You are not your job title - an open letter to people who lost their jobs today

Today 18 people lost their jobs at Luther Seminary. (More to come, they say.) Luther Seminary is where we lived for six years, where Bob got his degree, where I got my friends, and where the kids got their introduction to cross cultural education.

Last count is about two million people in the U.S.A. have been unemployed for 99 months or more.

They are my people.

Yes, I am gainfully employed. Yes, I have a decent salary and benefits. Yes, even at my age. Yes, we are fairly financially secure. (Never mind that we traded in spring break for a new dishwasher and other household repairs. We know that we are the lucky ones. All it takes is to look at average income data which I do all the time these days in my grant writing role.)

But I'll always align myself with the people who were dismissed, dissolved, terminated, eliminated, laid off, fired, resigned, or whatever the proper term du jour is. And I'll pretty much always believe it wasn't their fault. If there's one thing I wish I could say to all the people who lost their jobs today at Luther Seminary, or anywhere, it's this: it had nothing to do with you. It's about the leadership and lack thereof. However that's no solace at all because when you lose both your income and your sense of vocation in one fell swoop, it has everything to do with you. It's unfair. It sucks. And possibly the very worst part about it is how it affects your family.

I have a file in my personal email account called "Happy Sunny Future" in which I saved all the emails pertaining to my severance negotiations. It was a horrible process I likened to dealing with the devil. It's been approximately four years and two months since all that awful communication flew back and forth, and it still makes me feel sick, although less sick now. One of the conditions was that I couldn't write about my lay off or else my family would loose the departure allowance we depended on. So I didn't write about it, even though one of my MFA classmates said that whenever you're told not to write about something that's precisely what you should be writing about. The former employer bogeyman could still be out there, but right now I'm just feeling bad for the 18 people at Luther Seminary. And the two million people across the nation. And the uncounted people around the world with no source of income, and a ginormous source of self-doubt.

I remember when I got the first official email from the human resources director that would start the official negotiation. This email came a day after I'd been notified that my position was eliminated. I was prepared for that email, thanks to a wonderful job coach, but Bob wasn't. I knew that the email would come as a business letter that would delineate me as an outsider, even though just hours before I was an insider. I'd been an insider for over 15 years. (Red light.) Bob expected that first post-termination email from my former HR department to be on our side, to be personal, to be sympathetic. After all, it had been just been one year after the very same HR team had fought mightily for our insurance benefits to cover his liver failure medical expenses (insurance was trying to get out of it). You can imagine how grateful we were (are) for that. But still, when that email came and Bob opened it up only to find a cold hard business letter, it really bothered him. And it bothered me that it bothered him. I didn't care if they treated me like crap, but it made me sick that the foulness of the event infected my husband too. It's one thing for yourself to be ousted; it sucks that your whole family is ousted. Loosing your job is that.

And yet Bob was my financial safety net. What about those who have no financial safety net? Loosing your job is that too.

I don't know the story behind the Luther Seminary lay offs. I have a feeling it has something to do with incompetence and ego. It usually does, yet no one ever knows the full story. That's what I learned in my own process. There's a lot of secrecy and hush hush and blaming and bashing, but in the end no one really knows what happened except for the exact people who lost their jobs. Due to the fact that they are now outsiders, they no longer have credibility and so the truth floats away like a puff of cigarette smoke. After a while it doesn't matter. Until you think about the 2,000,018 people without work.

I wish I had some words of wisdom to offer to the out of work folks. I mostly don't, but there's a big part of me that wants to give it a try so here goes:

1. You are not your job title. Even if you didn't lose your job, I suggest you find a way to define yourself that is *not* your job title. You are so much more.

2. Apply for unemployment benefits immediately. Find out what else you qualify for. Fill out a form to get your kids on reduced school lunch fees. Apply for SNAP (food stamps). You paid into all this stuff and now it's your time to use it. Don't feel bad for one minute. You and your family need it.

3. Depend on the kindness of others. Ouch. This hurts us proud independent people. But if you can find a way to get help to pay the bills, accept it. Pay it forward when you can. The fact is, we need each other.

4. Network, network, network. After a week or so of absorbing the shock, get dressed and get out there and meet people. Networking is all about listening to other people and learning their stories. Contrary to popular belief, you don't even have to talk so much. Just show up and ask a couple questions. You can do it. Volunteer somewhere. Join a club. Get involved at church. Meeting people is the number one way you'll get a new job, I'm convinced.

5. You will survive and thrive. And you'll be stronger, smarter, and more creative than you were before. But don't worry about that now. For now, grieve. (I watched the entire boxed set of "Providence" in my pajamas with my lovely daughter. It felt good. Do something that feels good.) Don't drive yourself crazy with sorting out "fairness" and such. Make yourself move forward.

For whatever that's worth, I offer it up. My thoughts and prayers and strength goes out to all of you who lost a job today.

With love from yours truly,

Natural Born Bleeding Heart