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Autumn 2009 | Vol 13 No 1

Focus

Job search

Reflections on the transition to work

By Byron Clarke

Caption:
For Bryon Clarke, work is the next big step in his recovery.

Byron Clarke recently completed the Redirection Through Education (RTE) program at George Brown College in Toronto. RTE is a supported education and work entry program for people with mental health or addiction issues. CrossCurrents asked Byron to keep a journal over the course of three months about his job search, expressing his hopes and fears as someone with a mental illness.

Getting ready to work

Work ... I haven’t worked since I was 14, stocking shelves at a local grocery store. When I experienced my first psychotic break at 16, I thought I might never work again, the prognosis being pretty dismal for something like schizophrenia. That, coupled with the “let’s wait and see” attitude of my doctors, left me not very confident in my chances for recovery.

My feelings about the process of getting a job are definitely a stew. I’m afraid of failing, of not being able to perform to the level required of me. I’m hopeful, cautiously optimistic that it will work. I’m resolved and motivated; I believe I’m ready for work. In a general sense I feel extremely proud and relieved that at age 24 I’ve made it to this stage in my recovery.

So I guess overall I have mostly positive feelings. I’m still in the process of finishing RTE. I have a few assignments pending, but what I’ve gained from the program was integral to getting to where I am now. In many ways it’s like going back to high school, only mixed in with the academics are practical courses designed to increase your social skills, confidence and workplace readiness. Thanks to the program I’ve got a great resume, insight into the interview process, experience working in groups, knowledge of my rights and responsibilities as a worker, and a ton more confidence that this is something I can do.

Now it’s time to step out of the wading pool and plunge into the deep end.

Developing a strategy

I’ve encountered a problem. I was spending the day with my girlfriend when she started reading my first journal entry. After a brief pause she said: “You haven’t worked since you were 14?! How are you going to explain the gap between then and now?” How indeed ... Do I lie to the employer, give false information about my work history and risk them finding out? Or do I reveal the real reason and risk being labelled and dismissed? It’s a catch-22.

I thought it over and decided to take the ancient Chinese military strategist Sun Tzu’s advice and turn my weakness into my strength. Tell them that yes, I had a psychotic break and was diagnosed with schizophrenia; yes, I spent the last five or six years getting my life and head back in order, but I’m now not only ready; I’m chomping at the bit to show the world what I can do. These might sound like empty words, but I’m confident and sincere, because I’ll finish the RTE program with straight A’s within the month and I’ve made great impressions in my volunteer and work placements. I’ll also tell potential employers that if they hire me, they won’t just be giving me a job; they’ll be giving me the opportunity to fulfill a goal I’ve had for many years to become self-sufficient, and that my gratitude will motivate me to be the best worker I could possibly be.

So, the next steps in my work search are to finish RTE with straight A’s, get reference letters from my work placement supervisor and teachers and write an inspiring cover letter explaining my situation and work ambitions.

What strikes me is the amount of work I’ll have to do just to remain on even ground with my peers. I feel a bit like a woman might have felt in the work world of the 1950s, trying to compete with men. Yes, I have found a solution that will likely work, but why is building a sort of comeback tale necessary?

Recovery from any serious mental illness can take years. For many of us, this breakdown happens at just the time we would start getting work experience. We have a legal right not to disclose illness to employers, but then how do we explain this large gap in our work history? And how do we explain to potential employers our participation in work-readiness programs like RTE, designed for people with mental health or addiction issues, without giving away our diagnoses? Showing potential employers my transcript from the program, even if it features straight A’s, amounts to telling them I have a mental illness. I’m afraid that this might stand in the way of finding a job.

Pounding the pavement

I’ve picked up my reference letter from George Brown. I’ve written my cover letter and my resume. Now it’s time to start pounding the pavement.

I’m a bit scared. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to handle the pressures and stresses of a job, even if it’s part time. RTE had similar hours, but it was designed for people like me. I had a counsellor to help me and received a lot of support and advice; the staff and teachers understood when I had difficulties and needed to hand in an assignment late, and missing classes due to a bad day was never frowned upon. But I realize there will be a big difference between this kind of program and the “real” world of work. I’ll essentially be on my own. I won’t have a choice whether or not to show up. I’ll just have to suck it up and be consistent. But I’m not certain I can pull it off. Still, what choice do I have? I have to work; it’s the next step in my recovery.

I’ve been handing out resumes this past week everywhere I can – McDonalds, Pizza Pizza, Starbucks and a few others. It was fun in a way. Another step taken into the adult world. My fingers are crossed.

A promising opportunity

It’s funny how things work out. Every day I go to a clubhouse for people with mental illness called Progress Place. I was there today, printing off a bunch of resumes and cover letters, when one of the workers approached and asked what I was up to. When I told him I was looking for a job, he asked whether I had heard of their transitional employment program (TEP). I was immediately interested – another possible avenue to work.

Through the program, Progress Place has work placement arrangements with large companies like Aramark, Winners, The Royal Bank and the Globe & Mail. The placements last from four to eight months, and range between two hours a day to four hours, five days a week. It’s generally entry-level work – maintenance and cleaning, bussing, clerical and mail room work, stocking shelves. Through the program, a support worker would accompany me during the training phase and act as a support and supervisor. In fact, if I were having a really bad day and couldn’t work, my support worker would actually cover for me. It’s perfect, I thought. I’d be getting the work experience I need, another reference letter and a support system to help me transition to work. My ambition says go for a real job, but my head knows that starting small is a safer and more realistic plan. Going from no work to full-time or part-time work would probably be too stressful. I might be setting myself up for failure.

The transitional employment program seems to be the perfect idea, so I told them at Progress Place that I’d like to join. I talked with my family about it and they all think it’s a great way to start. I’ll be able to ease into the work world, have support as I do it, gain job experience for my resume and bolster my confidence.

In one sense I’m a little disappointed in myself. I had planned to jump straight into a part-time job like anyone else looking for work might do. Essentially, I’d be as capable as any person without a mental disorder. I think that would have given me a great sense of pride. However, the transitional program seems perfect for what it is. An opportunity to get my feet wet before I dive.

A step in the right direction

Great news! I was called in by my TEP liaison today and she told me with a smile that I got the job I’d applied for! I start next week. I still don’t have all of the details, but it’ll be maintenance work at the Globe & Mail. It’s 15 hours a week. It’s not about the job itself so much as it is about gaining confidence and working on my employability skills. I’ll also have a nice reference and some job experience at the end of it. I’m worried, but it’s the kind of worry that comes with any new and important step. Still, I’m excited because this is definitely something I can do. The perfect middle ground. And who knows – this might be the place to get a few writing contacts.

Well, it turns out the road hasn’t been as simple as getting from point A to point B, but I guess life and vocational growth don’t happen that simply. I’m optimistic about the future. I’m happy to know that I’ve made another step in the right direction. Seems Progress Place has lived up to its name.