The Grass IS Greener

Ostensibly, Caitlin Kelly’s commentary in The New York Times, My Retail Job, Crazy as It Is, Keeps Me Sane seems like a self-indulgent wish for the grass to be greener. Kelly, once a full-time journalist went freelance with the down-turned job market. But freelance, though affording many luxuries, isn’t easy on the emotional psyche. She remarks how “working alone at home as a freelance writer, which many people dream of, wasn’t working for me. The relentless isolation of connecting primarily with others online and by telephone was killing me.”

Initially reading her commentary, I wanted to laugh. How apropos that this gripe was published on Valentine’s Day, the one day when those who have a partner gripe about what they don’t like about their relationship; those without a partner complain about not having a relationship.

But once I read further, this whole preconceived notion I had of Kelly, of her engaging in a finger-pointing exercise crumbled. It wasn’t that she was bemoaning her own situation. What she seemed to suggest was that by finding a job that offers emotional sanity, even if it wasn’t ideal, had its merits. It essentially helped her to redefine herself by teaching her some new perspectives.

Instead of giving up on freelance right away, which in this economy as a writer is financial suicide, instead of holding out for another full-time writing position, Kelly sought out what she needed to feel satisfied. She sought the human contact she craved, applied for a part-time retail sales job for a high-end clothing store in an affluent New York suburb—and got it. For less than $12 an hour, Kelly, at least twenty years older than many of her counterparts, sold clothing, arranged displays, folded sweaters, and interacted with customers. In the process, she admittedly got more than she bargained for.

Unlike the writing world where success is frequently driven by perception, egos, networking contacts, how well your last project sold, or which magazine published it, retail is about numbers. You make the numbers, you’re acknowledged and rewarded. Kelly, a top sales performer, likes the clarity of seeing her name posted on the store wall. She likes that regional managers who come periodically to check out the store remember her name. She likes the fact that divas in retail frequently get canned, and pretty much everyone on the sales floor operates on the same playing field.

That system pales to setting where a collection of intellects and egos she worked with in her old full-time job. On some days, a mere trifle could create high-anxiety, full-blown drama. Now, while she puts in six to eight hour days, many of her old colleagues are unemployed, stripped of their six-figure salaries and fiefdoms. Mostly, many of her colleagues have lost a true sense of direction.

The writing world is arbitrary, cut throat, and not always satisfying. Those who stick it out do so for deeply personal reasons. On some level, we writers are artists who have ideas that must be expressed regardless of compensation or popularity. Sometimes we pour our hearts into an article, and an agent or editor says “I don’t get it.” Sometimes we generate what we consider drek and the mainstream public embraces it. For a writer, the messages can be confusing and not altogether rewarding.

But, I think an important aspect of writing, at least for me, is how through our craft we can reinvent ourselves. Sometimes we do it through the writing. Sometimes, like Ernest Hemingway, we do by submitting ourselves to external experiences that shape and sharpen our perspectives. I think those who figure out how to reinvent themselves tend to survive, to thrive even when the industry isn’t. A friend of mine, a past Wall Street Partner once told me how he always seems to find lots of work when the economy goes sour. He told me once how a client referred to him as a “jungle rat.” I thought it was such a perfect metaphor. Rats do figure out how to scrounge, how to survive under less than ideal conditions.

So, what can we learn from Kelly. I think this down-turned economy offers great opportunities. There’s an expression—“Even an old tree will break if it doesn’t bend in the wind.” Being forced out of a job offers a chance to redefine ourselves, painful as it is. It forces us to confront our old, outdated expectations. It forces us to reinvent ourselves or to be left behind. Mostly, it gives us a chance to pause, to ask, “what will make me satisfied.” We get to figure out our own resiliency, our own creativity. And these are lessons I’d want to embrace.

If you’d like to read Caitlin’s Kelly’s article, here is the link:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/15/jobs/15pre.html