Are We What We Do Or Is It The Other Way Round

The other day a new housekeeper came into our office to clean. She was clearly new to the job and we pointed out what needed to be addressed. As we chatted, she was only too eager to share her story. She bitterly recounted how in the final days of her medical leave she was informed that her job had been eliminated. She had to scramble to find something else, and in desperation took a night shift housekeeping position then switched to the day shift position when it became available. She clearly took the entire affair personally.

Not too many days later, the area where she had previously worked was given the Pulse Award for achievement in making important and vital changes to their area. The hospital where I work was hemorrhaging red ink only a few years ago and the current administration that came in has reversed many decades of weak management and turned things around--not without a price. In this context, it was clear that the housekeeper's eliminated position was part of the restructuring. Although the timing was unfortunate, it was not personal. She described what her responsibilites had been and it clearly was a redundant position.

When I started in home health nine years ago, they had two administrators, a branch manger, three supervisor/managers, and another half dozen support staff positions. They now make due with less than half those numbers. My position was one that was eliminated. I didn't wait for them to push me out; I saw the writing on the wall and moved on.

One can look at any number of arenas and see similar down-sizing occurring. I'm sorry, but I can't bring myself to use the management buzzword "right-sizing." One only need look to our unemployment figures in these dire economic times to understand the vast scope of the problem. Most everyone knows of a friend or family member who has lost their position.

The husband of a good friend lost his management job a few years back within a year or two of qualifying for his pension. He was devastated. However, he chose not to see the writing on the wall - denial can be very powerful. In the year or so of unemployment that followed, he became increasingly morose. I wasn't certain if their marriage would survive.

A key element of the problem lay in his definition of self. He had worked in retail management for close to 30 years. That was his career. Without even considering the lost income and the lost pension and benefits, his sense of self was shattered. My father and my uncle went through similar situations in their fifties as well.

Once he began to climb out of his emotional hole, he struggled to redefine himself and find another career. I gently questioned his need for a career at this stage of his life. His son was grown and out of the house. He was about a decade from retirement. Why not simply find something to bring money in and stop worrying about career? In the end, he did just that. He took a retail job where he could apply his years of experience, and, at the same time, not have to worry about all the responsibility that comes with a management, "career-type" position.

My paternal grandmother struggled in a similar fashion. She only worked outside the home briefly when she was young. Her entire sense of self hung on her role as mother and housewife. Over time, she was able to modify that role to grandmother. However, once the grandchildren were adults, or the last couple nearly so, she began to lose her sense of self. To make matters worse, she also began to lose her vision, making many of her hobbies and interests exceedingly difficult. She could no longer garden. She could no longer read. She could no longer watch baseball. She began to simply disappear and gradually a form of dementia began to take hold.

How do we define ourselves? Is that definition static? Can it change? Some of us are very tied to labels...doctor, lawyer, teacher, priest, nurse. Each of those positions comes with years of training and also develops out of significant personality traits that we bring to the table. I am a nurse. However, in many ways I was a nurse long before I ever was licensed by the state.

My current job actually does not have a hands on direct care component. Does this mean that I am not really a nurse? Much of my patient care is now done via phone communication with our IV patients. About a month or so ago I was sitting at home talking on the phone when one of the neighbor kids burst in saying "We can't get my dad up and my mom said to come and get you..." before she burst into tears. On the way over to their house I had her call for an ambulance and then checked on him to see what was needed until the paramedics arrived. (In the end he was simply very dehydrated and after receiving IV fluids in the Emergency Room, was sent back home that same night).

I am a nurse and will always be a nurse. It is what I bring to whatever I do.

Similarly I am a Deacon. It matters not that I am no longer active in the Episcopal church. When my name was put forward a number of years ago in the midst of St. Paul's formation of a Mutual Ministry Team, I was required to meet with the bishop. I had many concerns that by accepting this title, I would then be taking on yet another stack of responsibilities and I wasn't sure that I could manage more drains on my time and energy. My bishop, the late Jim Kelsey, said something very important to me that day. "When I lay my hands on you at the ordination, I will not be making you a deacon. You are already a deacon--that is why you have been discerned for this role. I will merely be formally acknowledging what is already there."

Change is often very painful. A mother's heart breaks just a wee bit that first time their little one says, "NO! Mommy, I can do it MYSELF!" When the younger guys push the older guy aside and finish the job quicker, the proud man mourns a bit. I myself wax nostalgic whenever I see a naval vessel up close and personal.

The illusion of individuality is so tenuous, so easily shattered, so fragile. When our hearts break, we want the world to see and know our pain...but the world tends to respond, "Oh, I know what you're feeling..." In truth, they are correct. Not one of us has escaped losing key portions of our self definitions. Who among us has not had to grieve the passing of youth? Who among us has not cried over a lost love? We all have had to endure the fading of a dream as we realize it will not come to pass after all.

Yet we endure. I believe we endure because we are not what we do, but rather what we do is a reflection of who we are. Peace.