Crack and My Failure to be a Mind Reader
I did it again.
Like leaving a bad relationship I walked out of my job.
Actually it was more stealth than that. I snuck in before hours, left all work owen stuff, took my personal belongings and high tailed it out without being seen. Ok, one person saw me, but who's to say she wasn't there doing the same thing?
Anyway, it all boils down to the fact that I can't work for a verbally abusive boss. I'm not built that way. Certainly some people can. Being belittled at every encounter, yelled at over the phone for the littlest things (real or imaginary) then pretending everything's fine when she wonders in an hour later just doesn't cut it.
I LOVED my job. The part that remained worthwhile even without adequate supplies (which were always promised yet rarely presented in a timely manner). The part that was face to face with the kids and the awesome artists. The part that was even collecting and entering the required paperwork wasn't so bad because it was necessary for the program to continue.
It was the way she'd talk (or yell rather) at me without allowing any room for discussion, explanation or compromise. You want me to do something different? Great! Tell me about it, let's talk and I'll know what's being expected above and beyond the things I'm already doing -- ie all aspects of my job thus written and spoken of when hired.
It all came down to this: after several encounters in which she approached me more like a savage bear, claws, teeth, the works I started questioning myself and my abilities (not good, especially since I was still doing my job). I spoke on this to a few coworkers, taking care to raise this issue delicately in the unlikely event that I was walking into as-yet-enexplored-territory. I got the feedback I was expecting. She's a terrible communicator, unreliable, people dreaded when she made appointments with them to go over things because she could fly off the handle or leave you waiting and cancel. So my theories were proved truthful.
PLUS, none of us were getting paid a nickle like we were supposed to.
Let me explain. When I signed on I was told "paychecks every two weeks...mileage reimbursement..." Although I worked there from April through July I received only 2 paychecks instead of the 6 I was lead to belive I would receive. Those two checks were 2 months apart and came without explanation or apology at being so late and so inconveniently spread. I HAVE CHILDCARE EXPENSES DUE TO THIS JOB! I was paying to work there essentially, and getting shit for it. Again, without explanation.
I was never paid for the almost $1200 mileage I was owed.
Yeah.
So, I squared away what I was owed out of my July/August check and sent the remainder back to accounting with a detailed note of what paid for what and why I was owed the amount. I have it documented and saved. I had to pay myself or else I would never have seen that money.
It really made me physically ill thinking of leaving. I've never enjoyed something so much as watching kids open up in the classes. Unfortunately sticking around was tearing me down. I'm going to miss the kids. I did get to say goodbye to one class. The class that was cut due to paperwork issues. My coworker and I, well former by this point, agreed to meet with the kids for a farewell party and build food sculptures. It was messy, loud and fun. I'm going to miss that class, even though it was tough and we had to provide our own resources and support for it. It was our class and ours alone. We touched on Georgia O'Keeffe and Mark Rothko. We taught the color wheel and blending methods. We learned of a girl who's stepfather broke her mother's femur by hitting her with the car "accidentally" during a fight. We let them express anger and saddness in their art. It was very fulfilling, very tough, and worth the effort. I wish them all luck.
So, now I've just got a job. I'm going to reset. I've worked for too many small places lately and need a real, established, professional company to allow me the security of having a job tomorrow, getting a paycheck on time that won't bounce, and with work I can leave at work so I can enjoy my home life instead of spend it reeling from some unforeseen verbal punch in the stomach or worrying over whether I'll get the paycheck to cover all the childcare and gas and car wear that I've paid out.
I'm also thinking of taking a few classes this semster toward a teaching degree. Give that a shot. I've never considered it before this last job when I saw the differences that could be made. Now, I'm not naive. Many of the kids didn't want a revelation, didn't care to allow their feelings to be expressed, and just wanted to color or paint or get this over with so they could go back to their life but still avoid court. But some of them, some of them, really found out they could do it. They found a little leverage in the self esteem department. They could vent some of that pent up anger. And THAT is what it was about.
Too bad after dealing with my supervisor I was in dire need of some artistic therapy myself and ultimately the only thing that would release that pressure and cure those ails was to just...walk...away...
Oh, there's no crack in this posting. It's just the strongest title that came to mind.
Like leaving a bad relationship I walked out of my job.
Actually it was more stealth than that. I snuck in before hours, left all work owen stuff, took my personal belongings and high tailed it out without being seen. Ok, one person saw me, but who's to say she wasn't there doing the same thing?
Anyway, it all boils down to the fact that I can't work for a verbally abusive boss. I'm not built that way. Certainly some people can. Being belittled at every encounter, yelled at over the phone for the littlest things (real or imaginary) then pretending everything's fine when she wonders in an hour later just doesn't cut it.
I LOVED my job. The part that remained worthwhile even without adequate supplies (which were always promised yet rarely presented in a timely manner). The part that was face to face with the kids and the awesome artists. The part that was even collecting and entering the required paperwork wasn't so bad because it was necessary for the program to continue.
It was the way she'd talk (or yell rather) at me without allowing any room for discussion, explanation or compromise. You want me to do something different? Great! Tell me about it, let's talk and I'll know what's being expected above and beyond the things I'm already doing -- ie all aspects of my job thus written and spoken of when hired.
It all came down to this: after several encounters in which she approached me more like a savage bear, claws, teeth, the works I started questioning myself and my abilities (not good, especially since I was still doing my job). I spoke on this to a few coworkers, taking care to raise this issue delicately in the unlikely event that I was walking into as-yet-enexplored-territory. I got the feedback I was expecting. She's a terrible communicator, unreliable, people dreaded when she made appointments with them to go over things because she could fly off the handle or leave you waiting and cancel. So my theories were proved truthful.
PLUS, none of us were getting paid a nickle like we were supposed to.
Let me explain. When I signed on I was told "paychecks every two weeks...mileage reimbursement..." Although I worked there from April through July I received only 2 paychecks instead of the 6 I was lead to belive I would receive. Those two checks were 2 months apart and came without explanation or apology at being so late and so inconveniently spread. I HAVE CHILDCARE EXPENSES DUE TO THIS JOB! I was paying to work there essentially, and getting shit for it. Again, without explanation.
I was never paid for the almost $1200 mileage I was owed.
Yeah.
So, I squared away what I was owed out of my July/August check and sent the remainder back to accounting with a detailed note of what paid for what and why I was owed the amount. I have it documented and saved. I had to pay myself or else I would never have seen that money.
It really made me physically ill thinking of leaving. I've never enjoyed something so much as watching kids open up in the classes. Unfortunately sticking around was tearing me down. I'm going to miss the kids. I did get to say goodbye to one class. The class that was cut due to paperwork issues. My coworker and I, well former by this point, agreed to meet with the kids for a farewell party and build food sculptures. It was messy, loud and fun. I'm going to miss that class, even though it was tough and we had to provide our own resources and support for it. It was our class and ours alone. We touched on Georgia O'Keeffe and Mark Rothko. We taught the color wheel and blending methods. We learned of a girl who's stepfather broke her mother's femur by hitting her with the car "accidentally" during a fight. We let them express anger and saddness in their art. It was very fulfilling, very tough, and worth the effort. I wish them all luck.
So, now I've just got a job. I'm going to reset. I've worked for too many small places lately and need a real, established, professional company to allow me the security of having a job tomorrow, getting a paycheck on time that won't bounce, and with work I can leave at work so I can enjoy my home life instead of spend it reeling from some unforeseen verbal punch in the stomach or worrying over whether I'll get the paycheck to cover all the childcare and gas and car wear that I've paid out.
I'm also thinking of taking a few classes this semster toward a teaching degree. Give that a shot. I've never considered it before this last job when I saw the differences that could be made. Now, I'm not naive. Many of the kids didn't want a revelation, didn't care to allow their feelings to be expressed, and just wanted to color or paint or get this over with so they could go back to their life but still avoid court. But some of them, some of them, really found out they could do it. They found a little leverage in the self esteem department. They could vent some of that pent up anger. And THAT is what it was about.
Too bad after dealing with my supervisor I was in dire need of some artistic therapy myself and ultimately the only thing that would release that pressure and cure those ails was to just...walk...away...
Oh, there's no crack in this posting. It's just the strongest title that came to mind.