Work and career…

I had been panicking about my career from a very young age. I had a list of jobs I wanted by the age of ten, most of them unattainable, but it didn’t stop me dreaming of working – not sure if other children do such a thing. I do think this was partly influenced by family, my mother didn’t have a very good job although worked a lot and my real father was a drop out, so my grandparents really drummed it into me about succeeding. It was all about prospects, what you bring to the table, what you can offer and what you can achieve. I do sometimes have a rather antiquated attitude and understanding for someone my age, but I took it all in. Everything they taught me from a bygone age and attitude. I’m grateful for it though as it has given me a unique perspective on things.

In all my planning of my future of being a grown up, I had conveniently overlooked one thing, becoming a grown up. It was tough and after a series of upheavals and difficulties, my plan was derailed. I had to drop out of school, I was struggling massively to re-adjust to yet another school and couldn’t find myself. I was given a state appointed tutor for my compulsory education for three hours a week at home, which I must say, was minimal. I already knew what I needed to though, so it was adequate for it’s purpose. I was one of many, I didn’t expect the education board to notice me or care, why should they? I ended my education with nothing to show for it, and the psychological repercussions of that is what initially destroyed me, then probably what drove me on. I had already failed, so what could be worse?

What followed was nearly a decade of trying to make up for it, while also still trying to navigate life which often got in the way. I had focus and a belief in myself though that didn’t require anyone else’s input. I stopped getting praise in my adult life, I had no parents after eighteen and went off the rails in the view of my grandparents, so was left to my own devices for a couple of years and had to be able to be proud of myself. I wasn’t quite measuring up to the family standard, which had already slipped one generation before me. I had the gift of the gab back then though and worked round my lack of formal education, often doing jobs better than people with qualifications. I realised then that the system was a bit of a con, that I hadn’t needed to go to college and university to do well at all. As I got older I knew plenty of people who went, and had nothing to show for it apart from a large debt and an inflated sense of employability. Something I only learnt from experience, how could I have known that then.

One of my jobs that I think taught me the most, was working in a recruitment agency. I had worked for them before as a temp, doing cleaning work, catering assistant and factory work, but this time I was behind the counter. I liked that job very much, but not because of what it was or who it was for. What I started to see were people, with very different situations in need of work, although not all of them were willing to. I happened to be there at a time when the EU opened it’s doors to more countries and we had an influx of foreign workers, mostly Polish who came to our town. Years later I have heard people moan about how they ‘came and stole our jobs’ but the reality was different from where I sat. They took the jobs no-one else wanted to do.

Most of these Polish had very limited English skills but a work ethic that outshone the locals when it came to manual work and labour. We struggled to fill the jobs for bin men and cleaners, for factory workers and fruit pickers. Our college leavers and graduates felt that work was beneath them, and they weren’t afraid to say it.

“I’ve got a degree! I won’t work for £8.00ph!”

I nearly laughed my head off when someone said that to me. Maybe because I was working my way up or maybe because I understood about hard times and appreciating opportunities. Either way, that attitude was not unique, and not restricted to graduates. I always thought a job was a job and if you need to pay the bills, I was proud to be able to pay my way. Have standards by all means, just make them realistic. Soon though those Polish workers became locals themselves and I moved on. I didn’t want my career to be based on people being reliable (because they aren’t), recruitment was not for me. It did however, show me how much people were willing to pay for finance work and I started to realise that is what all businesses have in common, so used my initiative. I booked myself on an evening course at the local college for computerized accounting and made myself look better on paper. It’s all very well being good at talking, but you must be able to get to the talky bit.

It was also just good timing that I handed in my notice with no job to go to, with just a good feeling to go on. Finding a new position as an accounts manager within a couple of weeks and getting on the finance ladder. Very soon though it became clear to me that my standards exceeded those of who I worked for, so self-employment seemed the only route. I was driven, obsessive, love paperwork, am meticulous and can work to my own deadlines – it really was a no brainer. I kept studying for the first five years, doing home learning and exams while growing the business and keeping house.

Working for me is important, it keeps my brain active and focused. Knowing you are part of the bigger picture and participating, paying your way and getting by. But that’s what we are taught to believe isn’t it? That we should be finding our place in society and fitting in. Work, work, work till you are almost dead, then have time off. I really have taken that to heart unfortunately and in the last few years have had to find a bit of balance. With a bit of time and perspective you can often think differently. I understand they need us to work, if we don’t they can’t take your tax, apparently nothing will get done and we will all lose our minds to boredom. The system is not broken, it is how it is meant to be. Capitalism at its finest…

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(c) K Wicks Photographer

Anxiety (WIP)…

Another excerpt from my upcoming WIP.

Society alone can give you anxiety, a stressful home life or working environment can trigger these emotions and feelings too. If on the way through your life though, what if you didn’t get the necessary experience to understand how to cope or know what was going on.

What if you didn’t ever develop coping mechanisms or recognise what might be a weakness in yourself or potential strength? Then how can you hope to make it easier for yourself and work through it? This is the type of question I ask myself, then go to work trying to unravel what it really means. I also know you don’t have to have had a dysfunctional life to feel anxiety, it can happen to anyone, but it definitely makes the path a bit harder…

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(c) K Wicks photographer

Death of the High Street…

This has been a familiar term to me for years. Not too long ago we saw the shift from going to the high street to do your shopping, to driving out to industrial estates with huge Supermarkets selling everything under one roof. The convenience can’t be denied.

But I am one for saving what should be saved, so I have been looking at what it is that I no longer enjoy about the high street. Previously I used to enjoy being able to walk to town, go to the post office, maybe a charity shop or two, pick up some stationary and maybe pay in a cheque. Just a small list of jobs could involve a minimum of four premises, with a possible stop in a book shop or other clothing shop. But as times have changed this is no longer an option.

Most post office have now closed in smaller villages and in towns have been assimilated into convenience stores, often the staff looking confused at the most simple request. Most clients now pay online, so the need to ‘pop’ to the bank just isn’t there. And none of us could have escaped Amazon, anything you can want, within a day. Saving you travel time, parking fees and shopping time. That’s got to be a win. In comparison, the delivery fees are cheaper than your time. This is a slightly separate but related issue – the infrastructure of this country. It takes an awfully long time to get anywhere by way of a motor vehicle. Not just due to congestion and idiotic road works (where you have a massive piece of road sectioned off for a tiny piece on the pavement, and no one working on it!), but we don’t seem to have a logical system of traffic lights either. No-one looks at the overall flow of traffic, because surely if people can get where they are going, we can all get on and either spend money or make money. After all, that’s what it’s all about apparently. If people can get to work, the economy grows, this is why I am starting to think its meant to be this way, because some things are so easy to improve.

So it takes an age to drive to your high street if you can’t walk, and you will have to pay for parking if you can find any. We very rarely encounter a free car park here (that’s also where the large shopping estates won, they had free massive car parks). Lots of shopping centers within towns have many empty shops and what you do have doesn’t seem to be anything people want.

But, aside from the problems of cost, need and availability for shops there is another issue. We come to quality and customer service. Both of which I now think are long gone. I have worked in retail, as well as hospitality and commercial offices before going into finance, so I do understand what it takes to do these jobs. Most of my recent disappointing experiences in establishments have been down to the people or the product they are selling. It could well be that I have indeed managed to move somewhere that is feeling more and more like a cross between Hot Fuzz and The League of Gentlemen. I do not expect to be looked up and down when booking an appointment, I do not expect to be told ‘no we don’t sell hydrangeas’ when they are literally right behind me it turns out. And I don’t expect to wait for over five minutes before no-one appears, or served moldy food in the shop down the way. This is only within a few months, but it gives me an idea of what is going wrong. I can now say I won’t be putting my money into my local shops and I would say this is the suicide of the high street, not just the death of. I guess the old saying springs to the mind in these instances “If your face doesn’t fit…” But money is money in my book, and manners and etiquette come for free, so no excuse. There are so many things bothering me about this country at the moment, I feel this may not be the last rant!

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(c) K Wicks