My job-separation saga started over a year ago when the head of my department at a nonprofit broke the news. She wanted a better life-work balance and had submitted her letter of resignation to the organization’s president. I couldn’t blame her. The organization had run her ragged. Her departure represented a huge blow to my department that prompted a slew of other departures later on.
Not too long after that, I discovered the ugly truth during a planning meeting after her exit – that my position wasn’t funded all the way through 2008. It was a short-term gift by one of the organization’s funders. That’s when the panic started to set in. I figured that all good things must come to an end. What began as the perfect job for me with some of the best bosses I’d ever had unravelled into a less-than-ideal situation.
Just a week later, my immediate boss announced his resignation, indicating his desire to start his own communications firm now that his kids were out of college.
Soon, it was just me and a part-time interactive producer and an army of consultants with dollar signs in their eyes who seemed to be exacerbating — not helping — the situation.
Despite the chaos and uncertainty, I managed to persevere, racking up a number of impressive accomplishments, thanks to my former bosses who gave me the freedom to plant seeds that eventually flowered.
Six months later, my last nerve had been worn. They finally brought in help in the form of department head. She had ideas of her own — including hiring her own consultants — to “save” the organization from itself. Needless to say, I couldn’t help but be a little insulted by her presumptions. After a mere month of being my superior, she “terminated” me for not being a team worker. Just a week or so earlier, I had secured a front-page above-the-fold placement in USA Today for the organization.
It brought back memories of an even worse meltdown at an organization that gave me my very first public relations job, one that took a mere eight months to secure. The departing communications manage revealed to me that the president was “difficult” sometimes, causing a rumbling to erupt from my stomach. I still didn’t care. It was a dream job to me. But a month later, it quickly became a nightmare when nearly the entire research department — the core of the organization — and half its board left. I was forced to take a $10,000-a-year pay cut after the board member who secured the grant underwriting my salary walked out the door. Six months later, I paid my first visit to the local unemployment office. Financial woes had prompted my employer to lay me off.
So, losing my job now is nothing tragic. I know the drill. I’ve come to expect that no job is for life. My mother says that since I’m a Gemini, I’m not supposed to be at the same employer for that long. Yeah, whatever. The other day I got a call from a former colleague. She said, “I know you’re jumping up and down about the news.” I had no idea what she was talking about. Then, I heard. My former boss of one month had left the organization after a mere six months. Funny how things turn out, huh?
Image by: Daquella Manera
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