Laid off

I was laid off from my job this morning.



There were no warning signs, no rumblings of imminent layoffs in my department or concerns about my performance. I received a great performance review a few months ago, along with verbal notice that I was receiving a raise. I will never know why I was chosen, but I take solace in the fact that it was completely out of my control. I'm feeling okay.

It was fitting that the day this happened, one of the biggest storms I've ever seen swept through the East Bay. I arrived at work this morning, ran from the parking lot to the building in the rain, and beeped myself in with my security badge. I set up my work station, grabbed some breakfast, and started my day by pulling analytic reports on my Sports sections. I was in the midst of manually culling some data from a spreadsheet when my boss dropped by.

"Hey, I need to have a talk with you. Can we meet in the cafeteria?" he asked. I cheerfully agreed and grabbed a pen and paper to jot notes.

When we sat down, I knew something was wrong. He was holding a blank notepad (normally he has notes scribbled down to go over with me) and his hands were fidgeting nervously. I cocked my head curiously as he drew a deep breath and then spilled two sentences in rapid succession:

"There's no way to small talk around this, Flo. Your position has been eliminated."

The air rushed out of my lungs. He explained that there simply wasn't enough money left in the budget to operate with the amount of producers we currently have on staff. He reassured me that my quality of work had nothing to do with the decision, and then softly explained that he had to take me to the Human Resources department to go through my final paperwork.

We walked down the halls I'd "grown up" in on our way to the HR department. I realized with a sudden sense of panic that this was the last time I'd walk those halls as an employee, and I struggled to retain my composure as I remembered that this would always be my first and only job in journalism.

When we reached HR, I sat down with a specialist who went through my severance package and benefits. I was too hurt and confused to really listen or comprehend, but I appreciated her empathy as she carefully went through the process of claiming unemployment and figuring out my severance package. Overall, the process was done with all the dignity and respect I could have hoped for in a situation as difficult as this was.

My boss walked me out of the building after I packed up my work station. He offered to keep me appraised of the contracting jobs they'll have available in my absence, and I half-listened as I realized that I was not at all interested in working for the company any more. I thanked him one last time, then ran to my car in the pouring rain.



When I started working for the Contra Costa Times three years ago, I was a 21-year-old college senior at San Francisco State University. I was scared as hell, incredibly naive, and not at all prepared for what lay ahead. Three years later, I can honestly say I'm astounded by all the lessons I've learned in the newsrooms at the Times and the Oakland Tribune. I've met lifelong friends and inspiring mentors in all departments, and I've learned career skills that I couldn't have found anywhere else. I'm a programmer, a copy editor, a graphic designer and a multimedia producer. I owe all those skills to my time as a journalist.

I'm going to be okay. I'm earning my master's degree, I have plenty marketable skills and abilities, and I can find a job to get by until I graduate. This might just be a blessing in disguise, and I don't feel depressed or scared. I will be just fine :)

Thank you so much to those of you reading who played a role in my career as I grew up in the newsrooms. I may be moving on to a different career field, but my heart will always be with journalism.