Well, I guess now I have more freetime
Jun. 26th, 2002 11:47 amI found out this morning that they're closing the place where I work. Which means as of right now I'm currently unemployed.
Shock doesn't even begin to describe it. I knew the school was in a tight spot but I was told - truthfully - that we had until December at least before things might get dire. But apparently we were all wrong.
stakebait asked if I was freaked and I had to tell her that it's in the post. I've got unemployment coming up and a little bit of a severance which will get me by for the move into my new place, so right now oddly enough with all the apt. crap going on this is actually not unlike a paid vacation. But this respite comes with a balloon payment because once the move is done I'll have to get a job and that's always freaky.
Right now I'm mostly sad. The school that I worked for was a special one. We taught homeless people, people living in shelters, disabled people, youth at risk, battered women and so on how to use computers so that they could become self-sufficient. We got our money from gov't grants which helped keep the place afloat, albeit barely. Yeah, some of the students were a pain like the ones I was complaining about yesterday, but for the most part easily 99% of them were wonderful people that made it a joy for me to go into work.
I remember - and I might have even posted about this here - when our last batch of youth at risk students finished their programs and I was writing recommendations for them. I was so proud of these kids - many of them parents - who'd done jail time, or at least been arrested, and who faced a life where God knows they'd make more money dealing drugs or what have you than they ever would in an office, but they still applied themselves and learned the skills and were so proud of themselves as they learned, and then encouraged their friends to do the same. I remember when we had a little ceremony for them and one of the girls went around to everybody in the building she could find encouraging them to have a slice of cake to celebrate with her.
And then there were the older students - people who got laid off when they were in their 50s and 60s and still had to get a job but had no skills to get one that would pay for food and rent. So many of them started out so scared to touch a computer that their hands literally shook as they tried to use the mouse - then they would graduate so confident that they would spontaneously pat the new students on the back and tell them "Don't worry - if I can learn it, you can learn it."
We had battered women who had never been told a nice thing in their lives who would sit quietly, scared to ask questions, and then slowly realized that the people at the school - students and teachers both liked them, enjoyed their company, and believed in them.
We used to have silly little monthly contests like "guess how many jelly beans are in the jar" and one of those women won - the prize was just a little bamboo plant that only cost about $20 - and she was so moved she couldn't even process it. Nobody had ever given her anything nice before. She kept trying to give it back, saying surely somebody else deserved it more. When she took the plant home that night she was cradling it against her chest.
So, yeah - I'll be freaked that I'm unemployed. That's definitely going to happen. But right now I'm just sad. This was literally the only place that took care of these people. I'm not even saying "like that", I'm saying at all. Nobody else would put up with all the stupid hoops that the gov't grants made us go through (said hoops being part of our downfall b/c very often we never got all of the grant money) and nobody else would take the time to teach these students. Thanks to the stupid gov't grant people we weren't getting many new students anyway - there was no money to give them - but in a way that's really my point. The students we taught are going to be okay, but what about the new ones? What about all those kids, men and women out there who are just getting started going to do?
Me? I graduated from Ivy League. I've got computer skills and a pretty okay resume. I'll have to pour some blood, sweat and tears into finding a job but I'll eventually be okay.
All those other students, though? Who knows. I wish I could tell them all how sorry I am that I can't be there for them. I wish that I could.
Shock doesn't even begin to describe it. I knew the school was in a tight spot but I was told - truthfully - that we had until December at least before things might get dire. But apparently we were all wrong.
Right now I'm mostly sad. The school that I worked for was a special one. We taught homeless people, people living in shelters, disabled people, youth at risk, battered women and so on how to use computers so that they could become self-sufficient. We got our money from gov't grants which helped keep the place afloat, albeit barely. Yeah, some of the students were a pain like the ones I was complaining about yesterday, but for the most part easily 99% of them were wonderful people that made it a joy for me to go into work.
I remember - and I might have even posted about this here - when our last batch of youth at risk students finished their programs and I was writing recommendations for them. I was so proud of these kids - many of them parents - who'd done jail time, or at least been arrested, and who faced a life where God knows they'd make more money dealing drugs or what have you than they ever would in an office, but they still applied themselves and learned the skills and were so proud of themselves as they learned, and then encouraged their friends to do the same. I remember when we had a little ceremony for them and one of the girls went around to everybody in the building she could find encouraging them to have a slice of cake to celebrate with her.
And then there were the older students - people who got laid off when they were in their 50s and 60s and still had to get a job but had no skills to get one that would pay for food and rent. So many of them started out so scared to touch a computer that their hands literally shook as they tried to use the mouse - then they would graduate so confident that they would spontaneously pat the new students on the back and tell them "Don't worry - if I can learn it, you can learn it."
We had battered women who had never been told a nice thing in their lives who would sit quietly, scared to ask questions, and then slowly realized that the people at the school - students and teachers both liked them, enjoyed their company, and believed in them.
We used to have silly little monthly contests like "guess how many jelly beans are in the jar" and one of those women won - the prize was just a little bamboo plant that only cost about $20 - and she was so moved she couldn't even process it. Nobody had ever given her anything nice before. She kept trying to give it back, saying surely somebody else deserved it more. When she took the plant home that night she was cradling it against her chest.
So, yeah - I'll be freaked that I'm unemployed. That's definitely going to happen. But right now I'm just sad. This was literally the only place that took care of these people. I'm not even saying "like that", I'm saying at all. Nobody else would put up with all the stupid hoops that the gov't grants made us go through (said hoops being part of our downfall b/c very often we never got all of the grant money) and nobody else would take the time to teach these students. Thanks to the stupid gov't grant people we weren't getting many new students anyway - there was no money to give them - but in a way that's really my point. The students we taught are going to be okay, but what about the new ones? What about all those kids, men and women out there who are just getting started going to do?
Me? I graduated from Ivy League. I've got computer skills and a pretty okay resume. I'll have to pour some blood, sweat and tears into finding a job but I'll eventually be okay.
All those other students, though? Who knows. I wish I could tell them all how sorry I am that I can't be there for them. I wish that I could.