So, remember when I accepted a new position at a lower pay grade in my institution of employment? Remember how my Human Resources representative advised that moving into a job the likes of which I moved in to (at a decreased pay grade) would help me move into The Dream Job with the company? (If not, you can read up on it here: Why I decided to take a pay cut.)
I work in a post-secondary institution. My post-secondary institution. My alma mater. This was the place where my adult life started, where I was able to spread my wings, make mistakes and begin to explore my (fierce) independence. This was the place where I met my (now) husband. This was the place where I earned my (first*) undergraduate degree (in English literature). This is a place that I love dearly.
This institution is also something that I promote in my personal life. I will chatter excitedly about the programs, the atmosphere, the environment, the 10:1 ratio of instructors to students, the fact that the university is only twenty-five years old (this year!), its relationship with the environment (we are Canada’s Green University™), its relationship with the First Nations people upon whose land it is built, its always evolving course catalogue and degree programs, and a smattering of other equally as impressive and important things. In my Dream Job, I would be doing that for a living. In my Dream Job, I would be paid to market the university as a Student Recruitment Officer, attending high schools, education fairs and other universities and colleges to tell people exactly why they ought to consider my school.
(Image found @ think and speak peace)
The job I left the other job for had me next door to the right department, literally and figuratively. The door I wedged my foot into was the door to the Office of the Registrar, where I learned the ins and outs of official transcripts, course registration (and dropping and withdrawing), confirmation of enrollment and graduation documents and just a whack of other really neat things. Not promotion, but fascinating and never-a-dull-moment-ing all the same. But then, as seems to happen in my life, a shiny new Something Special distracted me, and I dove for it.
Long story short, I left my previous (management) position for a lower paying entry-level position in order to pursue the on-the-job education required to get into my dream position marketing one of my favourite and most-important-to-me places. Then, another job opened up (a one-year term) and promised a step up in pay and a set of new responsibilities.
So, in the last three months, I’ve had as many job titles. But! This job, folks. This job that I started last week. It was described, by the gal doing the same work for our graduate studies program, as student recruitment without the travel. I’m building email campaigns (the thing I love to do for the indie bookshop I moonlight in). People, I am getting paid to do a thing that I love to do – be excited about, promote and passionately represent an institution that I love.
2015 and I? Unless it’s playing a terrible and cruel joke, we’re getting along fabulously. It’s really lovely. It’s also really relieving after the last almost-two-years preceding it. But here’s the thing, it’s because I’m putting in the work. I’m putting this shit out into The Universe, but I’m putting my money where my mouth is (LITERALLY. I took a pay cut for this. …and then I didn’t). It’s a pretty cool feeling.
*I was recently accepted for re-entry as a student and have registered for a commerce course (in marketing) for the September 2015 semester. I may pursue another degree. I may not. Either way, education is fun (and reasonably priced when you work in the institution)!