In the past six months I’ve left a job because it wasn’t a good fit and stopped writing for a publication to pursue other interests. Yet after reading Walt Crawford’s post about honesty, I feel it oddly necessary to say, no, really: in my case, in this situation, that’s just how things went down. He wasn’t talking about me — it was just an uncanny coincidence that the wording and examples were so similar — and I shouldn’t worry about it, but his post did make me think.
Walt frames his post as a discussion about honesty, but it could also be framed around our comfort levels with disclosure, because there’s one more crucial option beyond being honest or dishonest. It’s not necessary to lie; you don’t have to say anything at all.
We don’t owe it to anyone else to underscore when we’ve really screwed up or what our skeeziest qualities are. I buy jeans that flatter me, rather than buying jeans that make it obvious that I am not only short but longwaisted in an odd troll-doll way, and I appreciate how turtlenecks cover up those lines in my neck. I think of this minor editing as one woman’s modest contribution to the global mise en scene.
I remember reviewing a cover letter written by a new librarian who listed why she wasn’t qualified for the job she was applying for. “No, no, NO!” I told her. Oy! Everyone has limitations, but if you want a job, start by telling the employer what you can offer them. Best foot forward is not a lie.
Yes, I tell you when I get turned down by a writing retreat center, or when I have three more rejections, but that’s par for the course; if I’m not getting rejected, I’m not sending stuff to good places, and as for that writing center — well, all I can say is they just don’t know what they’re missing. (I also did not win the Nobel Prize, but Doris Lessing, as she points out, is very old, so I completely understand.)
But the wheels of life are made smoother by strategic omissions, such as “What a baby!” and “Everyone raves about your book!” If you want to state quite simply, “I am no longer at Elysian University, and I’m looking for work,” that’s all right. If you want to share, that’s all right, too. Though set it aside for a bit, if you can; time has a way of making setbacks taste less bitter. In an essay I’m revising, “Falling In,” I set the immortal words of one military training instructor to free verse:
The Screaming
You don’t get it toGETHer
Yer ass gon’ be on ROLLerskates
Right outta LACKland
— Sergeant Santera, Lackland AFB, August, 1983
I can laugh now, but at the time, the idea of getting tossed from Basic Training terrified me; I had already failed in other parts of my life, and I was one of the many lost souls looking for what felt like a last chance.
Sometimes a little less honesty is a good long-range strategy. More than a few times librarian friends have asked me to review letters of resignation. I always encourage them to let it all hang out; to say exactly what they think; to list every significant thing wrong with their workplace and their boss… and then to take that letter home and hide it away, and write a polite note thanking the library for the opportunity to learn and grow, and so on and so forth. (The impolite letter can be very helpful when the shine wears off your new job; pull it out and remind yourself that your FPOW wasn’t perfect, either.)
To start with, whether or not you list them on your forms, your former bosses are your next reference. It’s really a small profession, once you boil it down to people with your skills in your specialty and your time in grade and preferred geographical locations. Be smart.
Not only that, but sometimes you are wrong and they are right. I look back at disputes and differences with former employers, and much as it stings to admit it, with benefit of experience, in some cases I can see their point. I imagine I’ve tried the patience of many a boss who decided to take a deep breath and focus on my strengths. So a little papering-over is not only smart, but sometimes kind, in a collective let’s-take-care-of-one-another way.
Oh, and it gets better — because that issue of “fitness” is key as well. We make choices based on “fit” all the time. (What’s matchmaking about, after all?) Most of us, reviewing job opportunities, consciously or unconsciously toss 95% of them in the reject pile. All of us have the potential to do many things, but we have to pick carefully. That’s my classic half-century lesson: at 50, I’m aware that time is a non-renewable resource.
If you don’t like your job, leave open the possibility that just maybe, you’re unhappy because you aren’t where you should be. I left the military over “fit.” I was competent, I had a good career path ahead of me, and it just wasn’t right. I left a PhD program, walking away from a fellowship, over “fit.” And this year I left a job over “fit,” even though I felt competent in the position, was learning a lot, made good money, and liked many of the people I worked with.
(At this point every gay or transgendered person reading this post is nodding in recognition, because we know the short-term cost, but the long-term gain, of living life by our own equations of the heart.)
Most of us have a lot of guilt buttons about employment, and deciding that you’re leaving for no other reason than your happiness can be tough; yet in every case, when I had made the decision to leave, the 800-pound-elephant got off my back. [Mixed metaphor! That would be small, by elephantine standards] But sometimes, you don’t realize why you were so unhappy until long after that elephant has lumbered away… so leave open the possibility that “It’s not you, it’s me” is not just a comfortable social fiction, but the hardcore truth.
And the hardcore truth may set you free; but whether you should share it with several billion of your closest friends is a call only you can make.
First I checked my horoscope and then I read your post. I feel sufficiently flicked in the forehead… at least for today.
Ruth, I have to ask: what did your horoscope say?
http://myskitch.com/utopianlibrary/101507-20071015-065723.jpg
🙂
Wow! Maybe I’m in the wrong business..!
Amen! I’ll add that sometimes you can be competent in a job, doing well, and learning a lot, but it’s not until something wakes you up and forces you to leave that you weren’t in that great a position to begin with. For myself, I didn’t realize just how much I was stagnating, and my new job has opened up a whole new world for me (much as I miss pieces of the old one).
Hindsight is 20/20 for a reason – use it! Learn and move on, because what’s the alternative really? I’m about a decade behind you, Karen, but I totally agree that life is too short to dwell on negativity and live in the vortex.
Jenny, that applies so broadly, too! Life, relationships, etc. Change is painful… but there’s nothing like realizing you can breathe and see again.
“Because I’ve been in my comfort zone for years” is about the best reason I can think of for quitting 🙂
Worked for me, anyway. I would have learned a lot had I stayed at some of my previous jobs … but I’ve learned so much more since I left.
Yeah, confusing unhappiness with stagnation is another issue. Good point, Genny! (Can’t wait to see you at IL!)
Thank you for this. I left a PhD program in the last year because it wasn’t a good fit, and then left a job that was a wonderful fit because the personal sacrifices required were just too great. I’m in a new position now, and am trying to determine whether it’s a good fit – or if it’s good enough for now (kind of like the $6 sandals I buy in the summer because I know I’m going to wear them out anyway).
*applause*
A little over three years ago, I left library school… mostly over “fit.” (The rest had to do with being a horrible student.) That action motivated me to make it eventually work. Since last month, I have been back at the “scene of the crime,” and not much has changed. Even with completely different people, the “fit” factor is about the same. I know that the only road to success this time is complete self-change. However, I don’t have “options” available to me to make that easier. I know that what I’m doing right now isn’t going to get me where I want to go in my career. My #1 motivation for the past three years has been not becoming homeless. (There’s a point in there somewhere, but I don’t know what it is.)
The “fit” thing is something I’m struggling with at the moment. I think it’s also very important to be honest when you’re dealing with a major change. There can be moments where things feel like a bad fit, when in reality it may be difficulty adjusting to the wider range of personalities and types within the institution – and at the same time, missing those left at the old job.
Personally, I don’t know yet which it is for me, which seems to tell me that it’s probably adjustment over fit. Is the fit as good as at the old job? Not yet, and it may never be, but it was time to move on.
Laura, you make good points.
I spent a while exploring “fit” at my new job before I came to my conclusion. I had come from a job that felt just right, so the difference was marked, and became more so as time went on. How long to wait out the “fit” question is also deeply personal.
It’s not just about people, either. It can be about workload, tasks, and other angles. Even values.
Also, not to be ageist, but workers with less experience in the workforce might be advised to keep their chin up a while and see if things settle down. But after thirty years in the full-time workforce, I’m more certain of when something isn’t right.
To me the proof is in the pudding. I’m much happier at MPOW… I’m back to my old self.
Miss E., if those $6 sandals work for you now… sounds like a beautiful relationship, whether or not it lasts.