It really doesn't take much to go from happy and fully challenged in a great career to unemployed and concerned about keeping a roof over your head.
Last night, as the temps dipped, I listened to the scanner and heard units 6522 and 6525 rounding up homeless by the van-load and transporting them to missions and shelters. God be with those guys! Unfortunately, each time I heard them head for a shelter with a group, I prayed I wouldn't be in that number any time in the near future.
On December 9, I was laid off. Due to a needed business reorganization caused by the economy and shifting markets in my employer's industry, head count was reduced. I was in the reduction. Sure, I got a severance package, but it won't last long with a mortgage, tax bill due, homeowner's and flood insurance payments coming up, utilities, medical bills (and the cost of Cobra), food, etc. Sure, I can downsize, but most credible landlords want employed tenants.
I am a learning and development strategist and developer. My career has spanned over 15 years in adult learning, instructional design, facilitation, learning program management, learning strategy, needs analysis and organizational effectiveness. For the last six years, I was privileged to have “the dream job” – I worked from home for a large global professional services firm managing national initiatives. That ride ended on December 9. It was rather daunting to discover that all of that and a weekly phone call with get me $284 per week in unemployment. And if you accept even a menial job it is deducted from your unemployment unless it is paid “under the table”. (My integrity and ethics make me shudder at that phrase.)
The niche that my career fits into is not routinely available in New Orleans. This city does not support the corporate structures and home offices that utilize learning and people development professionals. Hence, I'm facing leaving my beloved city to find employment. My job hunt is nationwide. That's a whole different set of stress factors – selling my home without knowing where I'm going being the biggest one. (I keep envisioning signing the closing papers, with my car packed with what it will hold and my 4 pets, and sleeping in rest stops on America's interstates as I drive from city to city seeking employment.)
How many of our city's homeless started out like me, gainfully employed and viewed as a productive citizen? We probably don't even have an accurate count of the true homeless. I would bet there are scads of others out there who, in really inclement weather, can still prevail on a friend or relative for a sofa or floor space to sleep indoors, but who can't permanently move-in. So in good weather they wander.
Or how many in our city are moving daily from sofa to sofa, friend to friend because they're still searching for work, have given up searching, or are employed in a job that doesn't pay enough to meet bills like rent?
Sure, I have savings. Look at your budget and figure out how long your savings will last (even on Ramen noodles, no cable, no luxuries of any kind). I even have separate retirement savings. But hey – I'm 57 – if I run through all of that now and find a lower paying job for the next nine to 12 years, I'm going to have a pretty dire retirement if I live long enough. I don't live a high-falutin' lifestyle. My car is paid for (a 2004 Hyundai); I don't buy clothes; I don't have electronic gadgets like Wii's or X-boxes; my furniture came primarily from Rooms To Go in bits and pieces.
For those of you who say that those on the streets are our mentally ill, incapable of caring for themselves, think before you say that. Were they always that way? Let me tell you – face months of unemployment with the standard bills of an employed lifestyle and you quickly also face depression, anxiety and panic attacks, anti-social behavior, exclusion from activities (which leads to deeper depression and more anxiety) and eventually what many would term “mental illness”.
So – anyone who is currently employed, do whatever you have to to stay that way. For anyone else in my situation, I hear ya, buddy. For anyone who can employ anyone like me – CONTACT ME.
And when you see a homeless person, or hear 6522 and 6525 mercifully pulling them out of the weather, dig down inside and consider what it would take for you to be in their shoes. With very few exceptions, I'd say not much.
