Swallowing Your Pride

I've always been one to bound right back from whatever life decided to throw at me, whether trivial or major. I tend to take things in stride knowing that my attitude and overall demeanor will carry me through those rough times.

But last Tuesday, I was let go from my [contracted] job at Company B for what the managers described as "unprofessional" behavior: showing emotion after a meeting in which the employees were informed of eventual layoffs, outsourcing, etc. There was no warning; no "Hey, we understand your frustration so let's sit down and talk it over." I was shown the door without any further explanation, no paperwork signed, nothing.

If such a meeting had taken place, I could have explained to the Powers That Be why the announcement made me so emotional: I came from making $50,000 a year as a proofreader at Company A, had full benefits, and rode the train to a job that allowed me to take full advantage of the skills that my previous job as a magazine writer gave me. The adjustment from Company A's salary to the $12/hr. pittance Company B paid me was extremely difficult and has had an impact on me financially and, as was obvious when I left the meeting, emotionally.

But I never got the chance to explain. Instead of hearing me out, I was simply told to gather my things and go home, and as of this post I have yet to hear a word from the company or the recruiter who found the job for me. (I will keep you posted if anything comes about.)

Between the Company A layoff and the time I was hired at Company B, I received three severance checks that helped keep me and my family afloat. I also filed for unemployment the day of the layoff and started job searching.

And it was then that I realized finding a job, let alone a career, would be more difficult that I had originally thought. In fact, I took the $12/hr. job just so I could have money coming in once my severance checks stopped arriving. My timing was right--I started that job the same week I got my last check.

So now I find myself right back where I was on March 31, 2009. I'm unemployed, frustrated, angered, and worried that I might not find something as quickly as I did last time. And unlike the layoff, there will be no severance checks, which prompted me to do what I never thought I'd find myself doing.

On Tuesday, I meandered into the loud, crowded, and seemingly unkempt Department of Public Social Services office in Norwalk, CA and filed the paperwork to receive food stamps. It had finally come to this.

I spent a good 4 hours in the office where I surrounded by screaming, unsupervised children and frustrated applicants trying to get answers from DPSS employees. It was a group of people that were either down on their luck like me or know how to work the system.

Regardless, I felt out of place. I shouldn't be here relying on public assistance. I'm too smart for this, don't you get it?

No. I didn't get it.

While applying for such assistance was the last thing on Earth I wanted to do, I started to put things into perspective as I sat and waited between screenings.

I have been working since I was 18, which means portions of my paychecks have gone towards funding public assistance programs for over 20 years. During that time I have only filed for unemployment once and disability once but never for food stamps. And the way I look at it, I'm certain that the system is being abused by some that simply don't want to work for a paycheck and have paid little or nothing towards public assistance.

But things are different for me this time around and rather than point my finger at the crowd of people and call them a bunch of losers, it's now my time to stand up, swallow my foolish pride, and ask for help at a time that my family so desperately needs it.

And in these uncertain times, there's no shame in that.