One year ago, I cried at work. I did not cry alone in the privacy of my office or a bathroom stall. No, I cried in front of people. I cried twice that day and it signified my acceptance of the end of a long struggle. I read the other day that, “It’s better to cry than be angry, because anger hurts others while tears flow silently through the soul and cleanse the heart.” It was like that.
I had been running off anger for quite a while. Anger that the organization I was working for was going out of business and it did not have to be that way. Anger that people who had control were using it in a way that did not improve matters, but mostly, anger over the fact that no one was listening to me and my brilliant ideas. I had so much insight and so little ability to influence others.
The truth is that I did not try to understand the business of the organization I was working for and since it catered to an elite class of people, I did not care. This disdain showed through and made my efforts, which can actually sometimes be brilliant, ineffective. In the back of my mind, I knew that I was part of the reason I was failing at that job. The tears I cried became the beginning of a transformation that I should have undertaken years ago.
A week and a half after the waterworks, I walked away from that job. I had no other prospects lined up and I did not know what I was going to do to meet my obligations. I did know that I could not stay where I was. Back then, I thought that last sentence meant that I could not stay in that job. I realize now that it meant I could not continue living my life the same.
One year later and I would say that I am just as busy now as I was then, but in a completely different way. I am working again – one level down in an organization about which I do care. I am learning to be part of a team. I am learning how to do my job as well as I can and not worry so much about what others are doing. I am learning how to take time to teach those who work with me. Most importantly, I am learning to go home at the end of the day and spend my free time on other things.
For many people, these things come naturally, but for me this is just another life skill I had to learn from scratch. I will say that my financial position is a little more difficult to navigate, but I will also say that we were not being mindful of our resources. Having less income is forcing a certain focus that keeps our most important priorities in sight, as they should be.
Overall, my life is better. In my twenties, I remember complaining to my mom about all the hours I had to work and all the time I was away from family and friends. She gently pointed out that it was my choice. At the time, I rejected that notion – it was not my choice – I was in a demanding career and those are the hours you work and anyway, as Andy in The Devil Wears Prada says, “I didn’t have a choice!”
Now, 25 years later, I can finally agree with my mother. How I live is my choice, tradeoffs and all. Whether or not that is primarily because of white privilege, I do not know, but I do know that I was able to make changes and survive. As this year of metamorphosis comes to its conclusion, I look forward to building on the great start I finally achieved.
