This Email Could Have Been a Fistfight

I saw a post on August 19th that said, “You’ll never feel ready because “ready” isn’t a feeling, it’s a decision.”
I took a screenshot of it. I wasn’t sure why. 

About two weeks later, I learned that my company would be facing federal-level budget cuts. They had til the end of the week to make decisions and lay off several employees. The turnaround was quick, and we were given the option to volunteer and accept the severance package, or wait til the end of the week to find out your fate. For a few different reasons, I volunteered.

I was optimistic about my decision. I have an impressive resume, numerous transferable skills, and I recently completed my masters. According to my husband and my mom, I could do whatever I wanted. My freshly-former coworkers said I’d “be rewarded” for being selfless. I believed them.

I started receiving “sorry, not you” responses. While most didn’t give a reason, some said they were going with a candidate who better fit their needs. Remember how I said my skills were transferable?? Well, these recruiters weren’t seeing it. 

The month of September was a test of faith. In myself, the system, and the belief that having a degree meant something. 

At the end of the month, I had a really promising interview. I met with two different leaders, was taken on a tour, introduced to the GM, and was given their benefits guide to review. I was there for almost two hours.

A week following that interview, I sent an email to check in. Crickets.
A week after that, I received an automated email from their system saying another candidate had been selected.
Confused by how well my interview seemed to go, I reached back out for any kind of clarity. That was a Saturday.
That Monday, I received an email explaining why they went with the other candidate, and that I was their second choice. For whatever reason, the other person didn’t work out, and I was invited back for a second interview. I went the next day. 

This second interview went very well. I was taken on a more thorough tour, shown some training materials that I’d be working with, and given their updated benefits booklet to review. I left expecting an offer by the end of the week. It never came.

I sent another email the following week.
I saw on the company’s site that the position had been reposted two days after I met with them. Assuming it was just a formality on the corporate side, and being petty in case it wasn’t, I reapplied.
I got an email from the interviewer shortly after with a lot of stalling language. The GM was out of town, and that was adding to their delay. 

No problem. I followed up again after his return, called him by name in the email (after all, we were introduced to each other during my first visit), and waited for a response. Nothing.

The following week, I sent my final follow up. I told them what I was led to understand, and basically opened the door for them to let me know if they changed their mind.

They changed their mind. 

Six weeks. They took SIX WEEKS of my time, got my hopes up on multiple occasions, and didn’t even have the decency to recognize how dirty it all was. In hindsight, I’m probably better off. And honestly, if I hadn’t been given the benefits book during my first meeting, I wouldn’t have followed up. But man, their benefits are great.

One of my best friends recently told me during his own story that if it isn’t a f-yes, it’s a f-no. Do I really want to work somewhere where I wasn’t their first choice? Do I really want to work somewhere where my supervisor can’t take accountability? Absolutely not.

So now what? I never stopped applying to jobs, but nothing has turned into anything. 

If I’ve learned anything so far, it’s that my time in the early childhood education world is something recruiters don’t take seriously. Regardless of how many transferable skills I have, and how serious those roles were, I haven’t been given the opportunity to convince them. Yeah, it’s their loss. But I’d still like something to come along, y’know?

Let’s circle back to how this story started;
“You’ll never feel ready because “ready” isn’t a feeling, it’s a decision.”

JS.Created has been an idea without a name for a LONG time. I’ve always wanted to make more websites, share my niche knowledge, and at the end of the day, make a difference to somebody. I’ve said that change rarely happens in your comfort zone, and putting myself out there is definitely an uncomfortable concept. 

This past weekend, the idea was weighing heavy on me. If I never try, I’ll never know. Maybe this can really turn into something special. And how cool would it be if I could specifically create for childcare agencies?! Now that’s exciting.

If you’re reading this, thanks for making it this far. Because of people like you, I’m ready.