Part 1: The Grant
One evening, my best friend and I were talking when we discovered that we had similar interests in starting a community center. Within weeks, she had gathered a grant application from the local city government, and we began writing the grant and laying the foundation for the community center. We worked through the application and ideas about the center for about three months. The day came when we completed the application, and the final decision was our roles in the organization. Without hesitation, we both agreed that she would be the director and I would work as program manager. The application was submitted in February, and a month later, we learned that we had been awarded funds to start and operate the center.
After we learned of the award, things started to change between my friend and me. She would not return my calls; communication had ceased altogether.
The day came for the funds to be awarded at City Hall. I called her to see if she wanted to go and accept the award together, but again, she did not answer or return my call.
I decided to go to the award meeting at City Hall alone. By the time I arrived, there was standing room only. I peeped into the chambers and saw my friend sitting on the front row with two ladies sitting beside her. After the meeting adjourned, I waited for her in the hall, and as she walked by, I said, “Hey, we got it.” She simply laughed and kept walking with the two ladies sitting beside her.
I knew that a meeting was scheduled just a few days after the award date, so I decided to attend the meeting in the place where the community center was to be set up. When I arrived at the building, I saw the two ladies that had been sitting with my friend in the City Hall chambers. I asked my friend what I could do to help with setting up the meeting and she said that she had all the help that she needed. I left and went home.
The next day, my friend contacted me and invited me to swim. We had barely entered the pool when she started telling me that she did not have the resources to employ me. I told her that I realized and had prepared for the challenges and that it wasn’t a problem. She told me that she did not have the benefits to give me. I told her that I was not concerned about benefits at that point. She eventually told me that she had decided to split my job between the two interns that she was already working with at her present job. She said that she was familiar with their work ethic and that she was most comfortable with working with them versus me. I left the pool that evening without a position in an organization I had helped create. That moment changed me. I went home with something broken inside of me. I did not tell my family what happened, but they knew something was wrong as I fell into a profound funk. How could my friend and Christian sister discard me the way that she did?
I was already employed then, but had given my notice when we were awarded the funds from the grant. I went to my HR department, and they were happy to rescind my resignation, but because the company was downsizing, I had to eliminate 3 to 4 positions on my clerical team. I did not have the heart to do it. The ladies on my team all had issues of some sort, a disabled child, extremely obese with health challenges, was in an abusive relationship while plotting her escape and the list goes on. After all, they didn’t decide to leave; I did. I liked the job but was looking for something different anyway, I left my resignation on the table. I needed other employment, so I worked overnights at Walmart for about 4 months. For those months, I worked and went home to find solace in my bed away from the world. I was still deeply hurt by the person who I thought was my friend.
Part 2: Change of Heart
My friend called me in July and needed help with her summer program. I accepted the job and worked overnights from 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. and during the summer program from 8 a.m. to 3 p.m for three weeks. I enjoyed the program so much, I wasn’t even tired. It was a blast and I made some decent money working the program.
In September, my friend called and offered me a position as program manager in the organization. She said the interns she hired to replace me were not working out as she had thought, and she needed the help. I accepted and dove right into work. I wanted to talk about why she replaced me in the first place, and I wanted to tell her how that affected me, but she refused to talk about it. No apology was offered; I just had to be okay with how she treated me. I thought I could be okay with that for a while, but time would tell me that I was not.
Part 3: Iron Will Bend
The community center was connected to a church where my friend was a pastor. Before long, she had hired church members to work at the community center. It was not a good fit as there was abuse of resources and sometimes no work at all. One lady, ran up up a $400 long distance phone bill, she snuck in the community center after hours to do several loads of laundry. her children went through the classrooms and dismantled them at night, and one of her kids would fingerprint with poop on the walls.
I was working 10 to 13 hours days, but it did not seem like work because I loved my job. It became stressful when I began to have to fill in for the employees who were not fulfilling their jobs. One time, I put together and entire event for a co-workers who claimed she was sick, but in fact she was a hair braid that day getting her hair and make up done for the event. The event started at 6pm and she showed up promptly at 5:59pm. Just in time to start on time but late enough not to have to lift a finger to get anything done. As for me, I was an exhausted, sweaty mess from head to toe from setting up the event. I argued with my friend that evening. I told her how ridiculous it was for her as well as other employees to continue to get away with things like this, but she just told me that I could endure it.
Another time, that same employee had her children in the community center after hours and one of them did the fingerprinting with poops again. That morning, when I did a sweep of the building, I saw classrooms that were neatly manicured the evening before in complete disarray and when I entered one of the restrooms, the wall was smeared with feces. I marched down to the director’s office (my friend) where she was meeting with her husband and told her that I was drawing the line with cleaning feces off the wall. Her husband told me that the strong have to bear the infirmities of the weak and that I would be blessed and rewarded for just taking care of the wrong things. I told them both that I absolutely would not clean the walls, and I did not. The director put on rubber gloves and went to clean the wall.
This type of activity continued from the employees and I was encouraged by management to continue to be kind and stomach the behavior because they were young Christians and needed to be allowed time to grow. All the while, I grew angry, bitter, and felt used at the expense of management tolerating mess and not wanting to confront their church members. Iron that stays in the fire for too long….will bend.
Part 4: Not Dumbing This Down