Leaving the workplace - what's in a title?

This post is the latest in a series of personal observations about leaving the workplace. (See rethinking work & leaving the workplace - beyond the fear)

Since officially resigning about ten days ago, I’ve had some very interesting reactions from people.  While I have considered myself an artist for a couple of decades now, having had exhibits, sold paintings and given lessons to others, when people would asked, “What do you do?” I would normally answer that I was a church secretary or a substitute teacher, depending on the part-time job I had at the time. 

You see, even when polite company asks you “What do you do?” and one replies, “I paint” or “I am an artist”, there is a slight narrowing of the eyes, a bubbling up of suspicion.  And who can blame them?  Even works of art that hang in museums and galleries often cause us to wonder if the work was done by a real painter or by a couple of angry cats fighting it out in the artist’s studio.

We are just more comfortable when people have a real job with a job title and are doing their part to keep the economy chugging along.  Take for instance an encounter I had with a neighbour last week, a married woman, who is the sole breadwinner in her family of four who does the lion’s share of work both in the home and out.  When she asked if I was back at school yet (substitute teaching) I replied that I had resigned.  I suppose it would have helped had the poor woman had some type of warning that I was considering leaving work.  It isn’t easy for people to process this type of information on the spur of the moment. Whereas, if people suspect you might leave the ranks of the employed they have an opportunity to prepare themselves, to prevent their eyes from enlarging to the size of small saucers and their jaws from falling to their chests. 

What? You resigned?!

After all, society and indeed nature itself often gives us time to adjust to people’s pending change in status.  We sometimes label engaged women as brides-to-be; pregnancy (thankfully!!) gives us (and the neighbours) many months to prepare and adjust to our changing status of mom and dad. 

In my neighbour’s defense, she made a rather lovely recovery from her shock by noticing my dogs, whom I was walking at the time, and very kindly pointed out, “Well you have your dogs to take care of now.” Wasn’t that sweet?

It isn’t just my imagination.  Our youngest daughter is a stay-at-home mom to Sadie-Anne who is almost a year old.  People often ask her when she’s going back to “work”.  (In Quebec we have an awesome maternity/paternity program that allows new parents up to one year of paid leave.) She proudly tells them she’s a stay-at-home mom, but that she is technically already back at work as the co-founder of the Eat, Play, Love Animal Rescue  a non-profit which she co-manages out of her home.  While most do not understand the calling to rescue animals that are at risk, they are happy to have a “work label” to attach to the job title of Mom (as if it needed anything added!).

Also this week, my husband and I met with our financial advisor to set up a new investment.  Our advisor was filling in the required form when he came to the box entitled job title there was a long moment of hesitation, the advisor looked to me and I glanced at my husband who replied, “Artist”.  Yes, I thought, Artist!   

Thank you for taking time to stop by My Turquoise Kettle Life.

Have yourself a lovely day ,you are en-titled to it.

Sandra