To Quit or Not to Quit
It’s been a little over a week since I quit my job at an immigration law firm. I’m agradecida for being able to do this without another job lined up. Money doesn’t grow on trees; however, I’ve been saving and it’s tax refund season, so my decision to leave without a backup plan has turned out to be a good decision thus far.
One of my retos has been finding a job that is a good fit. Even more so, it’s been relying on an occupation to define me. My first job out of college was in campus ministry, which I was proud to do. But then I missed speaking Spanish and Portuguese so I tried working in a call center.
(screen shot from my Quitting call center job party invite on FB way back when)
And that headset did not fit so well. I know it’s dramático but I felt like I was imprisoned. I stuck it out for two years because of the friends I made and the time it gave me to do songwriting since I only worked 40 hours a week. It was during this time I wrote the song, “I Don’t Really Give a Damn” to be released on my next project.
Eventually, it weighed me down, so I needed to make un cambio. My love for speaking in another language continued to guide my career path, so I tried teaching. I taught español to folks like myself, growing up in a predominately white, monolingual neighborhood.
(new hair new me)
I remember reteaching cómo te llamas and cómo estas to middle schoolers despite them having taken Spanish for the past 8 years. I was losing my Spanish. So I felt the itch to move on. What felt like divine intervention, I came upon an opportunity to teach Spanish to heritage language learners (students who speak Spanish at home).
I thought, que maravilla. I’ll get to keep up with my Spanish and hopefully inspire a love in the students’ hearts for their mother tongue. Yeah that did not work out so well. Bem, I tried my best, but in the end, teaching adolescentes were not for me. So I left that job too.
(me happy the school year was over)
Which leads me to being a recepcionista at an immigration law firm. I chose this job because I wanted something low stakes that dealt with immigration law. I thought, hey I could be a lawyer. That’d be cool. It was ironic to return to taking phone calls since I had hated working in a call center four years prior.
It wasn’t all gloomy. I did have down time. Something I was not used to one bit. Me acuerdo telling my roommate how shocked I was to have time to look at my phone during the day. As a 1-8th grade Spanish teacher, I felt like I was always running around with my head cut off. Partly because it was a busy job and also because I was a wee bit spacey. I also got to meet people from all around the world.
Another perk included hablando español e português. Most of the clients preferred to speak Spanish, so my Spanish improved greatly. I also got some insight on immigration law, which, might I add, USCIS is a P.I.A.* as is ICE.
For better or worse, I felt the itch to leave yet another job. I was offered a paralegal position, but I couldn’t stomach being stuck at a desk filling out forms day in and day out. Plus my down time was going to go to zero without any pay bump.
The challenge I had, though, was when to quit and what should I do? I kept applying to jobs and got to final interviews tres vezes without success 😡. I read What Color is Your Parachute? And it became really clear that I needed to pursue something more performative and creative. ¿Pero cómo?
Last I checked, you couldn’t just waltz into the acting or music world and say I’d like a full time creative job with benefícios porfa 🙏. I also had no career aspirations apart from something creative. I felt much like Charlie from It’s Always Sunny.
So I kept working at the firm. Feeling cringe every time I told someone I was a receptionist (which is more a me problem). It wasn’t just the fact that I didn't like being a receptionist, I didn’t like working there. I hated taking calls and it became difficult to be charitable to clients. But I felt stuck because I had no idea what kind of job I could stomach.
Then it was the eve of my 31st birthday. The night before my 32nd year of life. And it dawned on me, it was time. I needed to decidir. So I sat on my bed, weighed my options and decided I wanted to quit.
No meu aniversário, I turned in my one month notice and said it was time I bid adieu. And on March 21st the day before my dad’s birthday, who passed away this past December, I worked at the office for the last day. I hope it’s my last office job. And I’m grateful I can go on a wee hiatus before deciding what to do next. Vão ver the next job I’ll quit.
