June 10, 2028 – I was fresh out of college and had landed my first “real” job – a management trainee position at a major insurance company.  It was my very first day, and the representative from the “Personnel” department (the 1980s name for Human Resources) presented me with a large envelope containing my “Benefits Package.”  (Again, this was the 1980s and a company website allowing “newbies” to access this information online was still a few years off).  Anyway, as my head was spinning from all of the details about group insurance, medical reimbursement accounts (affectionately referred to as “Mer Money” which, for some odd reason always caused me to picture the mythical god “Neptune” in my head), vacation time, sick leave, personal time, etc., etc., etc., the date, June 10, 2028 happened to catch my eye.  This represented the date on which I could retire with full benefits.  To my 22-year-old self, this date sounded impossibly far into the future (George Jetson, Blade Runner, Star Trek, flying cars future) and yet, in my youthful enthusiasm, I fully expected to be still employed with this impressive firm on that distant date, having been promoted to at least the level of my boss’s boss, and enjoying my cake and punch retirement reception on a bright summer day, well into the 21^st century.

I loved my job (at first).  I was learning so much and developing amiable working relationships with the sales agents and my 35 to 50-something co-workers.  I had a female supervisor (which was still somewhat uncommon in those days) who was committed to mentoring more young women in order to enable a rather traditional company to achieve the diversity goals to which it aspired.  Plus, with the U. S. business sector still basking in the glow of optimism, fueled by “Reaganomics”, the company still provided a number of old school employee perks like a rose and a team Coke party (Coca-Cola – not the other kind; it was the 80s but…no) on your birthday, monthly drawings for prizes like beach towels and coupons for a roasted turkey or ham, a Christmas dinner-dance with a live band, a Sunday afternoon bowling league, and all sorts of events connected with sales promotions in which we decorated our departments and dressed in hilarious costumes.  (One of these events was even dubbed Pride Day, which in retrospect seems completely ironic given the number of closeted homosexuals in our ranks!)

It was a pleasant, family-like atmosphere and we were all quite generously paid.  I remember feeling somewhat embarrassed by the fact that my annual income that very first year was nearly as much as my father made as a 25-year veteran of our city Fire Department, even though Dad assured me that he was completely delighted by my accomplishment as he proudly crowed, “The whole reason your mom and I sent all of you ‘girls’ (the affectionate nickname by which our parents referred to my sisters and me) to college was so that you could do better than we did, and now you have!”

Over the next nine years, my life continued to unfold pretty much as I had always expected.  I got married, transferred to a new branch office opening out of state, bought a house, had a baby, transferred to Corporate HQ when my husband got promoted, got divorced, and finally reached my goal of advancing into a management position in 1994.  About one year in to my new assignment, however, there seemed to be a subtle shift in the company climate and culture.

First, the company was struggling to recover from the devastating losses caused by Hurricane Andrew which had destroyed much of southern Florida and left some $27 billion (yes, billion with a “b”) in damage.  The company was also feverishly working to upgrade its computer systems in advance of the largely unknown impacts anticipated at the rapidly approaching turn-of-the-century, widely known as “Y2K.” In the past, hiring managers had always boasted to job candidates that the company had never undergone layoffs in their entire history.  Therefore, it was a major shock when our manager pulled me and another supervisor aside just as we were about to interview for a new file clerk (again, our highly traditional company had been slow to convert to digital record keeping) and told us that we were no longer allowed to say that the company had never, in its history, had an involuntary employee lay-off.  From that point on, I knew that I should probably begin planning my “escape” although I had no idea how.  My life had suddenly turned into something that sounded like a parody of one of the Harry Potter books, “Corporate America and the Prisoner of the Golden Handcuffs.”

According to an article in The Simple Dollar (Hamm, 2017), golden handcuffs are defined as financial incentives, often in the form of high salaries relative to similar jobs in the market and other generous financial benefits, designed to reduce employee turnover.  While this type of work situation is an enviable one when times are good and the work is pleasant (or even simply tolerable), once the corporate culture or the work itself changes and job satisfaction begins to go south, many employees begin channeling the lyrics popularized by 80s punk rock group The Clash with their classic question, “Should I stay or should I go?” (Clash, 1982).

Initially, I made some half-hearted attempts at job hunting, posting resumes with online job boards like Monster and Indeed, once even getting as far as interviewing with a local competitor but being scared off by the $15,000 annual pay decrease that such a move would have entailed.  Another time I interviewed with a corporate headhunter but backed out from the fear that after spending two decades with a company that had never challenged me to the limits of my ability, I might not be able to actually make the grade in the world outside of the paternalistic corporate “bubble” in which I had spent my entire career.

While I repeatedly told myself that I couldn’t afford to give up the cushy job (that I was beginning to loathe more and more venomously with each passing year), in actuality, it was a fear of change and an unwillingness to move beyond my comfort zone that was holding me back. I read Escape from Cubicle Nation and silently researched all sorts of alternative money-making schemes such as franchises and house-flipping.  At one point I thought that there was simply no hope and I mentally set my “retirement countdown clock”, despite the fact that at age thirty-seven there were still at least twenty-five to twenty-eight years ahead of me.  (Twenty-five to twenty-eight – even now it sounds like a prison sentence!).

Finally, in an effort to avoid complete insanity, I began volunteering as an adult education tutor.  First, I worked with a gentleman who had a diploma from an inner-city Detroit high school, but whose math skills were so limited that his barbershop was in serious danger of failing because he couldn’t keep accurate books or confidently file his business taxes.  Later, I began working with immigrants who had a desire to learn English as a Second Language (ESL).  For the first time in years I felt excited about what I was doing and could see the positive change that I could bring to the lives of other people, something I had never felt in the corporate world.  Despite having a stated mission of “helping people to manage the risks of everyday life and realize their dreams” the real focus in my company always seemed to be maximizing profits and ensuring healthy bonuses for upper management and the sales force.  The hypocrisy of the entire situation was becoming increasingly unbearable.

Although I now knew what I was destined to do, the matter of how to do it remained problematic.  My teen-aged son was experiencing serious mental health issues and I told myself that I needed the generous health-insurance plan (especially in what was still the “pre-Obamacare” era.)  Ultimately, it took the combined trauma of serving as a juror in a first-degree murder trial in which we reluctantly convicted a stressed-out mother of killing her baby by throwing his body against a wall and the toll that the constant stress of my job was taking on my own physical and mental health to propel me into action.

My initial steps were small and fairly tentative.  I enrolled in an online master’s degree program in which I could obtain the credentials to teach ESL in eighteen months and I continued volunteering and began tutoring local school children in English and math as a “side-hustle” in order to gain a wider variety of hands-on experience.  When the paid teacher that I was assisting in my volunteer efforts learned of my rapidly-approaching graduation from the master’s degree program, she recommended me for a part-time teaching position which enabled me to teach at night while still doing my “day job.”  With the extra-income from these two endeavors and health insurance obtained through my husband’s workplace, I was finally ready to shed the golden handcuffs after twenty-six years in a gilded corporate cage.  The impact upon my health and state of mind was nothing short of amazing.  For the first time in years I felt as if I could be my “real self” which led to greater confidence that landed me a teaching position at a community college and later allowed me to start my own tutoring business, teaching international student online.

This drastic career change was not without its challenges, financial and otherwise, but truly my only regret is that I didn’t initiate it sooner and while I sometimes suspect that many of my former colleagues from the corporate world are left with the impression that I harbor a great deal of animosity toward my former workplace, that really isn’t the case.  The golden handcuffs and the employer that applied them both served an irreplaceable purpose in my life.  The knowledge and business acumen I gained during those years have helped me to become both a successful teacher and independent business person.  The money that I earned during those years enabled me to invest in a home that will assure my financial security in retirement.  It also allowed me to afford some fabulous vacations that are a wonderful store of happy memories with my son, who, sadly, lost his battle with mental illness nearly five years ago. For these benefits I will be forever grateful, however, they still do not negate the fact that any sort of handcuffs, golden or not, serve no other purpose than to constrain and restrict us from achieving whatever it is that we are ultimately meant to be.

References

Clash, T. (1982). Should I Stay or Should I Go? [Recorded by T. Clash]. London, England.

Hamm, T. (2017, 12 31). The ‘Golden Handcuffs’. Retrieved from The Simple Dollar: https://www.thesimpledollar.com/the-golden-handcuffs/