
Teachers are highly trained professionals who aren't paid what they're worth and need to put in a tremendous number of hours to support their students. They often take the blame for failing schools and failed policies. I admire the teachers in my life for their ability to clear through all the bureaucracy and do what's best for their students. But it's too much pressure for me.
I know what I'm good at and it's not being a classroom teacher. It's okay to know what you don't want to do.
I wouldn't be a good classroom teacher. It's important to know what you're good at, but it's also important to know what you're not good at. I know a lot of amazing and talented classroom teachers and I will never be part of their ranks. When I see the dedication and passion they bring to their classrooms I'm always somewhat awe-struck, because I know I could never do that.
So why did I bother burying myself in student loan debt to get an education degree if I don't want to be a classroom teacher? Maybe it was just because five years ago I desperately needed a change and a challenge and it seemed like a good opportunity. Even in graduate school I knew I didn't want to be a classroom teacher like a lot of my classmates. I was interested in after-school programs and community-based education. I was, and still am, interested in educating from outside the system,
Also I need some downtime during my days to gather my thoughts. And I need to be able to take bathroom breaks. I don't like taking my work home with me. I know that's sort of an expectation nowadays, especially for teachers, but it's just not for me.
I was laid off from my job recently and some well-meaning friends have suggested I apply for vacancies in the Philadelphia school district. Others have asked me why I don't apply to schools in the suburbs. There are a few reasons, but here are two: 1) I have a Reading Specialist certification and there just aren't a lot of jobs for Reading Specialists. 2) I'm not a classroom teacher.
Teachers are highly trained professionals who aren't paid what they're worth and need to put in a tremendous number of hours to support their students. They often take the blame for failing schools and failed policies. I admire the teachers in my life for their ability to clear through all the bureaucracy and do what's best for their students. But it's too much pressure for me.
I know what I'm good at and it's not being a classroom teacher. It's okay to know what you don't want to do.
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Educated and Unemployed
I'm embarking on my 30's unemployed. Not because of anything I did, but because of politician (those assholes). I've never been laid off before- it feels very grown-up. I'm trying to stay positive, and to be honest I needed a break. Maybe this is the forceful push I needed to really start looking for something bigger and better. Maybe now I'll start actually cleaning my home and making meals instead of planting myself on the couch after work and not moving until it's time to make myself go to bed.
This is day two of my unemployment adventure and I need to go clean my room.
This is day two of my unemployment adventure and I need to go clean my room.
Friday, January 4, 2013
2012 month-by-month
This is where I reflect on the past year month-by-month, because I have time to do that right now. Let me just start by saying that this was a hard year for me. It started with my diploma from Penn arriving in the mail, confirming that I did in fact do that and I now have a masters degree in education. Time to get a damn job, right? Only that proved to be insanely difficult and something I struggled with through out the year. I never had enough money, there were plenty of times I couldn't afford food. I'm not really sure how I made it to this point, to be honest. But yeah, here's the play-by-play:
January
This is great. No more grad school. No more articles to read or papers to write. I guess I should look for a job now, but at least I have all this extra student loan money to live off for the next couple months.
February
I'm already over writing cover letters and going to job interviews. When will this end?
March
Not any time soon, clearly. I guess I'll take this job at the most horrible after school program in the world. 5 hours a week at $10/hr is totally worth my time.
April
This is the dumbest after school program in the world. A third interview is a good sign, right? At least the weather is starting to get nice. Oh, and according to my calculations I'm going to be completely out of money in a month.
May
My calculations were correct, I'm out of money. Those $50 paychecks weren't really helping much anyway, but that job is over now. Because it makes sense to end an after school program a month before school ends. Guess I'll start temping.
June- August
(I have no idea how I survived these months.) I went home in June for my dad's birthday and realized I could never move back there, no matter how desperate I got. Temping at the convention center isn't so bad, I guess. But damn, it's hot out. Thank god my friend gave me an air conditioner. Thank god my friends bought me food and lent me money to pay my rent. Seriously... how did I make it through the summer? At the end of August I finally secured a steady job and ended the month with one last temp gig working for the Republican party.
September
I started my new job and quickly realized that they were paying me an offensively low wage, but that I was in no position to dispute it. When I got the call about the job I was so desperate I was seriously considering moving home with my mom.
October
My birthday happened and I felt loved. I still didn't have enough money.
November
I had a 60 day review at work and got the sense that my boss likes me (but still wished she would pay me like it). I got dumped. I got over it. I went home for Thanksgiving and it was nice.
December
I told myself I was going to seriously look for a second part time job. I didn't. I talked to my boss about remote possibilities of promotions far far in the future. I got sweet cards and gifts from families at work. I got to see most of my extended family for Christmas. It was nice. I celebrated the New Year in Philly with wonderful people who have become some of my best friends.
This is great. No more grad school. No more articles to read or papers to write. I guess I should look for a job now, but at least I have all this extra student loan money to live off for the next couple months.
February
I'm already over writing cover letters and going to job interviews. When will this end?
March
Not any time soon, clearly. I guess I'll take this job at the most horrible after school program in the world. 5 hours a week at $10/hr is totally worth my time.
April
This is the dumbest after school program in the world. A third interview is a good sign, right? At least the weather is starting to get nice. Oh, and according to my calculations I'm going to be completely out of money in a month.
May
My calculations were correct, I'm out of money. Those $50 paychecks weren't really helping much anyway, but that job is over now. Because it makes sense to end an after school program a month before school ends. Guess I'll start temping.
June- August
(I have no idea how I survived these months.) I went home in June for my dad's birthday and realized I could never move back there, no matter how desperate I got. Temping at the convention center isn't so bad, I guess. But damn, it's hot out. Thank god my friend gave me an air conditioner. Thank god my friends bought me food and lent me money to pay my rent. Seriously... how did I make it through the summer? At the end of August I finally secured a steady job and ended the month with one last temp gig working for the Republican party.
September
I started my new job and quickly realized that they were paying me an offensively low wage, but that I was in no position to dispute it. When I got the call about the job I was so desperate I was seriously considering moving home with my mom.
October
My birthday happened and I felt loved. I still didn't have enough money.
November
I had a 60 day review at work and got the sense that my boss likes me (but still wished she would pay me like it). I got dumped. I got over it. I went home for Thanksgiving and it was nice.
December
I told myself I was going to seriously look for a second part time job. I didn't. I talked to my boss about remote possibilities of promotions far far in the future. I got sweet cards and gifts from families at work. I got to see most of my extended family for Christmas. It was nice. I celebrated the New Year in Philly with wonderful people who have become some of my best friends.
Friday, December 14, 2012
making sense of the senseless
I've been working with kids for a long time. As a childcare professional I've gone through a lot of safety trainings and every time I hope to never have to use them. I think I'll be rereading my notes this weekend. I'm sensitive in ways that may not be obvious right away. I tear up at CPR training sometimes because I can't help but imagine scenarios where a knowledge of CPR might prove useful. When sitting through a safety training I imagine what it might feel like in an actual emergency. I'm thinking about the steps: shelter-in-place is announced, lock the doors, move away from the windows, huddle all 40 kids inside the kitchen and wait for the all clear. But that could never happen at my program. I'm sure the teachers at Sandy Hook Elementary thought it could never happen at their school, until it did. And I can't help but try to imagine myself in their shoes as they remembered their safety training. Active shooter on campus. Never mind how much those words should never have to be spoken at an elementary school. But they acted fast and bravely and kept their students safe, and I can't imagine what they must be feeling now knowing that they survived and other didn't.
Everyone is trying to make sense of it and figure out who to blame. Guns or mental illness or some combination of factors. How to prevent this from ever happening again. It doesn't make sense, though. Senseless acts of violence are like that.
I was reading about this shooting before work today, just a few minutes before I went out to meet my kids after school. I was reading about it and holding back tears as I listened to my coworkers talk about Youtube videos. It was in the back of my mind all day. I was thinking about this and the senseless act of violence that happened in my neighborhood Wednesday night when two teenage boys shot a man over an argument about sports. Senseless. Violence.
I was thinking about it when I saw a group of sixth graders throwing clumps of dirt at a group of fourth graders playing soccer, and when one of those clumps of dirt hit a boy in the face and he started walking toward me crying, and when I almost lost my cool and raised my voice at the sixth graders that this shit has got to stop. Kids throwing dirt at each other is not the worst thing they could be doing, for sure. But the attitude that it's no big deal is what bothers me. They'll say they're just playing, but somebody inevitably gets hurt and my job is to keep them safe while they're in my care.
The news about the shooting in Connecticut had not reached my elementary schools kids by this afternoon and we were asked not to bring it up so their parents could address it with them first, but I'm sure it will be a topic of conversation on Monday. I hope it will be an opportunity to talk about the point I've been trying to get through to them all year, which is simply don't hurt each other.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
new leg: frustrations
Things finally came through and I picked up my knew leg Friday. Everything is new on this thing: brand new socket that fits a lot tighter (better) than the old one, cute new foot that's not too big or too wide and a new knee.
Here's a picture of the foot, which is basically the only part of this leg I'm excited about:
Here's a picture of the foot, which is basically the only part of this leg I'm excited about:
If you've ever been shoe shopping with me before, which you probably haven't, you'd know why I'm so happy about this foot. My left foot is a narrow size 6.5 and for the past 15 years that I've had to contend with a rubber right foot that has varied from a very wide size 7 to a very wide 6 (apparently they don't make half sizes in fake feet), none of which has ever wanted to fit nicely or easily into a woman's shoe. I've broken a sweat trying to pry on dress shoes before. But this new foot is as close to perfect as I could imagine. It's like a lady's foot. I don't know if all those other feet were made for men, or if they just had a generic gender neutral prosthetic foot up until now. But, here it is, a just right foot. No more sweating over shoes.
The socket fits a lot tighter than my old one, but that's because that's how it's supposed to fit and my old one is now slightly too big because I lost a little weight since I got this set up four years ago. It happens.
I was at my leg place for about three hours Friday because I forgot how horrible the whole process can be. Everything was built and assembled, so we just needed to get the height and alignment correct... which it isn't. I'm not sure if my old leg was just really short and I got used to being short on the right side or if the new one is slightly too long. But the smallest length disparity feels real weird. Right now it feels real weird.
I downgraded from a C-leg to an Ossur Mauch knee (click those links to learn more about fancy prosthetic technology from the respective manufacturers). Ossur is the same company that makes those cool blade legs for running (worn by Olympian Oscar Pistorius) and the Mauch is supposed to be a pretty high end knee that allows the wearer to do cool things (like climb Mt. Kilimanjaro apparently-- if you watch the video on their website you'll hear how that guy did that with this knee). Really, all I want to do is walk to the grocery story and withstand attack hugs from kids at work.
When I tried the new knee at the office I was noticing it wasn't quite bending and felt really stiff, they made some adjustments but it didn't really get better. They sent me home with both legs so I could get used to the new one gradually. I still owe them my loaner C-leg back, but after wearing the Mauch around for a little while today I don't think I want to give up my old knee. I'm not sure if I'm doing something wrong or the knee is just set up all wrong, but it's only bending about 50% of the time I'm walking and I haven't been able to figure it out. The first step feels fine, the knee swings, it's cool... but I walked all the way to the bank today like a pirate and it was not fun. I just want to walk normal, or as close to normal as I can get. It did not look or feel normal walking around with the new leg today and it was insanely frustrating. Now that I have health insurance I might be able to get on a plan that will cover a new C-leg, but I don't know which plan that is or how many times they'll let me change plans (since my coverage hasn't even officially started yet). There are things I could potentially do with the Mauch that I probably couldn't do with the C-leg (like run, if I suddenly decided to start doing that), but I just got so comfortable with the C-leg and it's so good for just normal walking around things.
So now I don't know what I'm going to do, and of course next week is a short week with Thanksgiving, so I don't know if I'll be able to get in for adjustments. I do plan on calling the leg guy Monday to let him know what's going on. But seriously, leg stuff is so frustrating.
Labels:
amputee problems,
disability,
frustrations,
healthcare
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