I’ve been fired from a job once in my life. I had this cushy part-time job when I was back in college working for campus computing. I got to drive a sweet blue truck around campus to the various computing sites, fixing computers that were on the fritz and reloading printer paper. There wasn’t much to it. If I missed a site or four during my rounds, it wasn’t a big deal, someone on the next shift would probably get to it. Best part of the job was that you could park a university vehicle freaking anywhere: on sidewalks, in the middle of the quad, whatever. Mostly I would just clock in at the beginning of a four hour shift, hit a couple of sites, then drive home in the sweet blue truck and watch tv, then drive back at the end of my shift and clock out. The job was so chill I even scheduled a class during my work hours, during which time I would neither be in class nor working. (Still got an A by the way. Econ 102…cake.) I only got paid $7 an hour, but it was $7 an hour to do nothing.
Anyways, I’d been working there for about a year or so, and our super laid-back boss quit and they brought in this new guy as supervisor. We never got along from the outset, partly because I was talking to girls in the computer lab during his orientation speech (but they needed technical assistance!) and partly because of my rather, uh, casual approach to my job. I showed up late for my 10 am shift one morning, and he gave me a warning. When I showed up late a second time, he unceremoniously asked me to turn in my keys to that sweet blue truck.
Now, this was a job I quite obviously did not give a crap about. It was barely a real job, and a part-time one at that. In addition, I didn’t really need the money all that badly and I had other part-time jobs, and could easily work more at other jobs to make up the lost wages. But, despite all that, I walked home after being fired feeling utterly despondent, like I had been kicked in the gut. Despite the fact that I made no effort to gain approval, why did rejection hurt so much? Thinking back on it now, the biggest reason had to be that by getting fired I came to realize that I did not have any control over the situation. Regardless of whether I thought my boss was a moron (he was) or how highly I thought of myself (very high), I did not have the final say because I was not in a position of power. And that just seemed extremely unfair.
Fast forward to 2011. Early this year, I decided to leave my job. But I hesitated for months, thinking that it would be better to wait until they let me go instead of simply quitting. From a financial point of view, it made perfect sense. If I simply did nothing, I could collect my salary for as long as they kept me on, and once they let me go, I could collect unemployment for several months afterwards. Of course, on the other hand, there was the issue of burning bridges. Well, considering my relationship with my former employer and my negative attitude towards my job over the past couple years, I think those bridges had already been burned. But there’s a difference between burning bridges and nuking the bridge and its vicinity so that no life can survive in the crater for a hundred years.
In the end, I did quit. From a cost-benefit perspective, I left a lot of money on the table in exchange for (a) feeling like my former employer didn’t totally hate me and (b) creating for myself the illusion that I had some semblance of control over the situation. In reality, I didn’t really have any power in the situation, but by at least preserving my fragile dignity, I at least allowed myself to start off the next stage of my professional life not feeling like complete garbage. Which is how I would have felt if I had gotten myself fired, even if intentionally.
Postscript: I actually wrote this post months ago, when I was leaving my old job. Six months into my new job, which I find to be more tolerable but still ultimately unsatisfying, I am now pondering the same dilemma. I think there might be something wrong with me.
liz
interesting, chris — i’ve never heard this story! and this is such an interesting dilemma. it’s a little absurd how many benefits you can earn from getting fired as opposed to doing the more responsible thing (in many cases) and leaving on your own terms; i didn’t realize that until i watched you debate what to do with your last job. it’s almost like the altruistic benefits of leaving are supposed to be a reward in themselves, but dangit, they should compensate you for that too. you kind of did them a favor by giving them notice and not doing something crazy or negligent to get yourself fired. i don’t know how they would execute something like that, but… anyways.
it makes sense that quitting gave you some sense of control in the situation, whether or not you actually had any. but i do want to challenge the notions that you had no control over the situation in which you got fired and your termination was unfair, because it seems like if you had taken the job seriously and shown up on time, you would have kept the job. no? i’m also not clear on why you felt like you had no control over your last job. is it because they could have terminated you at any time, regardless of your performance? true, you didn’t hold the power in the situation, but you also suggested that your risk of termination was heightened by the fact that you didn’t give a crap about the job, and that’s something that you do have some control over.
Chris
Yes, I could have shown up on time on toed the line and kept the job, but that’s not illustrative of my having control of the situation; in fact, the opposite is true. In all cases (my current job, my last job and my college job), I generally fulfilled the substantive performance requirements of my employment. But I don’t believe that showing up on time to my job is a “substantive” requirement. If I get the job done (refilling paper trays, drafting contracts, lawyering), why does anyone care HOW it gets done? That is my personal philosophy about work: I should be able to structure my own life as I see fit as long as I fulfill my basic obligations. If they are unhappy because I am showing up late, but still getting the job done (and often, getting the job done well), then we have a basic conflict of work philosophies, a conflict in which I will never prevail. So whether I toe the line and stay or refuse to and get fired, my only sense of “control” is to choose from those two unappetizing options.
liz
first of all, the mere thought of not showing up to work on time makes me anxious. maybe it’s because i’ve been a trainee since the beginning of time, maybe it’s because i’m female and firstborn and chinese and a multitude of things that incline me toward obedience, but flagrantly bucking the rules like that is unconscionable to me.
but back to the real issue. i agree with you, in theory, that if you get the job done, it shouldn’t matter when you come in. but i’m willing to wager that:
- about 95% of employers don’t agree with that and consider being on time to be 1. basic professionalism and 2. a non-negotiable part of the job.
- there are plenty of other young lawyers (or college students, or what have you) who would love your job and would not only show up on time but use their extra time to go above and beyond the basic requirements. in that case, as your employer, i have no reason to reward you for failing to show up on time. in fact, i would probably feel inclined to fire you, knowing that i could be getting a more efficient worker for the same cost, if not less. the only thing keeping me from firing you would probably be the fact that you’re meeting your basic contractual requirements, which i would probably counter by saying that you’re not giving the office the number of hours you’re contractually obligated to give.
basically, what i’m saying is that i still don’t understand how this is outside of your control. you know how the employer thinks, and you know what to do to keep yourself in his or her good graces. if you do those things and still get fired, then yes, it was beyond your control. but if you choose not to do them, i can’t say that you didn’t have something to do with it. you work for them, not vice versa. it seems to me that your attempt to assert control — by living according to your philosophy, not theirs — is what’s getting you into these precarious positions where you feel powerless.