weekend post coming soon
Took a weekend get away with 'A,' and I will update everyone soon on all that happened. but in the meantime here is a little something i wrote last wednesday, my last day at work.
Yesterday was my final day working for Children’s Aid and Family Services and to be honest with you, it felt like what I imagine being released from a long prison sentence must feel like. As I backed out of the driveway and made my way up the long hill on my way to the parkway, I felt relieved. A burden seemed to be lifted off of me. For the first time, I did not look in my rear view window as I made it up the steep hill. There was no need to look back, only forward.
I’m not going to pretend like I didn’t feel something when I left. I had gotten sick Tuesday evening and didn’t sleep at all Tuesday night (I stayed over at the job). I sat early Wednesday morning at the wooden dining room table of the job and wrote in my journal about my feelings. Before that moment I didn’t think I would miss any of the boys I worked with, thought I wouldn’t miss any part of Children’s Haven. Despite my feelings of worthlessness, feelings of no longer being a help to the boys I worked with, I realized I was making a difference. My mind took me back to the emotional farewell dinner we had. The tears that flowed from the eyes of some of the boys made me realize I was still reaching them. When I got to work on Monday, a 14 year old boy, a real challenge for us, ran up to me and hugged me. He held me so tight I couldn’t break free. His last words for me was, “I’m going to miss you and you better visit.” He hurried out of the van and went into Newark Penn Station so he could go on a home visit before he broke down in tears again. I had made a difference at this job. But it wasn’t because of the boys why I needed to leave.
Wednesday, my final day on the job, I was reminded why I was leaving. I went to the main office to drop off some papers for my supervisor to the Director and her coldness could have frozen a polar bear. No mentions of my departure, no good lucks or good-byes were offered until I said something. A co-worker I had been friendly with in the past walked past me with an attitude. She still was mad over a letter I wrote detailing her inadequate work (ok, I understand why she could be upset, but damn woman do your job). The politics of the job had beaten me down. The childish bullshit and catty chatter became a bore. But worst of all, the people in the office didn’t seem to understand nor care about the residents of the staff that worked directly with the boys. But don’t worry, I didn’t leave without starting some shit. I wrote a detailed letter to the President of the agency explaining why I was really leaving the agency and how those in the office greatly contributed to my exit.
I left knowing that I had made a difference and I would probably not be back. And I’m happy with that.
Yesterday was my final day working for Children’s Aid and Family Services and to be honest with you, it felt like what I imagine being released from a long prison sentence must feel like. As I backed out of the driveway and made my way up the long hill on my way to the parkway, I felt relieved. A burden seemed to be lifted off of me. For the first time, I did not look in my rear view window as I made it up the steep hill. There was no need to look back, only forward.
I’m not going to pretend like I didn’t feel something when I left. I had gotten sick Tuesday evening and didn’t sleep at all Tuesday night (I stayed over at the job). I sat early Wednesday morning at the wooden dining room table of the job and wrote in my journal about my feelings. Before that moment I didn’t think I would miss any of the boys I worked with, thought I wouldn’t miss any part of Children’s Haven. Despite my feelings of worthlessness, feelings of no longer being a help to the boys I worked with, I realized I was making a difference. My mind took me back to the emotional farewell dinner we had. The tears that flowed from the eyes of some of the boys made me realize I was still reaching them. When I got to work on Monday, a 14 year old boy, a real challenge for us, ran up to me and hugged me. He held me so tight I couldn’t break free. His last words for me was, “I’m going to miss you and you better visit.” He hurried out of the van and went into Newark Penn Station so he could go on a home visit before he broke down in tears again. I had made a difference at this job. But it wasn’t because of the boys why I needed to leave.
Wednesday, my final day on the job, I was reminded why I was leaving. I went to the main office to drop off some papers for my supervisor to the Director and her coldness could have frozen a polar bear. No mentions of my departure, no good lucks or good-byes were offered until I said something. A co-worker I had been friendly with in the past walked past me with an attitude. She still was mad over a letter I wrote detailing her inadequate work (ok, I understand why she could be upset, but damn woman do your job). The politics of the job had beaten me down. The childish bullshit and catty chatter became a bore. But worst of all, the people in the office didn’t seem to understand nor care about the residents of the staff that worked directly with the boys. But don’t worry, I didn’t leave without starting some shit. I wrote a detailed letter to the President of the agency explaining why I was really leaving the agency and how those in the office greatly contributed to my exit.
I left knowing that I had made a difference and I would probably not be back. And I’m happy with that.
posted by Jay at
12:00 PM
2 Comments:
Wow. I'm glad that you got to realize how much of a difference you actually made and that your efforts to actually do that weren't in vain. There's nothing worse than feeling that you have failed at what you dreamed of doing.
That shady letter to the president is priceless. I love it. lol
By
Omar Ramon, at 8:37 AM
Continue on with your head held high.
By
Ty, at 11:52 AM
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