I quit my job today. And I will be starting the job mentioned many weeks ago in three more weeks. As I rode the train in to work this morning, I started feeling very ill. "I'm going to have to quit my job today." I got to work and printed out my resignation letter, carefully crafted the night before. I went about doing what I had to do for the morning and then got up boldly to go and talk to my boss. But she wasn't there. So I came back to my office and was talking to my co-workers (the nice ones) and was told that another SWer quit last week. I felt guilty, so I told them I was quitting. They were sad, but understood very well why I had to do it. And then I had lunch. Someone told me that my boss was in her office, so I gathered up my things and my courage and went to her office again. But there were three people there eating lunch with her and she was on the speaker phone. "I need to talk to you later on," I said. "Just let me know," she said. I went back to my office and waited. Did some work. Talked on the phone. I got a call from my boss that she was ready to speak with me. I gathered my things and my courage again, and went downstairs.
"I'm here because...I'm sorry but....I have to resign my position." I managed it with no tears, a huge feat. And I waited for her response.
"Okay. I understand."
"YOU UNDERSTAND!" I thought.
"I knew."
"YOU KNEW!"
"Good luck."
I then, without prompting to do so, explained the reasons I had decided to quit. I had rehearsed the speech in my head for weeks, so it had to be done. As I was walking back to my office, I began trying to put my finger on the feeling I had. The only thing I could think of was the feeling that some of my friends who have come out to their families have described. You build this thing up in your head as one of the most difficult things you'll ever have to do. You work out just what you're going to say for every contingency. And then it happens....you say it. And they say "I knew." And you think "F- THIS!" This is what I got today. I know that things in my head are always a little more dramatic than in real life. I pictured maybe some anger, maybe some violent regret, a bit of pleading to keep me there. I got nothing--no surprise, no shock, no awe, no apologies....NOTHING. So what do I say...F- THAT.
UPDATE: This past week has been mad weird, yo. I resigned on Monday afternoon and by Tuesday everybody in my clinic knew, but no one would tell me who told them. It wasn't so much a secret, but I was just shocked that it happened so fast. And the response I got was very humbling. Everyone asked me not to go, but understood, and had been long aware, of the reasons I decided to go. I found out that one person, who I wouldn't have suspected at all, had gone to the administration on my behalf. I spoke to the woman who runs my program and she asked that I speak to the director of social work and let her know how serious I am. And I heard a rumor that the main reason I'm leaving may be leaving herself (not of her own volition). I told my friends in the clinic that I am 99% leaving. That 1% depends on seeing with my own eyes that something is being done. I feel like I'm leading a coup. It's fantastic.
"I'm here because...I'm sorry but....I have to resign my position." I managed it with no tears, a huge feat. And I waited for her response.
"Okay. I understand."
"YOU UNDERSTAND!" I thought.
"I knew."
"YOU KNEW!"
"Good luck."
I then, without prompting to do so, explained the reasons I had decided to quit. I had rehearsed the speech in my head for weeks, so it had to be done. As I was walking back to my office, I began trying to put my finger on the feeling I had. The only thing I could think of was the feeling that some of my friends who have come out to their families have described. You build this thing up in your head as one of the most difficult things you'll ever have to do. You work out just what you're going to say for every contingency. And then it happens....you say it. And they say "I knew." And you think "F- THIS!" This is what I got today. I know that things in my head are always a little more dramatic than in real life. I pictured maybe some anger, maybe some violent regret, a bit of pleading to keep me there. I got nothing--no surprise, no shock, no awe, no apologies....NOTHING. So what do I say...F- THAT.
UPDATE: This past week has been mad weird, yo. I resigned on Monday afternoon and by Tuesday everybody in my clinic knew, but no one would tell me who told them. It wasn't so much a secret, but I was just shocked that it happened so fast. And the response I got was very humbling. Everyone asked me not to go, but understood, and had been long aware, of the reasons I decided to go. I found out that one person, who I wouldn't have suspected at all, had gone to the administration on my behalf. I spoke to the woman who runs my program and she asked that I speak to the director of social work and let her know how serious I am. And I heard a rumor that the main reason I'm leaving may be leaving herself (not of her own volition). I told my friends in the clinic that I am 99% leaving. That 1% depends on seeing with my own eyes that something is being done. I feel like I'm leading a coup. It's fantastic.
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