One of the more difficult jobs I had, once upon a time, was that of career counselor at an unemployment office. I loved my colleagues; they were good-hearted people who made every workday fun, but the clientele was challenging.
It’s true that providing encouragement to those who are out of work can be draining but I loved being in that role. Every client was unique and while some were chronically unemployed or underemployed (unable to find positions commensurate with their education or experience) the opportunity to see a vast range of the human experience – all from one vantage point – made every day fascinating. Okay, often the days were exhausting, too, but as a student of human behavior, I adored the front row seat and my proximity to behavior that was often left of center. Way left. So far left that it was sometimes coming around to the right. 😉 One client in particular stands out, even twenty years later, and yesterday I wondered what became of him. But first let me explain why he rumbled through my brain.
I had a chat with a dear friend yesterday…let’s call her Sarah…who complained of her dad’s eccentricities. Sarah is a thirty-something smart cookie who chose to move in with her parents after a painful (both emotionally and financially) break-up and divorce. As she’s mending her heart and resetting her budget, she’s found fun distractions as she melds into her parents’ daily routines.
Her dad, she says, must’ve been a poor excuse for an opera singer in another life because he adores his high-volume sing-alongs – not just in the shower but part of his extended morning routine. She adjusted and learned to take her Zoom meetings from the farthest corner in the house. Despite Sarah’s dislike for her dad’s taste in music, she’s becoming fond of his operatic interludes as a soundtrack to her morning coffee. She also learned her mom’s secret. Ear plugs and she knows how to use them.
As Sarah giggled about her parents’ quirky behavior, she admitted it’s a gift to be back in her childhood home with them again. Her only sibling died years ago and the circumstances were a carefully guarded family secret. The truth? Her brother lost his life due to an overdose. Accidental? Intentional? Did it matter? The shame forced both she and her parents into a web of intricate half-truths, unwilling or unable to say the word ‘addict’.
For a few years the lies drove a wedge between Sarah and her parents because she felt the cover-up was unhealthy. I suspect she was right. In addition to her mother’s penchant for ear plugs, she began day drinking to drown out more than her dad’s Pavarotti routine.
Sarah didn’t plan to move in with her parents, but she’s grateful for the opportunity to tune into the cadence of their lives, observe changes in behavior and their overall health so she can “get ahead” of (as she puts it) the challenges to come.
After I visited with Sarah, I thought about a favorite client of mine from my days working at the unemployment office. His name was Carl, and I hadn’t thought about him for years and years. I’m sure talking with Sarah summoned Carl from my memory “way back” machine…and it was all about joyful singing. But not opera…I’ll explain.
Carl was a maintenance worker by day, laid off repeatedly from his gigs as a night janitor. He became one of my favorite clients, perhaps because I saw him A LOT. When he’d get fired, he preferred to say he was ‘let go’ or ‘laid off’ – even though he knew better. Carl would do what was asked, most nights, but often he’d get lost in his own intricate stories, re-enacting his favorite scenes from Broadway shows when he should’ve been dumping the trash.
Carl’s favorite? “Oklahoma” and I honestly think, had his life taken a turn toward acting, he could’ve been a tour de force. The man…he could SING! But as is true with other tortured, talented, and creative souls, he sometimes lost himself in his imaginary world, making it impossible to comply with job duties.
After about six months of watching Carl cycle through several jobs where he was fired for dereliction in duty (my favorite ‘termination reason’ was “unauthorized singing on the job”) I asked Carl if he might consider alternative employment – something other than night janitor and maintenance work. He smiled and asked if I was getting tired of helping him, which broke my heart. I knew he enjoyed the solitude of his night job but there were so many other options. I suggested exploring one where singing on the job wasn’t problematic…find a way for him to sing WHILE he worked.
It was a slow slog. I suspected Carl had some developmental delays and while he lived on his own, his family background and educational experiences pointed to challenges. Because of the requirements tied to his unemployment insurance, he was required to meet with me once a week, but he really just came for friendship moments. He’d show his “job search update” card to his case worker and when it was my turn to visit with him, Carl would begin every session with a song. I was okay with that because it was his quirk, but my office was a center-stage atrium space in the middle of a cavernous office – with windows all around. It was so lacking in sound proofing that I ran my ambient noise machine constantly and I begged for months to get some privacy blinds. Please…
My colleagues loved Carl’s visits. His appointments were usually in the early afternoon and his renditions of showtunes became impromptu entertainment in the chaotic office. Colleagues and clients would stop what they were doing to turn toward my office to watch and listen to Carl sing. An interlude of his own – a free show of song and joy – not unlike Sarah’s dad and his morning routine of belting out Pavarotti.
There are days where I need to be reminded that differences are good. People who are enjoying life in ways unique and wonderful should be celebrated, not judged. Everyone copes with pain, loss and loneliness in their own way. As I thought about Carl, and memories sparked by Sarah talking about her parents, and her dad’s love of opera, more than anything I send them love. Different is good.
Vicki 😎
Victoria Ponders 
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