I like to sleep at night. You probably do as well. I may be awake far into the wee hours, more of a night owl than a morning lark but when the time comes, I prefer to sleep with a clear conscience. Someday, like all, I will stand for judgement.
So, this week, after deep soul searching, pondering, and a great deal of what I would call hostility (not on my part), I quit my job with the courage of my convictions.
My primary occupation is writing and that’s going strong. The day job was a nice way to add a bit of money in these expensive times to augment my widow’s social security that I now receive.
I liked the job in the beginning – liked working with those who called in and helping them solve their problems. I won’t name the company but turns out, that wasn’t supposed to be the focus of my job. No, as I was told, it was to sell them products or services they neither wanted nor needed and often could not afford. When I protested that this was not made clear when I was hired nor in the two-week training period, I was scoffed at and told that I was wrong. Perhaps but it’s certainly not the vision of the job I had.
A few weeks ago, one of the supervisors said that we were supposed to “leave your heart at the door.”
That was problematic for me.
Day after day, I put on a headset and took calls from all across the country, talking to people and doing the best I could to assist them in their individual circumstances. Some needed to end their services – for valid reasons. One I recall was a man who’d lost his home in a fire, another woman who still is not back in her badly damaged home after Hurricane Ida. Some were moving due to circumstances beyond their control with no forwarding address. Or perhaps the account holder was moving into a residential care facility or had died. Many stated they could not afford the rising costs and I understand that. Many called to remove additional services added to their account without their agreement.
The daily thanks and many compliments I received from customers who liked what I did for them were many but alas, that was not enough to satisfy the powers that were.
Daily “coaching” sessions with the occasional write-up began and I endured. But on Tuesday, after a lengthy session on Monday where I was asked why if I was in newspaper sales, why I wasn’t selling now. My reply was first that my understanding of my position wasn’t sales and the second that I was the editor, before that a reporter and not in sales. On occasion, when someone walked in the door and no one was available to sell an ad, of course I did but it wasn’t my primary focus. To be honest, I handled far more obituaries both with funeral homes and individuals for a great deal more money than I did in advertising. The same held true in radio and so did another important fact - in those jobs, when I sold advertising, I received the expected commission. In my recent experience, I did not – because they had along list of mitigating factors.
My work as an editor was all but mocked and when I inquired – after reading the employee handbook – whether or not my writing proposed a conflict of interest, that too was mocked and I don’t think the supervisor actually believed I’ve written novels.
On Tuesday, summoned to yet another session, this time with a “witness” in a room with a closed door, I didn't wait for the entire chastising. Instead, the moment the word “but” was used, I did what I had prepared myself to do, I handed the supervisor my lanyard, key card, and employee ID saying, “Let me save us both time and trouble – consider this my resignation.” The shock was obvious but my words came after I was asked if I understood what “a menu of services” was to which I replied, “I do – I have two college degrees, speak 3 languages, and I’m highly intelligent.” Then I handed over the lanyard and walked out with no regrets.
I stood with courage for my convictions. I could list many things that I did not feel right to do but I won’t.
So, for now, I’m back to writing full-time. I just pulled a pan of homemade brownies from the oven. I didn’t have to brave the slick, snow covered roads today.
I may work part-time if the right opportunity arises.
Anyone with questions can read Matthew 1-7 on judgement.
Or listen to one of my favorite songs, “Devil’s Waiting”, a profound and poignant song by The Black Rebel Motorcycle Club.
For those who can leave their heart at the door, that’s
theirs but it’s not my way and never will be. And money matters less than truth and faith and the right thing.
No comments:
Post a Comment