What doesn't kill us...
I started a new job this week. I should have started it a few weeks ago, but we had a trip to Quebec City planned, and there was no way I was giving up that (the trip was great, btw. Thanks for asking!)
My new job is do-it-in-my-sleep easy, although that may change next week when not only am I on my own (no more job-partner watching over my shoulder) but everyone else I could ask for help is taking final holidays before the new year starts. However, I am pretty good at making up what I don't know, so I am not too worried about it.
No, the job is not what has me hyperventilating through nightmares and scratching holes in my skin. It's the neighbourhood - my new job is in the middle of the toughest block of the city - a by-word for poverty and all its attendent problems in my country. Literally. It has been at the forefront of every newstory about addiction, about homelessness, even about mass murder. And I take a bus and walk through the centre of the neighbourhood twice a day three days a week.
I thought about it. A lot. I discussed it with the hiring committee in my first interview, then faced it again in my second. I talked with my cousin who used to work in the same neighbourhood (she was no real comfort). I prayed about it. And I decided to face my fears, to put my money where my mouth was (I said I wanted to make a difference), and I took the job.
And I haven't slept since.
I should make it clear that I am not working with people in the neighbourhood - I am one of the parish secretaries for a large church. I may have some contact with the community, but mostly I work with the parishioners and clergy. Hence the job itself being a dream - easy work, good people, nothing to worry about.
But I sit on the bus and feel my shoulders tense up (if I am lucky enough to sit - usually it is standing room only until 5 blocks before my stop). And today after work, I sat at a bus stop waiting for a bus that didn't come for nearly 25 minutes. I watched two attempted thefts, and the negotiation of two drug deals and one blowjob. I finally got on the next bus that showed up and hoped it would take me somewhere close to where I wanted to go. It took me 1 hour and 15 minutes to get home.
Things happen. Buses get jammed up. Schedules are only approximate. Drivers are not responsible. I get that. I get all that. But it took me 20 minutes to stop shaking. And it is still light out.
The senior priest doesn't think I'm going to stick. He keeps anxiously saying he hopes that things work out. I think he argued against hiring me, not because he thought I couldn't do the job, but because he doesn't think I'm tough enough to deal with the environment.
I'm a little afraid he's right.
My new job is do-it-in-my-sleep easy, although that may change next week when not only am I on my own (no more job-partner watching over my shoulder) but everyone else I could ask for help is taking final holidays before the new year starts. However, I am pretty good at making up what I don't know, so I am not too worried about it.
No, the job is not what has me hyperventilating through nightmares and scratching holes in my skin. It's the neighbourhood - my new job is in the middle of the toughest block of the city - a by-word for poverty and all its attendent problems in my country. Literally. It has been at the forefront of every newstory about addiction, about homelessness, even about mass murder. And I take a bus and walk through the centre of the neighbourhood twice a day three days a week.
I thought about it. A lot. I discussed it with the hiring committee in my first interview, then faced it again in my second. I talked with my cousin who used to work in the same neighbourhood (she was no real comfort). I prayed about it. And I decided to face my fears, to put my money where my mouth was (I said I wanted to make a difference), and I took the job.
And I haven't slept since.
I should make it clear that I am not working with people in the neighbourhood - I am one of the parish secretaries for a large church. I may have some contact with the community, but mostly I work with the parishioners and clergy. Hence the job itself being a dream - easy work, good people, nothing to worry about.
But I sit on the bus and feel my shoulders tense up (if I am lucky enough to sit - usually it is standing room only until 5 blocks before my stop). And today after work, I sat at a bus stop waiting for a bus that didn't come for nearly 25 minutes. I watched two attempted thefts, and the negotiation of two drug deals and one blowjob. I finally got on the next bus that showed up and hoped it would take me somewhere close to where I wanted to go. It took me 1 hour and 15 minutes to get home.
Things happen. Buses get jammed up. Schedules are only approximate. Drivers are not responsible. I get that. I get all that. But it took me 20 minutes to stop shaking. And it is still light out.
The senior priest doesn't think I'm going to stick. He keeps anxiously saying he hopes that things work out. I think he argued against hiring me, not because he thought I couldn't do the job, but because he doesn't think I'm tough enough to deal with the environment.
I'm a little afraid he's right.