Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Rubber Soul (-crushing Boredom)
They call it "the rubber room." There's more than one, of course, but just like "the post office" or "the bank," the rubber room looms over people through office gossip and spook stories. However, the rubber room is real. People go there everyday, and many of them will spend years in there. Waiting.
Alright, this is not nearly as spooky as it sounds. I was listening to the latest This American Life podcast this morning when I learned about the rubber room. It is the nickname for several "reassignment centers" used by the New York City Board of Education. Teachers who are facing disciplinary action are "reassigned" to these waiting rooms where they...wait. The kicker is that there's no way to know when the waiting ends, and some people don't even know why they were sent to the rubber room in the first place.
There is a twist, good for those sitting around all day and bad for everyone else: teachers in the rubber room continue to earn their full salary. Obviously the press reports have latched onto this story as another example of government waste, while those in the rubber room spin it as bureaucratic nonsense. They know they're getting paid to do nothing and they just want to go back to their schools - any school, frankly, since there have been people who have sat in the rubber room for years. Even those who abandon their positions and find work elsewhere are sore about it, because they felt they had no choice but to give up.
This initially sounds like a great deal for those being reassigned. Who wouldn't want a paycheck just for playing cards or sleeping in an office, devoid of actual responsibility? But consider this: with a finite number of rooms and a rapidly increasing number of reassignees, these rooms are quite crowded. Seats and tables are hard to come by, and the radio show featured stories of fights breaking out. They compared it to prison life in that grown adults were being "confined" and had nothing else to do but to viciously defend what little power they had left. When all you have is your territory, that can mean fighting over who gets to sit by the window.
Of course, for me the rubber room story was completely unshocking as I am familiar with the mindset behind it. During my time as a postal worker, there were a number of occasions where I was required to come to work and wait for mail to arrive or wait after my shift was over for the carriers to return so I could lock the door. It didn't matter if it was after 6 or on a Sunday, I simply had to wait and collect the overtime. This bored me to no end but I learned to deal with it. At least there was no one watching me. I could listen to whatever music I wanted or even take a nap.
It wasn't the waiting for mail that bothered me as much as waiting for other employees, because there were certain people who deliberately took their time in the interest of earning more money. Just like New York City teachers, there are strict union rules about removing a postal employee from their position. No matter how slowly you do your job, they can't fault you for it. In fact, no matter how poorly you did your job (i.e. coming to work drunk), they can't complain so long as you actually deliver the mail. In the case of the Board of Ed., I'm sure someone realizes that children cannot be so cavalierly exposed to gross incompetence, so they decide to simply relocate the people they want to fire. The principle in both organizations is the same: we can't fire this guy, so let's do the next best thing. The Post Office doesn't have a rubber room so they just look the other way.
Alas, my rubber room experience is hardly a distant memory. In my current position I rotate between five different elementary schools. My schedule is pretty much set, so if there are no classes for me to teach, I am still expected to come to work and sit in the office. That includes breaks between semesters where no one has classes which seems to confuse everyone involved. When I walk into a school in mid-August, someone invariably asks "What are you doing here?" and all I can say is "It's Tuesday. I come on Tuesdays."
So I have some sympathy for the rubber room people, but not much. The system is obviously broken, yes. I know how dull it can be to have a job with no responsibilities other than "come to the office." But I'm not duking it out with strangers over desk space, and more often than not I am one of the few people in the office. Hell, I've even managed to work in some gaming during particularly quiet times when I had a room to myself and my laptop on hand.
Ultimately, I say embrace any job that offers you a salary without demanding much, at least in the short term. With so many people in jobs they hate that pay very little or those struggling to find such a job just to make ends meet, it's pretty petty to sit there and complain about being bored at work. Just count your blessings and enjoy the free money. If you really can't stand it, work on your resume and leave. Pursue your dream job; that's what I did. I left my comfortable, money-for-nothing job and moved to Japan...where I found myself in a new money-for-nothing job. At least now I get weekends off.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Alright, this is not nearly as spooky as it sounds. I was listening to the latest This American Life podcast this morning when I learned about the rubber room. It is the nickname for several "reassignment centers" used by the New York City Board of Education. Teachers who are facing disciplinary action are "reassigned" to these waiting rooms where they...wait. The kicker is that there's no way to know when the waiting ends, and some people don't even know why they were sent to the rubber room in the first place.
There is a twist, good for those sitting around all day and bad for everyone else: teachers in the rubber room continue to earn their full salary. Obviously the press reports have latched onto this story as another example of government waste, while those in the rubber room spin it as bureaucratic nonsense. They know they're getting paid to do nothing and they just want to go back to their schools - any school, frankly, since there have been people who have sat in the rubber room for years. Even those who abandon their positions and find work elsewhere are sore about it, because they felt they had no choice but to give up.
This initially sounds like a great deal for those being reassigned. Who wouldn't want a paycheck just for playing cards or sleeping in an office, devoid of actual responsibility? But consider this: with a finite number of rooms and a rapidly increasing number of reassignees, these rooms are quite crowded. Seats and tables are hard to come by, and the radio show featured stories of fights breaking out. They compared it to prison life in that grown adults were being "confined" and had nothing else to do but to viciously defend what little power they had left. When all you have is your territory, that can mean fighting over who gets to sit by the window.
Of course, for me the rubber room story was completely unshocking as I am familiar with the mindset behind it. During my time as a postal worker, there were a number of occasions where I was required to come to work and wait for mail to arrive or wait after my shift was over for the carriers to return so I could lock the door. It didn't matter if it was after 6 or on a Sunday, I simply had to wait and collect the overtime. This bored me to no end but I learned to deal with it. At least there was no one watching me. I could listen to whatever music I wanted or even take a nap.
It wasn't the waiting for mail that bothered me as much as waiting for other employees, because there were certain people who deliberately took their time in the interest of earning more money. Just like New York City teachers, there are strict union rules about removing a postal employee from their position. No matter how slowly you do your job, they can't fault you for it. In fact, no matter how poorly you did your job (i.e. coming to work drunk), they can't complain so long as you actually deliver the mail. In the case of the Board of Ed., I'm sure someone realizes that children cannot be so cavalierly exposed to gross incompetence, so they decide to simply relocate the people they want to fire. The principle in both organizations is the same: we can't fire this guy, so let's do the next best thing. The Post Office doesn't have a rubber room so they just look the other way.
Alas, my rubber room experience is hardly a distant memory. In my current position I rotate between five different elementary schools. My schedule is pretty much set, so if there are no classes for me to teach, I am still expected to come to work and sit in the office. That includes breaks between semesters where no one has classes which seems to confuse everyone involved. When I walk into a school in mid-August, someone invariably asks "What are you doing here?" and all I can say is "It's Tuesday. I come on Tuesdays."
So I have some sympathy for the rubber room people, but not much. The system is obviously broken, yes. I know how dull it can be to have a job with no responsibilities other than "come to the office." But I'm not duking it out with strangers over desk space, and more often than not I am one of the few people in the office. Hell, I've even managed to work in some gaming during particularly quiet times when I had a room to myself and my laptop on hand.
Ultimately, I say embrace any job that offers you a salary without demanding much, at least in the short term. With so many people in jobs they hate that pay very little or those struggling to find such a job just to make ends meet, it's pretty petty to sit there and complain about being bored at work. Just count your blessings and enjoy the free money. If you really can't stand it, work on your resume and leave. Pursue your dream job; that's what I did. I left my comfortable, money-for-nothing job and moved to Japan...where I found myself in a new money-for-nothing job. At least now I get weekends off.
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Labels: JET, politics, postal service, This American Life, Write or Die
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Security = Satisfaction?
Last week was a very enjoyable if completely uneventful vacation. We didn't do much to commemorate the holiday aside from a few day trips to visit Mako's parents and spend time with family. This week I've returned to "work" but only in the loosest possible sense of the word. I don't dare complain about my lack of responsibilities or feelings of superfluousness though. From the increasingly grim headlines I read everyday, I feel like I should really take a moment and thank the glorious-yet-potentially-imaginary deity that I even have a job.
I live in a world somewhat isolated from the global economic crisis and I've been here for my entire adult life. Years ago, when I realized college wasn't going to work, I earned a living through bottom-feeder part-time jobs. Operating a cash register, providing tech support over the phone, even working in the movie theater (which I loved) - all of these jobs were "secure" in that they were low paying with a high turnover rate, ensuring that nobody stuck around long enough to become an expensive liability to the company. I made friends at each of these places but nobody felt much of an impact when I left and I'm sure I was easily (and quickly) replaced at no significant loss. It's counter-intuitive, but I was so expendable that I never worried about being let go.
Then came my tenure at the post office and that's about as steady as work can get. Stamp prices may go up and volume may go down but no matter what, people are always going to need to send things through the mail and the USPS is always going to have more than enough employees to handle that mail. The job security and unchanging daily grind was so strong that each day became the same as the last. It was like that time the Enterprise got caught in that time loop and kept exploding...or Groundhog Day if you're not as geeky as I am. I still felt expendable but I knew I would never be let go because they never let anybody go, not even those who were incompetent or a danger to others. I didn't take comfort in that feeling at all; rather, I felt like I was worthless.
Now I'm living in Japan and teaching English purely because I happen to have a native grasp on the subject, which puts me in an extremely beneficial situation. There simply aren't enough people like me around to fill all the positions Japanese schools have to offer and that's precisely the reason I was "imported" in the first place. I am replacable, yes, but not in any practical way because bringing in someone new is prohibitively expensive. That level of security, coupled with the general sense of satisfaction that I "matter" because I'm a teacher, makes this job quite possibly the most rewarding one I've ever held.
Taking all of the above into account, I find it ironic that my idle thoughts often wander towards leaving this job and trying to find something that is even more rewarding. As it turns out, the notion that this job ranks so high on the "satisfying" scale when compared to my other jobs isn't enough to convince me that this is something I want to do for years to come. That's because my earlier jobs were totally crappy, frankly. To use a crude metaphor, just because Paris Hilton is more attractive than Rosie O'Donnell doesn't make her a contender for Earth's Most Beautiful Woman. She simply doesn't look like shit.
All of this came to my mind this afternoon when I read about the closure of EGM and the layoffs of most of the writers and online personalities that I came to embrace via the magazine's online portal, 1up.com. Here are a bunch of people doing something that strikes me as extremely enjoyable, even enviable, who are now out of work and looking at a very limited range of future employment options. Journalism in general and criticism (especially video game criticism) in particular is a dwindling field. Newspapers and magazines are drying up as people increasingly turn towards television and the Internet. Meanwhile, here I sit in a concrete bunker of an elementary school earning a very generous salary (paid in robust Yen no less) gaining experience in a field that will never, ever go away and dreaming about finding work as a games journalist.
Obviously, I have a lot to think about over the next few years. Teaching English isn't going anywhere but this particular job that I've got has a time limit, and with a baby on the way I've got to choose my moves very carefully to ensure little Daniel Jr. doesn't grow up lacking anything he needs. Writing in my spare time is one thing but at this stage it is damn near irresponsible to fantasize about making a living with it. However, how long can I really expect to date Paris Hilton without dreaming about...I don't know...Scarlett Johansson?
つづく...(Click here to read more)
I live in a world somewhat isolated from the global economic crisis and I've been here for my entire adult life. Years ago, when I realized college wasn't going to work, I earned a living through bottom-feeder part-time jobs. Operating a cash register, providing tech support over the phone, even working in the movie theater (which I loved) - all of these jobs were "secure" in that they were low paying with a high turnover rate, ensuring that nobody stuck around long enough to become an expensive liability to the company. I made friends at each of these places but nobody felt much of an impact when I left and I'm sure I was easily (and quickly) replaced at no significant loss. It's counter-intuitive, but I was so expendable that I never worried about being let go.
Then came my tenure at the post office and that's about as steady as work can get. Stamp prices may go up and volume may go down but no matter what, people are always going to need to send things through the mail and the USPS is always going to have more than enough employees to handle that mail. The job security and unchanging daily grind was so strong that each day became the same as the last. It was like that time the Enterprise got caught in that time loop and kept exploding...or Groundhog Day if you're not as geeky as I am. I still felt expendable but I knew I would never be let go because they never let anybody go, not even those who were incompetent or a danger to others. I didn't take comfort in that feeling at all; rather, I felt like I was worthless.
Now I'm living in Japan and teaching English purely because I happen to have a native grasp on the subject, which puts me in an extremely beneficial situation. There simply aren't enough people like me around to fill all the positions Japanese schools have to offer and that's precisely the reason I was "imported" in the first place. I am replacable, yes, but not in any practical way because bringing in someone new is prohibitively expensive. That level of security, coupled with the general sense of satisfaction that I "matter" because I'm a teacher, makes this job quite possibly the most rewarding one I've ever held.
Taking all of the above into account, I find it ironic that my idle thoughts often wander towards leaving this job and trying to find something that is even more rewarding. As it turns out, the notion that this job ranks so high on the "satisfying" scale when compared to my other jobs isn't enough to convince me that this is something I want to do for years to come. That's because my earlier jobs were totally crappy, frankly. To use a crude metaphor, just because Paris Hilton is more attractive than Rosie O'Donnell doesn't make her a contender for Earth's Most Beautiful Woman. She simply doesn't look like shit.
All of this came to my mind this afternoon when I read about the closure of EGM and the layoffs of most of the writers and online personalities that I came to embrace via the magazine's online portal, 1up.com. Here are a bunch of people doing something that strikes me as extremely enjoyable, even enviable, who are now out of work and looking at a very limited range of future employment options. Journalism in general and criticism (especially video game criticism) in particular is a dwindling field. Newspapers and magazines are drying up as people increasingly turn towards television and the Internet. Meanwhile, here I sit in a concrete bunker of an elementary school earning a very generous salary (paid in robust Yen no less) gaining experience in a field that will never, ever go away and dreaming about finding work as a games journalist.
Obviously, I have a lot to think about over the next few years. Teaching English isn't going anywhere but this particular job that I've got has a time limit, and with a baby on the way I've got to choose my moves very carefully to ensure little Daniel Jr. doesn't grow up lacking anything he needs. Writing in my spare time is one thing but at this stage it is damn near irresponsible to fantasize about making a living with it. However, how long can I really expect to date Paris Hilton without dreaming about...I don't know...Scarlett Johansson?
Labels: Japan, JET, job hunting, postal service, predicting the future, teaching, Write or Die
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Sunday, June 20, 2004
Frustrated
I'm in-between workshifts here...I hate working Sundays after working on Saturday. It's not that Sunday work is hard. Frankly it's pretty breezy and I can use the CD player to listen to anything I want. Plenty of Cibo Matto, I assure you!
I'm also a little bothered by last night. Once again, I tried to "fit in" and go with some friends to a local bar. I hate bars, but I keep trying to go out in the hopes that I'll "see the light" and enjoy myself. But it didn't happen last night and I wonder if it's ever gonna happen. I don't have time to explore these thoughts online right now. Hopefully I'll have a moment to write tonight.
Big day tomorrow.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
I'm also a little bothered by last night. Once again, I tried to "fit in" and go with some friends to a local bar. I hate bars, but I keep trying to go out in the hopes that I'll "see the light" and enjoy myself. But it didn't happen last night and I wonder if it's ever gonna happen. I don't have time to explore these thoughts online right now. Hopefully I'll have a moment to write tonight.
Big day tomorrow.
Labels: friends, mystery, postal service
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Friday, June 11, 2004
Too Infrequent?
Maybe I'm approaching this whole "blog" thing in the wrong way. I've been using it to respond to impulses or funny things I find on the Internet. It should be more like a diary, shouldn't it? Otherwise, you have a situation where I might not post every day or even every other day. And judging by the counter, I see that you're out there reading this...honestly! I'm as surprised as you are, believe me.
So let's recap today. As you may have heard, President Bush declared today a National Day of Observance for the late Ronald Reagan. I'm still undecided how I feel about his "legacy." Is he is still the hero from my childhood who ended the Cold War or is he better remembered for his faults? Irregardless, you see, because I had no Day of Observance today. I had to go to work and sit there. You see, at my shitty job all the mail arrives in the morning. We sort it and give it to the carriers who then deliver it. The rest of day is spent collecting mail from customers over the window. But there was no delivery or window service today and another guy came in early to sort the mail. Which means my job, from 9AM to 5:30PM, was meaningless. All I could do was try not to fall asleep and make sure the building didn't burn down.
Should I be content? Happy even? Most people have hard jobs or low-paying ones. I'm paid lots of money to do little or, as today, nothing at all. I find it frustrating and dreadfully dull, but maybe that's my problem. Maybe I should be thrilled to be so securely employed in an undemanding position. What do I think? Am I bitching about a good thing or is it natural to seek an intellectual response from work?
つづく...(Click here to read more)
So let's recap today. As you may have heard, President Bush declared today a National Day of Observance for the late Ronald Reagan. I'm still undecided how I feel about his "legacy." Is he is still the hero from my childhood who ended the Cold War or is he better remembered for his faults? Irregardless, you see, because I had no Day of Observance today. I had to go to work and sit there. You see, at my shitty job all the mail arrives in the morning. We sort it and give it to the carriers who then deliver it. The rest of day is spent collecting mail from customers over the window. But there was no delivery or window service today and another guy came in early to sort the mail. Which means my job, from 9AM to 5:30PM, was meaningless. All I could do was try not to fall asleep and make sure the building didn't burn down.
Should I be content? Happy even? Most people have hard jobs or low-paying ones. I'm paid lots of money to do little or, as today, nothing at all. I find it frustrating and dreadfully dull, but maybe that's my problem. Maybe I should be thrilled to be so securely employed in an undemanding position. What do I think? Am I bitching about a good thing or is it natural to seek an intellectual response from work?
Labels: politics, postal service
つづく...(Click here to read more)
