Pay raise Part II

I waited, silently wishing that he wouldn't show up. I inched closer to the outside wall where the sun spilled onto green benches from large windows and automatic doors, searching for a signal. I leaned against the cold wall and tapped on my phone, checking my e-mail. My student was late as usual, knowing that the role was not called until ten minutes after class had started. That suited me just fine, giving me enough time to get my messages.

I scrolled through a few insignificant messages, spam and what not, and then my eyes landed on the following message: "Samantha, I would like to set up a meeting to discuss your concerns. Please let me know when you are available."

Gulp. I hadn't anticipated a face to face meeting. Instead I expected a dry, straight forward e-mail stating the schools' case and how my expectations and desires were not going to be honored. Or, I expected no e-mail at all. All I knew is that when I sent that letter - very professional and non-emotional (the longer, more elaborate version, by the way) - I did not expect this. I felt as if I had been called into the principal's office.

Soon after my student strolled into class and I had done my job, I found a computer where I could more quickly type out my sentiments. "Sure." I replied. "I would be happy to meet with you. Here is my availability. . ."

Perhaps I sounded a little too eager, a little too chipper, but I wanted to make it clear that I was not preparing for a heated confrontation.

I waited for a day. Two days. A week. Nothing. Then, one day a client didn't show up to class. I HAD to go to my boss's office to report the absence and find out where else she would like me to go, that being the protocol when you have an absence.

"While you're here" she says, "we can talk." Gulp.

"Oh, yeah! Sure! Love to." Gulp.

She makes small talk and eventually we get down to business. My anger and frustration with the situation having been diffused, I no longer care what her reasons are for retracting a portion of the pay raise.

She makes her case. She isn't the one responsible for deciding how much we get paid. She is overwhelmed with her position as she is doing two peoples' jobs and she accidentally wrote the wrong amount on our contracts. New contracts are on their way. I begin to feel sorry for her.

I expressed my feelings of frustration with the system, my suspicion that my abilities were not being taken seriously or appreciated and however, that I was still happy to have some kind of raise. Before I left I did my best to assure her that I was happy to work here, and I did not still harbor any ill feelings about the situation.

So, the pay raise retraction still stood. I wasn't getting any favors.

I figured after such a meeting, I needed to relax a bit. I called the nail salon and made an appointment for two at 5:45. Mani and pedi. My friend, Lily, got off work, and we headed to Lina's Nails. We had talked about doing this for awhile, and since I was also flying to Florida for the weekend, it seemed a good time to plan such pampering.

In our area there are numerous nail salons. I could have chosen any, but his was my nail salon of choice because of the great service and low prices. However, I was in walking distance of approximately five other nail salons. So, you'll imagine my surprise as I walked into Lina's and saw my boss at the nearest manicure table. The same lady I just sat with discussing my concerns about money.

We stared at each other and smiled. I'm thinking, I just saw you an hour ago. What the-? Why this salon?!

"Hi."

"Hi."

(me) "Ummmm. . . .wow, what are you doing here? Well, of course, you are getting your nails done . . . but wow - you're here. Ummmmm. . . this is my friend, Lily. This is a lady I work with. . .well, good to see you. Funny." Nervous giggle.

Of all the nail places she could have gone, she chose this one!!! I'm floored. I make my way to the pedicure chair, all the while thinking how ironic it must seem that I am getting my nails done when I just expressed disdain at an insufficient pay raise. I feel like a fool.

Pay raise

I opened the envelope expecting a check. Instead, I was met with something much better. A letter from one of the colleges I work for stating that all interpreters were receiving a pay raise across the board. Because I do not have any state or national certifications yet, I am at the bottom rung receiving a $10 an hour raise as opposed to my more skilled and credentialed colleagues who received a $15 an hour raise. So be it! I'll take the $10 raise.

I waited a day, reading carefully over all the points in the contract, then signed it and happily sent it on it's way. Finally, I was receiving my due payment for a job well done! Because the original hourly rate was the lowest pay rate in the area, I was ecstatic to finally be closer to par with the rest of the interpreting world.

A few days later, I receive yet another skinny white envelope with one brief letter which stated, "I am sorry to inform you but all interpreters who are not state or nationally screened will not be paid the previous pay raise, but rather will be paid X amount ($5/hr less)." That was it. No explanation. No new contract. Nothing.

Immediately, my blood begin to boil. You would think I would be grateful for just the $5/hr raise, but I felt cheated. I felt disrespected. Someone was breaking their vow with me and I didn't like it!

I read the letter to my husband and voiced my frustration.

"What should I do? I should e-mail 'so and so', shouldn't I?"

"No, you can't e-mail her right now! Just wait! Think about it. You can't e-mail someone while you're mad."

He was right. So I went to bed and stared at the ceiling while I fumed. And I thought about it for two days. I had signed a contract, hadn't I? Yes, I had. I am entitled to the $10/hr raise. Yes, yes I am.

So, tonight I have drafted two e-mails. One, the brief version basically stating "You will honor the contract that both you and I have signed." And the other one a more elaborate version of the first stating the same idea with a little more fluff such as "Let me remind you that I am screened in other states, etc." When my husband gets home I'll read both to him and hopefully he can help me decide which is most professional and direct without being rude and burning bridges.

Am I confronting this issue in the right manner? I don't know. I believe I should stand up for myself, and if the outcome is unsatisfactory, I can always choose not to contract with them for next semester.

The Interlude

I don't speak to old friends much on the phone. No, instead we choose to keep in touch from afar through e-mail. I learn of pregnancies, births, changes in locations, phone numbers, and e-mail addresses, about successes and, unfortunately, deaths in this manner. Last night was one of those nights where I received such an e-mail.

A friend I grew up with, and who recently moved to the New England area, drafted a mass e-mail sharing of some heart breaking news. She explained that her dog, Lenny, was attacked and killed by another dog yesterday while outside to do "his business." She stated that it was quick, but he looked pretty bad. It broke my heart when I read, "Lenny was like my child. I'm not taking this well." My friend went on to request that no cards, e-mails or phone calls be made to her regarding the incident. However, she strongly asked for A LOT OF PRAYER. She closed by repeating that no cards or e-mails be sent and no phone calls made to her.

I was expecting company at any minute. My husband had invited a few people (which turned into many people) over for a LOST party (you know - the tv show). Knowing that I would soon have to be up on my feet and cheery, I fought back tears and put my head in my hands, then on my desk.

It seems weird to some, even ridiculous to mourn a pet so intensely. Perhaps that's because they've either never had a pet or they've never had one they love. I suppose that the reason this morbid bit of news affected me so is because I could feel her pain. I haven't lost a pet in such a horrific manner, but I, too, love my pets as if they were my children. I don't have children so all my affections are showered upon these two fur balls as if they were little people. I couldn't imagine some horrible creature (dog or stray cat) fiercly ending my furbaby's life and me not being able to do a darn thing about it. The thought of it turns my stomach.

It was still on my mind when I woke up this morning, while I ate breakfast and while I drove to my hair appointment. I prayed for my friend during the car ride and then later when I spent some quiet time with God. I wondered why such painful sorrow exists in the world. Why needless losses are suffered everyday. And as I pondered, I opened up my devotional book (Streams in the Desert) and a sentence caught my attention. It read, "The woe and the waste and the tears of life belong to the interlude and not to the finale." The interlude. Yes, for whatever reason that evil must exist on this earth, it is only for a short time. This is not the finale. Perhaps this doesn't lend much comfort to those that are hurting. But, to me, thoughts and meditations such as that, snippets of biblical wisdom were a great deal of comfort when I lost my brother last year to a very unneccesary accident. To know that this tremendous void will someday end, gave me a sense of peace in the midst of my pain.

I often wondered why God allows certain tragedies to happen, like a friend of mine who lost her baby in her fifth month of pregnancy. She had to give birth and hold her little guy in her arms. She then put him in a box to be cremated which now sits on her mantle at home. Why?

I have at least five friends that have experienced painful divorces; friends that are depressed, family members that are sick, those that want desperately to have a baby but can't. And why? Does God use our pain in some way to teach us? As my husband once tried to explain to me, "God did not do this 'to you', Sam. He allowed it to happen. And God uses those tragedies to grow us."

This is the interlude, not the finale.

It helps to know that whatever my loss, God knows my pain. He doesn't leave me in anguish. He reassures me that we're only passing through, and that He'll give us strength for the journey. I'm looking forward to the finale.