It’s a weird feeling. I love my job, but I hate it. I love it because I’m a lecturer. I’m honoured to facilitate teaching and learning among young and old. Teaching and learning are the tools that enable education to transform lives. Education is the light that lures individuals out of Plato’s cave. And part and parcel of being a lecturer I get to read and research interesting articles for my research. I am literally surrounded by knowledge and the job requires that I actively pursue it.
And therein lies the hatred as well. I love to pursue knowledge. But it’s a different story when the pursuit of knowledge now has a deadline. It’s a different story when someone is on your neck to meet the deadline. It’s a different story when you must work with others with different motives to get your deadline.
Even though, I do confess that where I work now is truly amazing. The institution is a JSE-listed private company. It understands that we are not like our parents’ generation who would work tirelessly, Monday to Friday. They have work-from-home policies, and I was shocked when they encouraged (and even subtly forced) us to take our annual leaves to go rest. Yes, we know that there’s a capitalist motive behind this, but I know other organisations are not so forthcoming towards taking annual leave.
Even my fellow colleagues are pretty amazing. Yes, each has their own personal motives and aspirations, but they understand we are a team. There’s a colleague of mine who understands each of us pretty well and tries to lessen the work stress on our shoulders. Tries to maintain a healthy and friendly atmosphere among us. And we are led by an Oom whom I have the greatest respect.
If you grew up in a small Afrikaans town you’ll understand what I mean by this. Some Ooms are not racist. They are Afrikaner. And Afrikaner history and culture value hard work and having the right attitude. So having Oom lead us by shaping us into having the right attitude to work (and life) is truly amazing. Each week one learns something new that leads to some form of personal development.
But it’s still work. The work environment has the ability to strangle you. The work environment is not your mother’s place. It is an environment where you are actively working towards building someone else’s dreams and goals. At the workplace, you are not human. You are a resource, a cog in the bigger gear that propels the capitalist machinery.
I remember when I quit my job in 2021. To this day, it remains one of the most liberating acts that I have ever expressed. I felt this huge load fall off my shoulder. I remember that the goal was simple. I was going home to live out my life the way I see fit. And how did I see it fit?
Here were the main objectives at the time:
· In my heart I believe I’m an educator. I believe I am a thinker. This is my gift to the world. So I was going to focus 100% on my blog to give to the world as much as I can of my gift.
· I was going to venture into business. At the end of the day, money is important but I didn’t want to sacrifice my time for a paycheck. Especially in my hometown of Harrismith where employers are slave drivers who have no respect for their employees.
· Lastly, I was going to build my body. It is the educator in me that was propelling this notion. A healthy mind is a result of a healthy body. Yes, there are those who have physical ailments and still be the smartest in the room. But if you have been blessed with a healthy and sound body, it is best to protect it.
Those were the three objectives that would govern my new chapter in life. It was a special moment. And how it all started was pretty special too.
It was a Thursday evening. I sat by my computer contemplating my life decisions. The institution that I was working for had drastically cut my paycheck by half the original amount that I was earning. The other place where I had worked, for close to 5 years, was giving me subtly signs that my time there was coming to an end. And it did. So, during that rainy evening, my heart was heavy.
That very same evening I read my contract and I read my rental lease agreement. In my contract, it stated that I should give a two-week notice. And if I didn’t, they’ll sue me or take the days off my paycheck. They were already paying me peanuts anyway and suing me would actually cost them more. There was no lose situation for me at that moment.
My lease agreement stated that I should provide them with a month’s notice. The month of October had not ended and November would be my notice. That rainy Thursday night, I resigned from my workplace and sent a notice letter to my landlord.
The night, however, had just begun. It was about 7 pm when I sent these respective letters. From 7 pm until about 11 pm, I was packing my things in my car. Luckily, the place had furniture so I did not carry anything that required a trailer or something of this nature. Everything fit snugly in the Tazz. At 4 am the next day, I was gone.
To this day, I do not regret the decision. To this day, I find it to be the single most liberating act that I have ever done. But like Neo trying to make the first jump, we never get it right the first time. And I know that I can’t do it the same way now. I have to have a calculated approach.
But the lesson still remains with me. There is something liberating when you decide to follow your heart. When one learns to trust the heart, one has the opportunity to become alive. Is it scary? Yes. Is it childish? Yes. But because it is childish and it is scary, that is what makes it worth living.
When the heart pumps extra blood into the bloodstream, that’s when one is most alive. When climbing a mountain, the fear that you might fall makes you enjoy the moment and feel alive. When one dances their problems away on the dance floor, their minds are filled with euphoria and they feel alive.
Those who are dead, because they are slaves to the system, will judge the mountain climber and ask him why would he risk his life like that. They will judge the dancer and ask her why would she dance freely and make herself a show for prowling men. These dead souls cannot see that the mountain climber and dancer are not chasing life for others. But rather, they are chasing life for themselves.
It can be said the same applies to us, adventurers. Is it dangerous to intentionally get lost whether in the city or back home in the small town of Harrismith? Yes, it is. Is it dangerous to go into hidden pockets of nature where it’s isolated? Yes, it is. But we do it anyway. It keeps us alive. And we know that in those pockets, we’ll discover something new about the world around us and also, about ourselves.
And herein lies the purpose of this post. The workplace robs one to do that. It is expected of you to arrive at work from 8 am until 4 pm. Lucky for us who work for organisations that have work-from-home policies. The expectations are the same but the change of environment provides a false mask that you not working when you actually are. But there are organisations, such as most businesses back home, that are sweatshops.
The owners are egotistical tyrants who grind their employees to the bone. And such was my previous establishment. They expected us there to be there from 8 am until 4:30 pm, Monday to Friday and also on Saturday from 8 am until 1 pm. Dare you request leave. Dare you become sick. Dare you say no to a task that was way outside the scope of your job. You will be micro-managed and placed under a microscope.
I remember this one time they were even targeting my blog. Lucky for me, my line manager was a chilled-out lady. She told me how it happened that they discovered my blog and how they would prefer I stop writing or change what I write about. Imagine. These possessive and controlling tyrants believed that employees are their property. Like a slave. That I would forsake my blog, my purpose on this Earth for their benefit.
No shame in it, I cried in the campus manager’s office. At the back of my mind, I was already planning my resignation again. Because I genuinely love my job as an educator. And I was in KZN, my land of milk and honey. But no way was I going to sacrifice my blog for that organisation. Fortunately, the campus manager calmed me down and even encouraged me to write a newsletter for the campus.
It is such individuals at the workplace that help to make the workplace bearable. But the fact remains, it’s still work. It is still an environment where you are a resource. It is still an environment where you are a factor of production. And if your productivity does not aid the organisation to achieve its mandate and objectives, you are out the door.
Such an environment, no matter how hard organisations may try, can never be healthy for the human soul. And therein lies my dilemma. I love my job, but hate the work.
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