Be Small, Be Brave

SMALLNESS  IS  STRENGTH

Above, from a children's book cover, whose title I forgot

I'm applying for a new job.
Yesterday I applied at the food co-op down the street, for an all-round store staff position.
[Oh, I just now got an email saying I didn't get an interview. Not heart-broken.]

Now I'm applying at nearby high schools, to work as a special-ed assistant (what Ass't man left to do).

Here's what that decided me to start looking for new work, after almost six years at the thrift store:
The dressing rooms that have been closed since Covid summer 2020 got taken down.

These, below, are the store's former dressing rooms. Covid concerns aside, the rooms were sites for drug use & theft, and management decided to close them forever when we reopened in August 2020, after closing because of Covid and damage caused by uprisings after the murder of George Floyd.

Workers suggested the dressing rooms be removed, to create more floor space.
Retail. It's what we do.
Upper management said no, it would be too much work to remove the  metal (maroon) door frames.
The doors were closed and locked, and the space remained unused.

Three+ years later--below--this week a volunteer who used to work in construction removed the dressing rooms.
With the help of Grateful-J, it took 5 hours.
All this new space! Clothes will go there--they're the store's top seller, by far.

I don't know why management decided to take the rooms down, all of a sudden.
It doesn't matter why. It's a perfect example of the haphazard way the store is run. Management's default response to any suggested change is NO. (That's why I don't ask if I can change something myself, like put down a rug. I just do it.)

Change--even improvement--is seen as a PROBLEM.

It drives me crazy that decisions are made, if they are made, with no foresight, no investigation of options, certainly no outlay of money (the volunteer wasn't paid, of course).

I asked Big Boss if he was happy to see all that floor space.
He could not say he was. "Now they need to get paint and fixtures and all that."

And I thought, I HATE THIS.
I hate the constant negativity from the top. "That won't work" could be management's motto.

I hate how management is stingy with resources--from office supplies to job training. Forget any emotional support.
Big Boss said he knows--he's been told--he should give praise;
but, he told me, he thinks people shouldn't need praise.

And more--we work in hard, hard circumstances, with drug dealers committing murder across the street, with people in desperate need, with sadness and fear...
And this is not addressed at all. No comfort, no strength, no nothing.

I hate the results of mismanagement, all the things I've complained about here for YEARS. The poor pay, for sure: everyone's stuck forever at minimum wage.
But also the lack of community, mutual support, any information about ... anything that might be helpful to our jobs or our lives.
Workplace safety? What's that?

There is no doubt that my work in BOOK's is a good thing.
Customers tell me all the time--every week, at least, and often every day someone says something nice about books. Sometimes a little thing, sometimes something heartfelt, like when someone said our store was a beacon.
A couple weeks ago, a man asked me if I was the person who did books. I said yes, and he said,
"I want you to know, what you do matters."

And I believe that. I know it.
BOOK's Matter.
(And toys are good too--they're a pain, but I like to see kids happy with toys I've prepared (washed, repaired, bagged up).)

But it surprises me how hard it has become to keep working with no support from management--no help with decision making, no money for supplies (I've bought my own, sometimes)--and, much worse, to work in an atmosphere of constant dis-couragement.

Our Christmas bonuses were half what they were last year--not that they were much to begin with.
I got the big fifty bucks this Xmas.

I went to Big Boss. "Are you trying to tell me something?" I said. "I worked harder than ever this year."

"Did you?" he said.

I was flabbergasted. "The book nook?" I said.
A massive undertaking that had me moving hundreds of pounds of books, and one that opened up more retail space.

"It's not you," he said. "Expenses are up."

I just walked away.

I'm not sure that BB gets it that in retail, space is money. I'm not sure what he gets, but it sure isn't the basics of retail. Or human psychology.

And Manageress is entirely unsuited to any sort of responsibility. She spends half her time pricing shoes in the back room, leaving the cashier to run the front of the store. Our newest cashier is twenty-three years old, and she's left to deal with all the wack-a-doodle customers.

My biggest problem is what this all has done to me.
My fuel gage is near empty.
And, worse--I didn't expect this, I truly didn't see it coming:
I do not believe I am a failure at the store--quite the opposite!--
but I feel like a failure.

I feel like an impatient, reactive, negative mess.
I'm not, I know it.
But working in a place with management that rewards lack of effort and punishes initiative, is reductive to the human spirit.

Recognizing this is, actually, incredibly encouraging.
I AM FINE.
I have possibilities. I will pursue them.
And in the meantime, I have BOOK's.
I love them, and they love me. I am sustained.