It was a cold, drizzly January morning when the lay-offs occurred. What would later be called the Great Recession was gaining momentum. During previous recessions, consumers didn't stop spending; this time, the consumer did the unexpected: they pulled back and held on to their money.
Rumors swirled around the company, meetings were being held, people some returning to their desks at the conclusion, others disappeared for some time and eventually returned to clear out their personal belongings.
Many people I had known and worked with for years were told their services were no longer needed. We wept openly in the hallways as we said goodbye to those who were leaving. We didn't understand what was happening or why. There was no official word until later that day on the local news, explaining that more than 100 workers, about 10 percent of the salaried and full-time employee base, were laid off.
Long before we knew the details on the news, the bell had tolled for me as well. I was rushed off to a large open office area no longer in use where HR triage was being performed. I saw someone else I recognized, sitting solemnly and signing paperwork. We nodded at each other in a sign of understanding, not able to speak and knowing we would never see each other again as fellow employees.
I was given my options, such as they were. I was a boomerang employee, having returned the previous spring after being away for five years, so my official time with the company was short. I could sign the forms, agree to no litigation and get a month's severance, or I could refuse to sign them and get paid nothing. There were three people at home dependent on my income. Was it really an option? I signed, took my paperwork, and left the area, returning to my office.
I spoke with my boss, who
understood my need to finish what I was working on. I saw others during
the afternoon who were happy to see I was still there and sad when I
explained it was temporary.
I cleared out my office, filling
several boxes. I removed the books from the shelves, having placed them
there less than a year ago. I continued to work up to the point when my
access was finally revoked on the server. It was finally time to leave.
In
1967, psychiatrists Thomas Holmes and Richard Rahe began to study
medical records as a way to determine if a link existed between
stressful events and illnesses. They discovered a positive correlation
between the two that would culminate in what would become known as the
Holmes and Rahe Stress Scale. Number eight on this scale is job loss,
preceded by other traumatic events such as divorce, serious illness or
death in the family.
Similar stages of grieving that occur with
the death of a loved one occur with job loss, including shock and
denial, fear and anxiety, anger, bargaining, depression and eventually
acceptance.
It was a numbness, not knowing how to interpret it; a sadness, a bewilderment and a sense of disbelief.
The
previous fall our wages were frozen, the match to our 401K was
suspended and bonuses were cancelled. That was enough, the company said.
And that's what they said again in January, hopeful the layoffs were
the necessary correction to keep moving forward. Three months later
salaried employees had their wages reduced by 10 percent to 30 percent,
in the best interest of both the business and the employees after
disappointing holiday sales the previous year.
None of those
moves were adequate to stem the bleeding. It was quite some time before I
realized how lucky I was to have been in the first wave of what
eventually grew to nearly 25% of the full-time workforce, including the
CEO.
Being laid off from my job and under water on a mortgage
during the Great Recession became the largest upheaval of my adult life
to that point. I was suddenly unemployed for the first time in my
career; a visit to the unemployment office was eye opening and not
something I wanted to repeat. The chances of staying in Medford were
slim to none. We knew leaving our home and friends behind was
inevitable. The life we had made for ourselves was going to change and,
if we were fortunate, it would happen sooner than later. If we were
unfortunate, it would drag on for months and we would become another
statistic of the economic downturn.
I focus on the uncertainty of
our lives, how change comes when you least expect it, how planning is
everything but how plans are nothing. Life goes on, regardless of
whether or not we control which way it goes, which is precisely why
planning is everything and the plan is nothing.
Again, I am
fortunate. A few job offers later, I am gainfully employed by what would
become my favorite employer, the one all other companies are compared
to and fail to meet the standard. We downsize our belongings for the
trip, move to another state further away from family, and start again.
After all, what other choice is there?
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