Retired Man Walking: Too Young to Retire, Too Old to Take Shit

A while back I ran into a friend and fellow professional employed by the State of California, and he offered me his perspective on State employment as a tail-end Baby Boomer like myself -- someone who can't retire because he lacks the requisite age or years of service, but, unlike myself, is tired of taking shit from superiors who don't know what to do with you.

Although my friend gave his permission for me to use his name in this blog entry, I decline to do so because what he does is so specialized that it would not be hard for anyone to identify him as one of the few African American men, if not the only African-American man, in California state civil service who does what he does. For purposes of this blog entry, I will refer to him as he now refers to himself:  Retired Man Walking.

Retired Man Walking, or RMW, has an interesting philosophy he applies to working for the State as a professional who isn't old enough to retire but has been around long enough to know the score.  Like many state workers of his age, race, and qualifications, he encounters roadblocks to advancement because the State of California doesn't reward intelligence, achievement, innovation or efficiency among its rank and file employees; oh no, the only thing the State of California rewards is seniority.  You could die waiting for the few spots above you in the hierarchy to open up when someone retires or, well, dies, no matter how stellar you might be.

Like many other African-American professionals in state civil service, he encounters "intelligence racism":  The cognitive dissonance experienced by whites and sometimes people of other races when they simply cannot believe the intelligent words and ideas coming from your African-American mouth are, well, coming from your African-American mouth.  Because they cannot reconcile your race with your intelligence, which is oftentimes superior to theirs, they endeavor to disprove your intelligence or undermine you in some other way as undeserving of what little stature you have.

At the other end of the spectrum, RMW, like many other African-American professionals in state civil service, also experiences being a financially pimped out professional by the State enjoying the benefit of his college and graduate education without paying you enough to cover the burden of the student loans necessary to pay for that college and graduate education.  Too Short ain't got nothin' on the State of California when it comes to pimpin' professionals.

However, RMW has adopted a philosophy I found so intriguing that I felt compelled to share it with you.  He's adopted a policy of not allowing himself to be stressed out by the intelligence racism, lack of upward mobility and the like, and here's why:

He wants to live long after he retires.

RMW noted how many people retire only to die shortly after, oftentimes from diseases that are stress-related, like heart disease, stroke, cancer and the like.  As he puts it, "How you live the 25 years before you retire will determine whether and how you live the 25 years after you retire."  RMW is determined to not let workplace stress cause him to develop diseases that will cheat him out of a long and healthy retirement.

As a result, he has declared himself to be "Retired Man Walking."  He simply does not care anymore.  As he put it, "I have two speeds at work -- slow and stop."  He's not trying to prove anything, impress anyone, or race to get things done.  He takes full advantage of alternate work schedules, vacation days, and breaks during the day.  It's just not worth it to him to get stressed out in the last years before retirement.  He has "retired in place."

As for upward mobility and the lack thereof, he likens them to the ephemeral traffic jam on I-80 west going from Sacramento toward San Francisco.  "Notice how the traffic always backs up around Berkeley and Emeryville?  Did you ever notice how there's no traffic over there by the Berkeley Marina, and if you get off near the marina and go around, you can get back on 80 and beat the traffic?  Upward mobility in the State is like that -- sometimes you have to get off and go around to move up."

Very wise, indeed.

Here's to a long and healthy retirement, RMW.

Poverty of Imagination Is A Sin Against Yourself

Sometimes in life, you have to imagine yourself to where you want to be.  You have to create where you want to be in your life in your mind first, see what no one else can see, and speak, create, and work what only you can imagine into existence.  You especially have to do this when you don't see around you what you aspire to be, see, or do.

The inability to do this is what I would call "poverty of imagination."  I see it all around me.

I even accused a dear friend of mine of suffering from this.  She was taken aback, offended.  I told her that, in imagining all the possible ways a legal conflict could be settled to the benefit of her client, she failed to imagine other options for no other reason than that they had never been done before.

"That, my friend," I declared, "is poverty of imagination."

I then told her the story of my dad and uncle that epitomized  poverty of imagination, as told to me by one of my younger uncles.

When my dad and my uncle, his next oldest brother in age, were young children, they picked cotton alongside my widowed grandmother in the rural South during the 1930's.  My uncle said to my dad, "When we grow up, we're going to be rich, so rich that our mama is going to pick cotton in a SILK dress, not burlap!"  My dad agreed.

Neither of them could imagine the possibility of being so rich that their mother, my grandmother, would not have to pick cotton at all.

Poverty of imagination.  And poverty of imagination is worse than poverty of one's real life situation because the failure to imagine yourself out of your present circumstances will keep you in your present circumstances, no matter what they are.  Even if those circumstances are not dire, if they are not what you want, and what you want doesn't exist, you have to imagine your way out.  Your imagination is the only way out because everything starts with an idea and an intention.

I've seen this with family members who immediately disqualify themselves from a position they're interviewing for because they can't imagine that the hiring powers that be would hire them.  I see this in folks who can't imagine doing anything other than the work they're doing that they hate.  I see it when I sit in meetings and hear coworkers say, "We've just never done it that way before."

Poverty. Of. Imagination.

I believe poverty of imagination is a sin against one's self.  Why?  Who gave you that imagination? GOD!  HE put that ideas in YOU.  HE gives you the ability to imagine something different than your circumstances.  When you don't even try to imagine something different or when you reject something different simply because you've never seen it done before, it's like saying to God, "Nah, I'm good.  What You, Father God, have in store for me?  Nah, I'll pass."

REALLY?  Because what HE has for you is for YOU.  And HE isn't always going to make it appear in the physical realm.  HE puts it in your mind.  It's there for you to imagine, if and only if you are open to it.  If, in the words of The Rock, you are smelling what the Creator is cooking.

Are you?

I'm as guilty as the next person of poverty of imagination.  Right now, there are so many changes happening at my current workplace that I have been asked by coworkers whether I will be staying to see those changes through, whether I have any other plans that would cause me to jump ship, so to speak.  They tell me that the skills and exposure I have gained in my current situation make me extremely marketable as an attorney.  They say these things with what looks like a mixture of curiosity and fear in their eyes.

I told my coworkers that, no, I have no plans to leave until I finish the projects I started.

And then I broke free from my poverty of imagination and spoke my next phase of life into existence by saying this:

"But this is my last legal job."


Black Woman Blogging's 2020 Not-Fucking-Around Guide to Voting Securely and Her California Voter Guide

It's been a minute since I've put fingers to keyboard to blog here.  A lot has happened, too much to discuss at this point because v...