11:17 p.m. - 2007-10-10
I didn't sign up for this
I feel drained and sad.
I got into non profit so I could help people, make my corner of the world a better place, avoid lying and manipulation as a career (my degree is more or less in advertising, although it is also sort of in journalism). I got into non profit because I care about poor people.
Today, I had to inform one of my employees who makes a low hourly wage, and who is a grandmother with several family members under her care, that her hours are being cut from almost full time to about 10 hours per week. She is the only income earner in her home. She is a lovely, kind, caring woman. But her skills are limited and she has been with our agency so long that the job was basically tailored to what she could and couldn't do. Over time a lot of things were arranged to accomodate her. She knows this and has pursued her work diligently and gratefully.
She cried the entire meeting. And I cried as soon as I left work. Hard. I feel absolutely horrible. It really wasn't my decision - well, that's not true. It was my decision, but there was no other choice that made any sense at all. It's a long story and I'm too sad and tired to go into it, but there was really nothing that could be done about it.
If you think you want to be in management (as I have always thought I did, and actually still do, even though this is just disgusting business to have to do) it is important to realize that no matter how noble your work is, no matter how much you take care to avoid working somewhere that is considered "cut throat", budgets are still budgets and money is still money and sometimes you have to do the exact opposite of what you feel is right. I felt like Satan today, cutting off a low-income family from their life line.
I spent two hour calling around, searching craigslist and monster and everywhere else to find jobs for her to apply for. I called every persn I could think of who might be able to help her find another part time job to cover the huge gaping hole I created. Maybe something will work out, maybe not. I typed everything up and left it in an envelope on her desk, not caring in the slightest that I was using "agency time" to go about something very clearly on agency related. One, because my boss loves me and would never care and partly because I felt like it was the only way I could scream out at the world "I WILL NOT BE RESPONSIBLE FOR RUINING THIS WOMAN'S LIFE!!!!!"
Next week I will be in California with my boss accepting an award that I won and riding roller coasters in Disneyland. And my sweet grandma of an employee will be wrought with worry and sick with dread. I'm kind of a socialist when it comes to this kind of thing. I don't mean that we should all be making the same amount of money and share everything in the world. But she has done her job as well as I have done mine. Mickey Mouse ears versus food stamp applications...well, it seems really fucking unfair.
