Monday, November 30, 2020

My story for Nancy - A life searching for purpose - not found. Sob sob Blog Posting Part III

.... A life searching for purpose - not found. Sob Sob Blog Posting Part III.  Yes, I KNOW I am going on a bit... but its my blog.  And my story!  So my choice.... 

But do not dread -  This installment has the heading.....

No job with passion, but life starts to looking up!

I LOVED America. I had told everyone in Ireland I had a job as a nanny lined up for six months. In truth that job fell through about four days before I arrived in the US. All I had was a bed with an acquaintance for three nights.

But from the moment I decided to go to the US. I was determined to be positive. And it worked. Wonderfully.

Though the Irish network I got a three month stint living-in caring for a wonderful lady who broke both her arms; she was my Jewish Mama until the day she died two years ago. (Every one in the world should find themselves a Jewish Mama - the love is so unconditional!!)

The savings set me up to stay in a hostel and look for part-time work. I found a position as a receptionist in a computer programming firm over the Easter weekend of 1987. (- As an undocumented you ask surprised! Nobody asked, I was white, English was my mother tongue and everyone loved my ´cute´ Irish accent. I opine, that my being female with the cute accent helped too.

The job was a breeze; all these gentle computer nerds could not communicate outside of computer speak, but I could talk to everyone. They loved it, the clients loved it. And I loved it. While I cannot say the job was one of passion for me, it was tra la tra la all the way. That was until six months later; Monday October 19th, 1987 to be precise. Black Monday when the world stock markets plunged.

Things changed. Far less money, far more was expected of me. I was making mistakes. - I don´t work well under pressure. I decided to hand in my notice before I made a mistake I could not get sorted out before it was discovered. But now in the spring of 1988, being undocumented was an issue, I knew I would not find another job, I would simply return to Ireland.

A big break; in early summer 1988, two weeks before I had finish working out my notice in the computer company, I got the letter. The one telling me I had won a US. Government lottery for a green card. Oh joy. Oh joy. Oh joy! It was beautiful. A lawyer said that I should give up work immediately, but don´t leave the U.S. until I was called with an appointment for an interview at the US. Embassy in Ireland. Perfect.

The money I had saved to return to Ireland I used to join a four week tour cycling from Seattle to San Francisco… Wow I was having fun. And only a month earlier my prospects looked SO much bleaker!

The week in late August 1988 that I returned from my cycling adventure I got the appointment for the US. Embassy in Ireland for January 1989. Great. I sublet my room in my apartment in New York, I headed to Ireland – and then for fun headed to England to work. I stayed with a former co-tenant in New York, and got a temp job working for six weeks in the consumer rights department of Her Majesty´s Civil Service.

(A total aside: That six weeks were great fun. My job was sending out brochures about consumer rights to people buying cars. It was truly a fun time. My two fellow envelope stuffers were most interesting characters; one Blondel a Jamaican had a daughter who was the nanny for the children of a very famous film star in the U.S. The other man was a professional actor – on a quite period as they say. He was well known too, my brother knew his name immediately as a character in the long running Dr. Who TV. programme. They both had stories to share!

At weekends I visited all the wonderful museums and art galleries in London. I packed a lot of new experiences and fun into that six weeks stint.)


Home to Ireland for Christmas the interview in the U.S. Embassy in January and back to the U.S. with the coveted Green card in February 1989.

...And Up..

Economic times in the U.S. were still hard after Black Monday in 1987. So getting a nice happy receptionist job in 1989, was not going to happen. Again through the Irish networks I got various jobs in tele-sales, house cleaning and at-home elder care.


Two apartment moves later, thanks to my new roommate, Liz, I was offered a ´great little number´. Caring, nights, for a lady, in her own home. She lived on Washington Square Park in N.Y.C. She was a sweet gentle soul, who loved MacGyver! While not a job that was for me one of passion, it gave me time to ´get settled into life´. I enjoyed working in the center of N.Y.C. I loved having my bagel and egg sandwich in Washington Square Park at 10.00 am. knowing my day´s work was finished.

I had time and energy to apply to go to college. A liberal arts ass. degree in a local community college.

A poignant occurrence there: Even with 1,500 students in the college, after three months they picked up on me – because of how I answered questions on my application form. They opined I may have ´learning difficulties´ They suggested they test me. The were right. I was shocked, saddened and delighted all at once.

Delighted: Because now I understood I did not excel at studies not because I was lazy. Being lazy in our family was such a no no. - I had been given the message as a child, that if I had only worked a little harder, and ´applied myself´I would have done fine with exams. But now I understood that was not the case.

Shocked: How was it missed at school, when this college after three months and with 1,500 students picked up on me? They opined at the college, that my English language skills were very strong, additionally I was very out-going. So I did not fit ´the picture´of someone with learning difficulties. In addition to that, because I worked VERY VERY hard, I had dragged myself up from an average F. grade up to a D. grade so that I was not red-flagged.

Saddened: More than anything, I was sad. Very very sad. Depressed even, for some three hard days. Was I the only child in the whole world who would have done better in life had I not worked so hard at school! That did depress me. So much. To think if I had just worked ´normal´ I would have been red-flagged and I may have got the supports I would have needed to succeed.

Those three days were to a tipping point in my life: Either I could cop out and blame the world that at 37 I now knew I had a learning difficulty that prevented me from excelling academically. I knew already I was not strong enough to take on a trade, and not calm and cool enough in an emergency to be a police officer or work in radio, or other career considerations I had had over the years. At 37 I realized I had no ´bankable´talents.

So I could either sink in the hole of that misery and self pity. Or I could just get on with it. I chose the latter.

Not for any noble reasons; sure, the former might have been an easier option, but it would have been no fun! So boring!

The testers in La Guardia Community College said, I could achieve a lot academically, only focus on subjects I liked. AND TO TAKE MY TIME. I needed time to absorb what I needed to learn. And like wise I needed more time to do exams, which was arranged for me. They were right.

I did my four year degree – in 11 years! And I got straight A´s the whole way. If school was horrible college was SUPER! I even won scholarships and what not! My years in La Guardia Community College were I did my Ass. Degree and John Jay College where I did a degree in Criminal Deviation, were some of the happiest years of my life to date.

Career hopes were gone, but life was looking better and better.

I was head hunted. To be a house keeper. A joke I thought… I do not enjoy cleaning houses. And certainly not full time. How soul destroying it would be. I turned down the position. A very wise and usually gentle nun I knew was furious with me; she said ´no matter what – if one is ever offered an interview on a silver platter ATTEND THE INTERVIEW. Even if it is to say thank you but no thank you.´

I attended the interview. The interviewer seemed to be very interested in me even though I told her I was not a good housekeeper. I said thank you but no thank you. She asked me to consider the position for the rest of the week. Politely I said I would.

I did not have to. The adult children of the lady I was caring for advised me that night they had made other plans for their mother. I was given three days notice.

Very casually I called the interviewer for the housekeeing job and explained: `OK. So somebody wants to hire me as a housekeeper, even though you all know I am no good at housekeeping; if that is clear and understood, I will give it a try.´ So I ended up accepting the housekeeping job that I had initially rejected - work which I had no interest in doing. Out of desperation. And it was just great! -

It was the Best Non-Career Career move of my life!

And I regret to inform you Nancy, I cannot tell you a thing about it; I signed a confidentiality agreement, which I respect to this this day. Suffice it to say; the employers were looking for a person who cleaned floors and bathrooms and who did other ´housekeeperly´ duties. But the employers wanted in addition, a housekeeper who was honest, discreet, a good communicator, sociable – but not too sociable, who spoke well on the phone and could take and give messages accurately, competent at arranging flowers and the dinning table for formal parties, manage a wine, art and furnishings inventory, do basic computer maintenance. And so on.

And there was a lot of waiting around; for plumbers, for deliveries for what ever. I just loved that, all that waiting around to do ´my stuff´ - and getting paid for it! Another plus, the owners were in town more often than expected; more people were needed to keep the apartment up to the standard that was expected. And my co-workers were EXCELLENT housekeepers, none of whom cared to sit around waiting. So in the end I got ´all the talking to people and waiting around jobs´and they did the real work of housekeeping. A true win win for everyone!

(Another fun aside: Our superiors were very happy with the state of affairs, for which I was given all credit. I would readily tell said persons, that it was not I but the women working with me, who did all that great work. My superiours did not believe me and assumed I was just trying to share the glory so to speak. More brownie points for me, which I loved. For my co-workers who were much more mature in mind than me brownie points were not important. They were getting paid and that was all they cared about! A win win once again for me and my brownie point collection!)

.And it got better!

True the job did not fill me with passion, it was not my life´s calling to wake up each day to count wines, clean bathrooms and wait for air conditioner mechanics. But it was fun a lot of the time – and it was certainly diverse. And I had great co-workers. So life and times were indeed going well.

And it did not stop there: The pay and benefits were good – my tax accountant once told me: If all employees had such work benefits, socialism would never have had to be invented. The pension fund started to grow.

In addition having built up a good financial history and having a steady income, I was eligible to apply some six years later to buy a very nice apartment in a new city government sponsored program Citylights – This was the re-development of the Queens dockland area. This had been a desolate and formerly dangerous area, just one subway stop from Manhattan midtown. And that I did on the advice of the aforementioned tax accountant. A great move for life and for my financial standing.

Time to leave the U.S.

This happy work situation lasted 16 years. For a few reasons it was time to leave for Europe. Not least of which was: without millions (emphases on the ´s´ here!), being old in New York would not be fun in any circumstances, but especially not having family there.  It was time to return to Europe. That I did in 2008 age 53. Now with a German Romeo in tow!

 

Hausfrau Rósín. 

A life searching for purpose - not found.   Part III.


November 30th 2020                          Day 61 of living the dream


No comments:

Post a Comment