I was feeling pretty low yesterday trying to figure out why retiring from my job (rather than being forced out as so many have been in this horrible economy) has left me so unsettled.
Perhaps that feeling comes from really believing I have been forced out of a job I love. Wisconsin's new governor, Scott Walker, is the worst thing to happen to Wisconsin in many years, and he is probably the most vile man alive when it comes to protecting fair working conditions and education. He and the Republican legislators have effectively lined the pockets of big business with money while declaring a crisis in the state budget. Yes, Wisconsin's budget is in crisis, but Walker's "Budget Repair Bill" is not the answer. Among other things, his bill strips state workers of most of their collective bargaining rights, removes even more state aid from education, and promises to change and to rob the state Retirement Trust Fund both of money and of the ways in which it distributes retirement benefits. Walker has promised he would do this, and so far he has tried to make good on every promise he has published. If he carries out his plan, I would stand to lose hundreds of thousands of retirement benefits in the next 20 years. I cannot afford taking that risk, so I had to retire now to try to preserve by rights to my retirement funds.
Rose Marie asked me yesterday if losing the potential to make almost $100,000 a year in salary is what caused me to be so upset. Undoubtedly, yes. Rick and I had planned to buy a second home in Florida, to pay it off in two years, and to have enough funds to remodel it. We found a "fixer-upper" in March, attended the inspection in April (where we learned what a true "fixer-upper it really is!), and we are set to close on it in June. The house is not large (1354 sq. ft.), but it has two bedrooms, two bathrooms, living room, dining room, kitchen, Florida room, and eventually a laundry room (as soon as we build the wall to separate that space from the one-car garage). The house comes complete with a palm tree out front, a cactus in the back yard "jungle," and what seem to be great neighbors. So what's the problem? Money, of course. With my loss of salary, we will not pay off the small mortgage even in two years, and our funds to remodel the house have been severely compromised. We will need an amount equal to the mortgage just to remodel the house, and those funds are no longer as readily available as they would be if I continued to work.
Another element that adds to my sadness is the loss of working with colleagues that I enjoy. I am an extrovert, so I like people, and I get my energy from being around people. If I end up mostly just interacting with Rick and a few others, I think I will lose my mind. I need to be with others and to feel useful and alive by helping others.
Displaced workers have told me that the worst thing about losing their jobs was losing their identity. I am afraid of that also. "What do you do?" is always the second question people who are trying to meet you ask -- after your name, of course. What do I do? "I'm a retired school teacher" sounds really foreign to me at this point. I enjoyed the respect, the power, and the self-worth that I derived from teaching for the last 29 years, and I will miss that. I am not sure I know who I am without my work.
Maybe vanity also plays into my mood. I am 57 years old. I am too young to retire! Retired school teachers are supposed to have all grey hair, lots of wrinkles, and a cane! Although the hair is a little grey at the temples, and the wrinkles have been coming on for years, I do not feel I am anywhere near the age at which I should retire. I have too much to do yet. I want to continue to teach people and to help them learn.
OK, enough self-analysis. After all, the title of this blog is "A window opens." So what's up with that?
The first window to open is the chance to return to work on a part-time basis, but at this point I should not publish my plans because I have to maintain a break from my employers for 30 days. I have no guarantees of any work for the fall at this time, but I hope that the potential is there.
The real "window" that opened actually happened on the day that I retired. Rose told me to look for signs that retiring was the right thing to do. I was still feeling pretty glum when I got home after a wonderful lunch where Rose consoled me and made me briefly smile. I did not log into my computer, and I did not try to relax. When I am really upset, I clean. Cleaning is my way of trying to gain control of my life. So I started to sweep the floors, to organize the mess in the kitchen, and to pack office items and files away.
When Rick came home from work, the first thing he does is log on to his computer. He is the one that discovered the open window. Why do I keep referring to the window? The old phrase is, "When God closes a door, he opens a window." I had made preliminary contact with Cengage Learning in the hopes that when I retired -- which was supposed to be three years from now -- I could do some editing or educational materials development for them. Once I decided to retire this semester, I made contact with the company and told them of my change of plans. I exchanged two e-mails with a woman named Elizabeth, and I sent her some PowerPoint slides that I had revised for one of their books since the slides they originally sent I thought were terrible.
The result, ironically, was the sign Rose told me to look for. Elizabeth sent me an e-mail yesterday, the very day I officially retired, offering me a freelance contract to revise PowerPoint slides for the next editions of two of their books. Both books are developmental writing texts, and both have slides that I will have to realign to the next edition and to redesign to better match the content of the new editions. The pay, I hope, is reasonable. I will make $700 per book, or $1400 for this contract. While that is not a great deal of money, at this point it is not something I want to refuse either. I am working again, and I feel good about being able to use my training and my knowledge to creatively produce a tangible product in the end.
The window God opened is in front of me. When such windows appear, we should not walk past them without a glance. We should not be afraid that the window is too dirty to see through, or that the landscape beyond the window is too foggy to reveal the details. I decided yesterday to climb through that open window. So far the ground beyond it seems firm. The landscape is still foggy, and I cannot see in which true direction I am going yet, but I can move ahead cautiously, trying to avoid slippery slopes or hidden holes that might slow my progress. As time progresses, the sun will get higher in the sky to burn off the fog, and I firmly believe that my path will become clear.
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