Mama Said There’d Be Days Like This – Part II

Part II – The calm before the storm …

I made use of my time and resources in July with a trip to visit two of my three kids.  First, stopping in Bakersfield to see my youngest and only son, Dane, and then traveling north to see Sammie in Davis where she was still living after college graduation, working as a veterinarian tech.  Time with them and returning to my core helped to repair a few of the cracks in my confidence, although the deeper, wider ones were hard to ignore as each day with the “ding” of email notifications there were always one or two job rejection emails.  Returning home, I continued to “enjoy” my forced vacation, still working each day to search for jobs and apply.  I had several friends cheering me on from the sidelines … “Oh, did you see XYZ job posted?” … “Hey, have you thought about applying for XYZ?” … “XYZ district is a great place to work; I know John/Jane, let me follow up with him/her and see what’s happening with the current job opening.”  As advice and suggestions were given, I gingerly listened and followed each little morsel that was placed on my plate. I widened not only the geography of my job search but also the scope of work … the type of job.

And then the end of July was approaching.  Money was running low and the cracks in my confidence were spread almost everywhere – like cobwebs displayed on old furniture in an abandoned, forgotten home.  My oldest daughter, Laura, who now lives in Seattle, lent a hand after I melted down to her via a virtual conversation.  She was able to help with a gift card for food which felt like a huge weight off my shoulders; in addition, she started helping me with revising and improving my cover letters that were sadly throwbacks to the early 2000’s  and a time when job searching was much easier for myself.  Her writing and editing skills were amazing and I truly believe that some of the jobs that I got called to for interviews were doors that were opened by the cover letters she finessed.

Summer, in L.A. was hot and humid.  The calendar page turned from July 31st to August 1st and still no job.  I knew the start of a new school year was just around the corner.  I worked more feverishly … searched more diligently.  Spent greater time preparing for each interview, doing my research and homework.  And yet, no job.  What I did have were more phone calls from bill collectors.  I was behind on most payments – my car, my utilities, my loans … my focus was on two things – pooling together whatever resources we could come up with to make rent and keep the gas and electricity on. Andres began to throw in most of his salary towards helping me make rent.  And, I became pretty proficient at humbling myself and asking for help. Laura, again, stepped in and helped with a phone bill; another friend lent me money for utilities.  I became quite expert at “robbing Peter to pay Paul”.  I researched all types of assistance options … help with utilities … food banks and assistance.  In the meantime, I learned that while on unemployment, there are several caveats that include interviews, required trainings, job fairs, and etc.  Each time … each opportunity … my pride was swallowed and my humility grew.  I have always heard the phrase, “Pride goeth before the fall.” and I wasn’t going to fall.  So, I tried and tried.  I spent a morning at Catholic Charities – only to find out that I made too much money on unemployment so I could not qualify for utility assistance; however, they sent me home with four bags of groceries and I felt like I had won the lottery!  Money that I might have scrimped and saved to pay for food could now go towards someplace else.

Along the way, I had continued support  of friends who would call or text to check in on my.  After August came September and October and the only thing that really changed was that my confidence felt like it was almost completed shattered into little pieces as all I had were more rejection letters, more phone calls from creditors and etc. and less hope for things coming to a proverbial good ending. There was no longer a Paul to rob from to pay Peter; scrambling to make just rent was almost becoming a full time job.  Even when Andres and I threw together all that we had for rent, there was still a need to pay for phone – my only connection to calls and contacts for jobs – and electricity.  While my parents and grandparents, of course, lived a life without something they could have deemed as a “luxury”, I couldn’t envision it in 21st century Los Angeles, given that the stove and refrigerator were two of the things that were sustaining me and I had no recourse around these things.   All sorts of anxiety reared its ugly heads … Where would I live? … I couldn’t afford living here … so … and with threats of my car being taken, I couldn’t even imagine driving somewhere to escape or live.

In the midst of this chaos, my health insurance lapsed as of the end of July.  As someone who has Type II diabetes, I had been dependent on medication to keep my sugar levels balanced in addition to keeping my blood pressure at a reasonable rate.  In addition, in late October, my physician from Bakersfield called to tell me that one of my tests that I had in completed in July came back with negative results – a sign of cancer – and I needed to be looked at immediately (after a huge lapse in time needed to communicate this information that was supposedly due to her lack of being made aware of the results).  I became numb.  I wasn’t even going to think of asking the question, “What else could happen?”, because I did not want to even hazard a guess on the answer.  I was on a carousel that kept circling and circling, speeding up with each rotation, and there was no sign that anyone was going to be able to stop it and allow me to get off.

My oldest daughter, Laura, came to visit me and it was a welcomed treat.  She bought me dinner – so nice to have restaurant food again.  We went and visited a museum and it was nice to just walk around and take something in aesthetically again and not let the worry and doubt overcome all my senses.  On the day she arrived in L.A., I had an interview with a school district about an hour from my home for the position of categorical director.  Mind you … my confidence was still pretty broken and in pieces but I felt pretty good about the connections I made with the interview panel as well as how I portrayed my skill set and how I was a match for their advertised position.  During Laura’s visit, this district actually called me to schedule a second interview with the superintendent and others.  Immediately after, Laura critiqued my responses, saying I didn’t sound enthused enough. However, I did attend this interview and in my mind was trying to be the most enthused person on the planet, given Laura’s take of my phone performance.  And, a few days later I got a call that they’d like a picture of myself to use during a board meeting as they presented my candidacy.  I had never been asked this before and this photo now created anxiety that was finally resolved with the emailing of the perfect picture.

Laura returned to Seattle and after the school board meeting, I received the call I had been waiting for.  I had been asleep and my phone was on silent -to avoid creditors – and I saw that I had a missed phone call from the Rialto Unified School District.  I immediately called back.  While going through a myriad of choices to get the person who had actually called me, I saw that the human resources assistant who had been my contact had sent me an email.  “Good morning!  Please give me a call.  I have good news!”

Good news … I had been waiting months for good news.  And, for whatever reason, this day in November was the day it had arrived.  I was in denial … disbelief … almost numb … However, in spite of all of this I felt a huge sense of relief.  A regular school administrator’s salary would be my welcomed, monthly friend once again.  The journey was over.  No matter that I’d still have to go until over a month and a half until having said salary again; the light at the end of the tunnel was finally visible.  Unfortunately, the third day on the job I was in my first, major car accident and of course, the timing was horrible, once again, it was not the worst thing that happened in 2017. However no one was seriously hurt and cars can be replaced or repaired. I saw defeat around every corner in early 2017.  My eyes had adjusted to the darkness; it was almost impossible to see any light in any situation.  So, the accident was a final hiccup in an experience – now seen as a finite amount of time – that would soon be in the past.

I still feel fragile.  While the cracks and webs in my confidence are starting to repair, it will take some time.  Of all life’s experiences, these moments of job loss, unemployment, and desperation are not moments I readily want to relive any time soon.  It could have been worse … yes, yes I know … but what seemed “worse” for me during this time period was often unbearable from my perspective.

How did I get through such an ordeal?  I often ask myself … Here are a few things that helped:

1. I didn’t stop reaching out to people no matter how hard it was.  I do have great friends … some friends I have known for a short time … others for a lifetime. Whether I just needed to vent … to share with someone that I had received yet another rejection letter or  some friends were even able to help financially or with other resources such as food; I will be forever in their debt.
2. I took time to heal myself.  I have a lot of old wounds and scars; we all do.  It’s called life.  However, some of my wounds and scars have been buried quite deeply.  I had a long time friend that I rediscovered a few months ago – Carmen Vesztergom.  Currently, she lives in the UK but had visited LA a few months ago.  It was great to reconnect. She is a very proficient in reiki healing and she visited with me via Skype a few times.  And, I really feel like I turned a corner and healed in some key areas – especially in regards to my past eating habits and disorders.
3. A very special teacher, Connie Jameson, – one who I met in my previous district – purchased a starter kit for me of Rodan and Fields products.  While I still haven’t been able to make my mark in sales, her support got me to try some fabulous products that make my skin feel great.  Some days, I was feeling so down that the highlight of my day was washing my face.  Having a nighttime routine and feeling rejuvenated before going to bed would often set a positive tone for the next day.
4. My animals kept me feeling loved and sane.  My cats seemed to enjoy the added attention and presence.  Frequently, they would nestle next to me and often when I would wake in the middle of the night, they would provide me great comfort.  I also kept the bird feeder stocked on the balcony outside and I have made several fine feathered friends that even come up to me when I step outside the front door.  And, I can’t forget the two dogs that have made me a dog lover – almost equal to cats – Paisley and Jackson.
5. Netflix.  Yes … When in doubt, I found myself lost in series that I “binged” to escape.  From Stranger Things … to Mindhunter … to Call the Midwife and almost every British show that is included in the line up.
6. I never gave up … even when it would have been easier to.  I kept putting one foot in front of the other.  I tried to keep a routine; that helped keep me sane.  But, I never, ever gave up.
7. I prayed – a lot.  Thomas and Andres have been on a spiritual journey that has led them to a Pentecostal church.  I attended with them several times; however, I always felt most at home at Mass … in a local Catholic church.  The tradition, the smells, the familiarity … all wrapped me in a big, comfortable blanket; each time I left the doors with new found hope and strength.

Of all the calendar years I have welcomed and said goodbye to – 2017 is one that I am definitely going to enjoy having in my rearview mirror.  Happy New Year’s, Everyone.  And, thank you!!!

Mama Said There’d Be Days Like This … Part I

Mama said there’d be days like this … there’d be days like this … Mama said …

Actually … not true!  🙂 My mother or even my mother’s mother could not have predicted “days like this”… several days, in fact, during 2017.  If she had, I think I would have done so many things to either prevent or reduce the impact of the pain, agony, and disappointment that I experienced this year.  Or … alternatively, I would have found a way to burrow under the covers and hibernate for most of this year, not waking until the proverbial corner had been turned and it was safe, again, to come out and experience the warmth of the sun.

However, I did not have the opportunity to hibernate – or run away – but live in a series of moments that were some of the hardest, most painful, ones I have yet to have experienced.

The journey all began on March 8, 2017.  The day, itself, was marked with extreme busyness and  attention to details as my department with the school district that I was employed with, hosted a student event called Math Field Day.  I was busy with monitoring events, organizing awards and ribbons, and reviewing details.  As the last award was given and final photo was taken by a proud parents, I scurried to clean up and my boss and superintendent told me that she wanted to speak to me about something important.  Mind you, the time of this request was on or about 6:30 p.m. and I had been at work and involved with these tasks since at least 7:30 a.m. – ah, the life of a school administrator.  She (my boss) had me go to the main building of this school, having the site custodian let us in to a random teacher’s room (who interestingly was still on campus for this event and came in, briefly, as she started her conversation).  She led with a diversion, or so it seemed, about a potential leave of absence of one of my staff members, and then she announced, “It is a very hard decision for me to make but after much thought I have decided that I am taking your name to the school board tomorrow night to recommend your dismissal at the end of the school year.”  Wait …. What???!!! Did I hear that right?!  For dismissal?  Is this really happening?   While, yes, my superintendent had had issue with some of the things that I had done (mostly because I was successful with the varied experience and skill I had brought to this position), I had done absolutely everything she had asked and beyond.  No word had been spoken to me about any concerns she may have had since my one and only evaluation for this district on July 2, 2016.  (I had been with the district since February 19, 2015). If you are an educator, the dates may seem significant and I really did not have an official job evaluation each school year as outlined in education code.  I was stunned to say the least!  I asked, “What grounds are being used for dismissal?”  “Well …”, she stammered, “You are just not a fit for this school district. All you have to do is find another job and then resign from this one and that’s how it will work.”  I asked about a couple more specifics; she shared and I rebutted.  She shared another example; I shared facts and data to support my completion of aforementioned.  Point … counterpoint … point … counterpoint.  And then, I decided to stop the volleying back and forth, grab the “ball”, and run.  “Do you need a minute to compose yourself?,” she asked, pushing a box of kleenex in my direction.  “No”, I replied, “I’m fine!.”  (And no, I was not fine, I was actually mad as Hell but of course I was not going to give her the satisfaction of seeing any emotion from myself.)  Flashbacks of the way I was bullied and mistreated ran through my head.  All the belittling and harsh words that were carefully orchestrated to be shared behind closed doors and only when I was present.  The manipulation of all work I did to be twisted as “wrong” and needed to be reworked and replaced within one of her pre-created yellow and blue templates.  I had swallowed so many words before this moment … did exactly what I was asked to do … stopped sharing my opinions the minute a stern glance was sent my way.  Flashbacks served as an “I told you so …” from my gut and intuition.  I thought I could keep such fate at bay with my attempts at compliance but I my stubbornness and perseverance were soon to be sorely defeated.

The next few days … weeks even … are now a blur.  The board meeting occurred and a 3-2 vote was cast in favor of letting me go.  My phone was on fire and all wires were burning via phone calls, text and Facebook messages.  I was wronged; I was innocent.  I did not break any laws and did all the things I was told.  I had improved systems and test scores and forged relationships with staff, teachers, students, and parents and it did not matter – not one iota!  Surely, good will prevail I thought.  I will either not lose this job … or something even better will come along before June 30th.

I began my job search journey almost immediately.  I polished the dust off my resume; reactivated some job search accounts.  I was ready to find that next, right job although I have to admit that I had hoped by some miracle – enveloped in denial – that I would miraculously not lose this job.  I had support of many caring, dedicated professionals at my workplace.  I felt, however, that I was diagnosed with a fatal, deadly disease and hospice was just around the corner.  Many did not know what to even say to me when they saw me.  I received more hugs and pats on the back (as well as kind words) during that time period than I have for most of my adult life.  Everyone knew … many agreed it was wrong and evil … most knew it was driven just by one person.  I had brave souls come forward and send emails and speak on my behalf at board meetings.  Yet, the decision was not going to reverse itself.

I submitted several online applications and the first few jobs, I received what would end up being over 100 letters, stating, “Thank you for taking the time to apply for the position XYZ, for the XYZ School District. We were very impressed with the quality of the candidates who applied for the position. Unfortunately, you were not selected to continue on to the next level of this recruitment process. We appreciate your interest and the time and effort that you invested in applying for this position and wish you success in your future endeavors.”  In essence … it’s not you, it’s me (us); you’re just not the right “fit”.  So, I tried … again … and again … and again …

A few months into this journey, I learned that there is a secret club that exists and no one really talks about.  It is similar to the “The Dead Mothers’ Club” that I heard about while watching a HBO documentary.  This documentary, that included interviews of famous people whose mothers had died, outlined that one really did not understand living and surviving the loss of a mother until one actually experienced.  Having lost both of my parents and several significant family members, I would agree that this premise is true.  Therefore, the new secret club that I joined (or was involuntarily signed up for) was “School Administrators Dismissed Without Good Cause” Club.  I had a couple of close friends who had experienced their names taken to board as mine was and they became compassionate and truly empathetic listeners.  Their advice was on target.  Immediately, I applied any advice or counsel I received.

In May, I finally landed a couple of interviews.  I purchased some new accessories and clothes for this latest job search endeavor.  I had always been told that I interview well.  I secured several jobs before this one.  I was confidant.  I went to the first interview, second interview, third interview, and for at least one of them, I was invited back for a second.  The other two, I waited the appropriate amount of time and did not receive the awaited phone call.  Soon, an email would come, stating that I was not chosen for the position.  I went to the second interview, wearing a different suit and accessories, yet still quite confident.  However, the end of the week, I received the dreaded phone call from the HR secretary, stating, “Mr. XYZ wanted me to call you and let you know that a different candidate was selected.  We are sorry.”  Again, it’s not you, it’s us; you’re just not a fit.

A slight crack in my confidence seemed to appear – similar to a small rock hitting a car windshield – ever so slightly – the crack spread – slowly, carefully, with one rejection after the other.  I still hung onto hope with the coming of June which would be my final month with the school district.  At this time, I was in alignment with Kubler-Ross’ stages of grieving and I oscillated between denial, bargaining, and anger – sometimes all at once, circling like a cyclone.  While searching for a job, I was also carrying out my duties as director as if my final prize would be a big button, proclaiming how I righteously did all that I was told to and following all the rules in spite of how I was being wronged.  I know that there was a part of me who really believed that a miracle may happen and that I wouldn’t be released.  Yet, I applied and applied.  Sprinkled in during this time were a few interviews, and followed by numerous rejection letter/emails again … again … and again …  The crack in my confidence was widening, deepening, spreading out of control that soon a myriad of spider web cracks were visible versus one small, tiny line that first appeared.

June 30, 2017 …my last day … came … went … and I did not have a job.  I had several applications simmering and an occasional interview scheduled.  However, when July 31st came around, I had no game plan for a paycheck.  So, I filed a claim for unemployment benefits.  I had never filed before.  Because I was somewhat bullied or strong-armed into resigning versus and official, final board decision to let me go, I had lots of explaining through email and phone interviews to gain final approval for benefits.  Phew!  Or so I thought … until I realized that the maximum I would get per month would be only 22% of the salary that I was used to take home.  How was I going to afford my car, phone, rent, utilities?!?!  I’ve had a lifetime, literally, of being the main bread earner and I could see no other possibility other than finding a job as soon as possible – but the rejection letters kept coming.

With this move to the Los Angeles area, I had taken on the role, again, of being the main source of income with Andres, Thomas’ son, completing his Associates’ and currently working locally in a job paying minimum wage and Thomas’ decision to return to school.  I was able to afford such a position and support such a choice but without this job and salary, I did not know how to sustain such an arrangement.  Almost immediately, I cashed out a 403b for retirement that I had started a couple of years, prior.  In addition, I knew a check was coming to pay out my vacation days — days that I had been hoarding, saving, counting and recounting since I was given my marching orders in March.  I still clung to the hope that I would very soon secure a new position just in time for the start of a new school year.

To be continued … to find out the rest of the story, please check out Part II.