cutting the fat

Joseph Beuys, Fat Chair

I must admit that in "polite society" the title of my last blog entry is a bit jarring.  Jarring as it might be, it represents my disdain for meaningless "information" in the widest possible definition of that word.  In my dealings with people and the world, for better or worse, I like to cut to the chase.  Unfortunately, I live in a part of the world, the American South, where cutting to the chase is viewed, at best, with weariness (a fact confirmed by a very good friend of mine who was born and raised here and left for the straightforward shores of New York City). 

Recently I got fired from my job.  Well, technically, I was "not hired" and it wasn't so recently.  I had worked part-time at a job that turned into full-time for which I was asked to apply to by my chairman.  I was indeed given the option of keeping my part-time job; but to cut to the chase, I was tired of being treated like shit and figured, erroneously, that if I worked full-time at it, I'd rediscover the pride I once felt about the place.  

Being treated "like shit" should not have come as a surprise, for part-time teaching jobs are by nature shitty and I should have taken it as a given.  But given the nature of the place, and the heady plans we had for it when "we", and I was very much involved at the time, set up the program, I never got used to the reality that, as the years went by, working conditions deteriorated rather than improved, as planned, through the embodiment of the principles I thought the place purported to be built upon and to uphold.  Principles having to do with working artists teaching, REALLY teaching, in the grandest and widest definition of this word, and expanding young minds through the arts and the humanities rather than by setting up a very average high school with art as an after school activity (which is in essence what happened).

As "working conditions deteriorated", I did voice my displeasure; and yes, I did it publicly (if one could possibly call my blog public); a no-no in contemporary society that I knew could bite me in the ass.  But already at the time, voicing my opinion in the only way I was allowed to and knew how had become as important to me as the job. Apparently, thanks to the magic of Google, my blog really is public, and it ruffled feathers up high, sealing my fate; though nothing was told to me directly at the time, or even now.  

Once I was in the running to keep doing my job in a full-time capacity, the blog and my vociferous verbal voicing of opinion did indeed bite me.  And although I "made it" to the final phase of the job search, there was pressure from above to get rid of me; so I had no real chance from the very beginning.  What rankles is all the bullshit I had to go through to get that final slap on the face. Truthfully, I would have liked it better if when I first publicly voiced my opinion, "they" had given me the option of rescinding it or leaving; but those are not the dance steps practiced here.  

I was told that although I was applying for a ten month position, I was fired (ok, “not hired”) because I did not readily acquiesce to teaching 9th and 10th graders in summer (notice: not a legal part of the position).  If only I had the temperament, I would have, like my cousin suggested that I do, hired a lawyer to punch holes though their decision and get compensated for it.  But at that point, hell, fuck it.  

This is an old story that apparently I am still “processing"....  ...And I had set out to write a blog about values and cutting the fat....  During my job interview, which was being conducted by what at one point I considered friends, I was specifically told these words: "Katya, I know you will come to me when you see something you think is bullshit and you will tell me; and I value that."  Well, I did; and I always do.