Back in August, I posted about how I thought having a union in my workplace would be a bad idea. In September, I had even more ominous feelings. I even mentioned that I can’t have everything go well, that something in life always bitch-slaps me.
Let’s take an inventory, shall we? My kids are largely happy & healthy; the fact that I have two teenage daughters who willingly engage in actual conversations with me says something about our mother-daughter relationships! I’m madly in love with two wonderful guys, both of whom make me feel cherished & appreciated, and one with whom I’m about to celebrate the 6-year anniversary of moving in together. My bills are all getting paid on time consistently, and I can still afford my daily caffeine jolt and the occasional retail therapy. I’ve even hunted down those neglected bills on my credit report and I’m making payments on those, too. I’m headed toward the big 4-0 at an alarming rate, but I still get carded at the liquor store. My ass, while a smidge larger than I might wish, is still divine (and still gets checked out by college boys on the PSU campus!). I live in an odd & wonderful city, where you often see bumperstickers on cars that say “Keep Portland Weird” (including my car!). I have a nice, low-stress, genuinely enjoyable job, and I take pride in earning my paycheck.
Oh, wait. Scratch that last bit. I had a nice, low-stress, genuinely enjoyable job.
Starting Monday, I’m booted from my department, and stuck in training for the same kind of fuq’ing stressful, craptastic phone job that I worked very damned hard to get out of. I have to go back on the phones – despite having been in my current position for 14 months and doing a good job of it, despite the fact that the 3 of us in my department who are being transferred have at least twice as much time in position than at least 3 other people in our department but less time with the company than those 3, and despite the fact that being moved to another department is a demotion.
Although they say it “technically” isn’t, I know that it “actually” is; there are less than 20 people in my department, so I’m one of a select & vaguely prestigious group (people were high-fiving me right & left when I got hired to that department). However, there are hundreds of people in the department to which I’m being moved, and there are only two that I know for a fact aren’t lame excuses for superficial twenty-something morons (most of the conversations I’m forced to overhear if I’m in the smoking room while I’m on breaks are just idiotically stupid). It’s not rocket science to figure out that equation. I’ve also been informed that my shift will remain the same next week, because they’re required to give me a week’s notice of any shift change. Nobody is willing to say what my shift might be the week after next, and for damned sure nobody’s rushing to promise me a day shift with weekends off, like I have now.
I’m losing the best job I’ve ever had, I’m losing the promotion I busted my ass for during my first 11 months on the job, I’m losing at least the potential for a big fat raise next month, I’m quite possibly losing anything resembling a day shift with weekends off, and I’m almost certain to lose my cool on a fairly frequent basis. And do you know why?!
THE UNION.
That’s right. Because I’ve “only” been with the company 2 years (25 months, but who’s counting?), I’m getting yanked out of my happy & nifty job, when people who’ve only been in the department less than half the time I have are getting to stay, because their hire date with the company is at least one day prior to mine. Because it’s no longer about the quality or quantity of your work, it’s no longer about qualifications for the job, it’s no longer about doing your best and going the extra mile, both individually and for the team. Now, it’s only about tenure.
The 3 people with the shortest time in the department were hired with the company before the 3 people who are getting booted out of the department, so they get to keep their spot when management decided to shuffle things around, while I & 2 coworkers don’t. Regardless of ALL else, and it’s the union’s fault – and the fault of all those gullible twits who signed union cards, lured by promises of better paychecks and some nebulous concept of “protecting & supporting the worker”. This is not fucking Russia, people!!! If you don’t like your job or something about your job, get another fucking job. And yes, it really IS that easy. I’m a high school dropout who had only part-time fast-food jobs until she was 28, who was also on welfare for a couple years, who never was “handed anything” and never “got lucky” but always worked hard, and I’m making enough to support a family, so I guarantee anyone can if they make the fucking effort.
I’ve always believed that unions do far more to protect chair-warmers and discourage taking pride in a job well done or actually putting forth the effort to earn your paycheck, than they ever have protected people who were in danger of losing their jobs or being taken advantage of or harmed in some way. And this situation only supports that belief.
[Added a couple hours later: Yes, yes I am taking my own advice. I already checked out the job opportunities in any other department than the one to which they’re moving me (and there aren’t any). I’ve already talked to the afore-mentioned ex about hiring possibilities where he works. I’m seriously contemplating applying for nice, boring, mellow receptionist-type positions…maybe in a vet’s office, or a retirement home. I’m fully aware that bitching without action is merely whining, and up with that shit, I will not put. *sigh*]
