The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach

Sonja quit. Now I don't have to keep pretending that she's a good friend. She was profoundly unsupportive during the years I had the what-would-later-turn-out-to-not-be-BP. When I was suicidal she went ballistic and then told me that made her angry because it showed I was a quitter and she expected more from me.

I never got over that. I couldn't completely distance myself or ever really rip into her about it because she had become my boss. I could have viewed it as a sticky situation, but instead, I tried to be an adult, although a wiser and more cynical version of the one I had been earlier.

We worked well together, but I would never buddy up or refer to her as being my friend. I honestly don't think she ever got it. I came to understand that she liked a very specific version of me, and no behavioral variances had a place in her version of me. So, that's the May that I brought to work every day, no matter how far from the truth that version may have been. In many ways, it is a relief to me that I no longer have to pretend that nothing happened or that Sonja was there for me when I needed her (she believes she showed "tough love" and that's what I needed to "snap out of" the suicidal state and severe depression).

There are other implications to her leaving the job, though. From a professional standpoint, this could be a disaster. Sonja was very good at her job--a job that proved to be demanding and filled with paradoxes. It was a political minefield, but she was able to negotiate it more or less unscathed. She grew a lot as a professional and had the ear of some very influential people in this city.

More than that, she brought innovations and positive changes to the entire organization. She knew how to lead--and was mentored in that through programs she was selected to participate in by the chamber of commerce and the state government.

The place where she worked, this place where I have been helping refugees and engaging the receiving community in broader discussions about refugees, human rights, and the value of empowering disadvantaged people to establish self-sufficiency (instead of continuing in the twin vortexes of poverty and despair), this place where lives and outlooks are, quite literally, transformed, is in turmoil.

So damn worried

We lack funding. That's not nearly as big an issue as the fact that we lack leadership. The person who was hired to come in and lead this organization two years ago has proven to be an arrogant bully. He focuses on the "big picture," which in practice means he's superficial. He doesn't understand--or want to understand--what most people here do. He delegates liberally, and as a result, has no grasp of just how much work goes into keeping this organization running. We have always lacked resources, but lacking leadership has led to a significant exodus of talent and people with immense institutional knowledge.

Sonja had no qualms about pointing out what needed to be done and what new policies were causing dysfunction. Rather than listen to what Sonja had to say, the director simply made it more and more unpleasant for Sonja to stay. It took nearly a month before Sonja's job was posted.  When the posting was finally made public, many of us in my department were shocked to see that it had been consolidated with another open position and yet the pay had been reduced by about 20 percent.

In the meantime, in the last two years, the director has been upgrading our slum of a facility while also cutting programs and eliminating staff (robbing Peter to pay Paul). These aren't people who had poor performance records; they are people who have been here for a long time and simply earn more money than the director feels the jobs are worth. Most of those positions have been replaced with job-share type arrangements, so anyone hired is part-time and can be compensated with much lower pay and no benefits.

The jobs that have been hit hardest are those that the director (who has no background in social work, social enterprise, or most of the other things we're involved in), does not comprehend very well. This leaves me in a vulnerable position. It is quite difficult to articulate what I do and how I do it, unless you shadow me on the job or you're a part of the process. I am not young or low on the pay scale, which also puts me at risk for elimination. This director has been very keen to hire what he calls "high energy." What that means is he approves new hires who are young, but well-educated and underemployed. Think 26-year-olds with graduate degrees who haven't been able to find work in their preferred field. They'll settle, but they aren't particularly dedicated to the type of work we're known for. There is a distinct lack of passion creeping through the employee population.

To complicate matters, my department gets half of its funding through the federal government's refugee services program. This money is managed by the state and we bid for it every two years. We have to show positive outcomes and meet a dizzying array of benchmarks in our work. The grant is complicated and requires a lot of hands-on management and interaction with the state. Sonja excelled at this. The organization director doesn't even comprehend our relationship with the state and federal offices, let alone why someone needs to maintain the daily flow of communication between entities. If the state office that oversees our work feels that they aren't able to monitor or manage what we do, they will do something else with that grant money next year.

We are screwed.

So, I worry. I am a 51-year-old woman who does a a very specific job in a somewhat obscure field. There aren't very many places I can go, and even if I could, it would involve slashing my pay. I can't afford that. Besides, last I heard (again and again and again), no one is hiring frumpy middle-aged, do-gooder women these days--at least, not at a living wage.

I am still $13,000 in debt, largely the result of challenges sent my way by the not-actually-BP years. That number used to be many times what it currently is, but I've been digging out steadily. Even without that debt, I have a mortgage to pay, food to buy, insurance, utilities, car maintenance, and myriad other expenses just like any other adult. At this point, I cannot afford to be unemployed for even a month.

When I think about it all, I feel a little sick. I had my personal issues regarding Sonja, but professionally, her departure is a huge loss and has left at least ten other people in a very vulnerable position.