Sunday, June 21, 2009

FAILED CAMP COUNSELOR


I've realized some important things about myself over this past week. It was my first week of work at the Arboretum and I'll sum it up by giving a few details. Let's just say that it's not what I expected.

On Friday I dragged myself toward the parking lot all the while thinking, "Man...this is WAY more intense than they made it out to be during the interview," and "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!"

Now, I've had a lot of experience working with children and unfortunately that is what KEEPS me in positions like the one that I am in now. It's difficult to make any sort of career change when all the experience I have is kid related. I was totally thrilled when they hired me because (1) I would be doing something that I have done before (working with kids) (2) I would be teaching "art"...this as it turns out is not really the case (3) I would be working outside on the beautiful grounds of the L.A. Arboretum. Sounds picture perfect doesn't it?

But I forgot some important things about myself.

I like kids. I really do. They're cute and funny...some of the time. Then there are those other times. Another thing is that I like kids in small doses.

Small controllable doses. Small enough for me to actually speak and be heard the first, second...hell...even on a third attempt.

If kids don't listen to me when I am giving instructions, say on how to glue something on to another thing...or how to wash out a paintbrush so your colors don't mix, I tend to stop for a moment. I wait for them to settle down (which almost never happens because we're dealing with 5 year olds for crying out loud) and then I just keep giving my instructions. I give my instructions to the air and they fly away, bouncing off cute little deaf ears and the obnoxious cries of the peacocks in the distance.

I don't enjoy raising my voice. Some people can shout for hours and still be happy and energetic. I end up feeling like a deflated balloon. And one thing I really don't want is to come home from work looking and feeling like a deflated balloon.

It's not just the kids. In fact...they are the least of my anxieties. I've put a lot of effort into preparing for this job. Long have been the hours of collecting recycled materials, researching projects, DOING projects, and planning. But this first week my boss has expressed her many disappointments with my job performance...in not so direct ways like:

"yeah...you know showing up 15 minutes before class MIGHT be a little short for adequate prep time..." (I was 40 minutes early and set up BUT she didn't see that so of course it doesn't count...funny how that works)

and another:

"Well, I would have been prepared but I wasn't planning on doing this project that you are just now telling me about. I had another project planned out for today," I said.

"Oh...and what project was THAT?" Her tone was dripping with condescending suspicion, insinuating that I hadn't planned anything at all.

Nice. I love this job. I love all jobs where I am accused of being lazy. It's good for my self-esteem. Of course, my written description of this experience doesn't capture it completely. Not even close. But starting Monday I will have more time to work on my writing skills. Three cheers for that. I give myself a gold star for looking at the bright side of my approaching unemployment.

And now, after a nice Saturday of sleeping in and watching the rain outside my window I am able to laugh a little at how ridiculous it all is. The chaos is much too much for the compensation and my sanity.

Where O where do we draw the line between necessary and unnecessary discomfort? My opinion? and for my life? It all depends. Is it going to pay off to stay in school and rack up heaps and heaps of loans only to be aimless and broke? Some would say yes. I would say no. Is a month long summer camp job worth losing sleep about? Do I need to be dreaming about film canisters and jar lids swirling about my head ( i know. creepy and weird)? Uhhh...no and no.

...and that's just sad.

Kudos to those who can hang with the summer camps. You have my highest respect. I offer you all a giant pat on the back for all the sweat, tears, and thankless hours you give of yourselves because I know you're either you're not getting paid enough or you're just simply not getting paid at all. If only kudos paid the bills.

I think I wrote something about failing in an earlier blog. ha. I think I said something like, "it's all just part of the game folks."

So it goes.

5 comments:

  1. Awww J! I'm sorry your job sucks so much! Thanks for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks Dani. :) It's ok...I'll live. Like I said, I've definitely learned a few things about myself through this experience.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Knowing next 2 nothing about u leads me only to say that your life deserves much more than this. Just my K9 intuition.

    ReplyDelete