Professional Development

            I think it’s fair to say that my professional development hasn’t gone quite as I planned.  This is, in and of itself, not a great disaster.  For example, had I wished to have a truly stellar and non-stop-exciting career as a journalist, I probably shouldn’t have moved to Berlin.  There are plenty of stories to be found here, to be sure, but the international media, by and large, isn’t interested in quirky stories out of Germany, and German politics can be oh so dull.  No, if you want to interest the foreign media out of Germany, you’re best off heading to Frankfurt and reporting on the stock markets and the latest German business scandal that seems to shock the world, because everyone seems to have this image of Germans as upright business professionals … despite generating a new business scandal of fairly shocking proportions every five years or so.

            But that isn’t it.  Christina’s job was in Berlin, so I put my career on hold and, honestly, was lucky to find regular work here ever since I showed up in 2004.  I can’t get too grouchy that I was never an international superstar reporter and, let’s face it, my personality is not one that would have lent itself to stardom.  I’m better off working in the background, producing stuff.  My goal always was to be the reporter other reporters respected.  Like, you might not see my face on TV, but people would know to come to me if they wanted to get the straight story.

            That isn’t what happened, but I found something that was pretty close to good enough.  And then, about a year after Colin died and I was starting to get my feet under me, despite Covid, the rug got pulled out.  I still have a job.  I’m just not enjoying it the way I used to.  Plus, Covid and Colin’s death have understandably had their impact on me.  While I was out of the picture at work, dealing with Colin’s death, some decisions understandably got made and I wasn’t there to influence them.  I’ve felt a little sidelined ever since I returned.  And then we all got sent home thanks to the pandemic, so it was a sidelining on top of a sidelining.

            This is not meant to be a complaint about my job.  Besides that not being a topic for an open forum, it is important to point out that my employer has been amazingly understanding through all my health-related absences and the quirks I’ve developed in the wake of my son’s death.  I’m employed, I make enough money to feed my family and I have predictable hours that give me the freedom I need to pursue other ventures like this blog and the fiction writing I’m trying to start doing on the side.  So, I can’t complain on that front.  But some things have come to the forefront in recent weeks that, frankly, enrage me.  Maybe I’m right.  Maybe I’m wrong.  Maybe I’m overreacting.  Ever since Colin died I find there are a few people and issues with which I simply can’t react rationally.  I see myself overreacting, but I just can’t stop myself.  So, I don’t really know if there’s a problem or if I’ve just lost perspective.  The point is, it’s making me unhappy.

            Which brings me to the point.  For the longest time, even when things weren’t going great with my job, when I resigned myself to the fact that I might never be a reporter again and I probably wouldn’t get that many bylines, there was always the option to say “Well, my career might not be going so great, but what counts is that I’ve got a great family.”

            Which I do.

            It’s just that we lost a person.  And it wasn’t our fault and we did the best we can, but the whole “at least my family is doing fine” philosophy doesn’t hold up when your youngest is buried a five-minute bike ride from your home.  It’s hard.  I’ve been trying to see what I can do about my professional life for more than a year now, but things are not coming together terribly quickly.  So, I stay where I am and stew and worry that I might lash out at the wrong person at the wrong time about the wrong thing. 

That said, what happens if I do move to a better job?  At least everyone I know at my present employer knows my history.  When I panic during a meet and greet with a new colleague on Zoom – do I say why my career hasn’t advanced?  Do I follow other people’s leads and talk about my family?  If so, do I say I have two or three children? – they at least have some inkling of what I’ve been through.  In new surroundings, assuming I don’t tell everyone individually about my backstory, which I’m not sure would be appropriate, I wouldn’t get that leeway.

            So, there is this sense of either having to stay where I am and make the best of it, or making the terrifying jump into the unknown, should an opportunity ever present itself.  I keep telling myself it’s just a career.  My family should be the most important.  And it is.  It’s just that, even if everything goes perfect from here on out, it’s impossible to look back and say “that was a success” when Colin is dead.  Looking at my professional life, I wish I could get it pumped up just a bit better.  But I’m losing hope.  But, whereas before, I could turn my thoughts to home and think ‘at least my family is fine,” I know that’s not absolutely true.  We cope.  We make do.  We have a lot of good days.  But we took a hit and it’s left its marks.

            Nothing to do, I suppose, but show up to work and do the best I can and then see what opportunities present themselves.  But it feels like it should be easier than it is.  Except, I’ve learned that it isn’t.