This morning I was thinking about obsolescence-the process of becoming obsolete, outdated and no longer used, no longer produced. This is a recurring theme in my life especially having celebrated my 58th birthday and steadily marching towards obsolescence.
While vacationing in Laguna Beach last week, I received a call from HR notifying me of the formal reduction of force for our entire Recreation Therapy department on both campuses including my current job as Recreational Therapy Supervisor. Not only would I not be coming home to a job but there was no longer a Recreation Therapy department at the residential treatment facility I have worked in for the last 11 years. Though recreational therapy was an integral part of the program since the 70's, at this present moment, the program has been cut. This was part of administration's strategy for the proposed consolidation of campuses. Happy Birthday!
The news was not only heart breaking and disorienting but left me and my department feeling devalued, unimportant, expendable, and obsolete. Our services were no longer needed, no longer wanted, no longer valued. Though I pushed my reactions inside to focus on my vacation and family, my body fought back by getting sick, reminding me that I would need to process these issues eventually.
I had similar thoughts and feelings about obsolescence when I learned BYU eliminated their Therapeutic Recreation degree. This past month, I hired one of their last graduating students from the program. Her first day ended up being her last. Regardless, my degree no longer exists at BYU-it is obsolete. And yet, this was the college major I sought personal revelation concerning the field which I should enter. My patriarchal blessing stated, " It will be a field of great interest and excitement to you. The knowledge that you gain will be of great importance to you and to your family throughout your life and it will be of importance to your brothers and sisters in the gospel. You will be able to influence many people and enable them to have greater joy and happiness because of the training and skills you develop."
My choice to major in this obscure major "felt right" being a conglomeration of everything I was interested in. It was the everything degree. However as a generalist, I didn't feel too marketable when it came down to specific skills. Already in '87 I was disillusioned with my degree after a poor internship experience and outside influence. Many times when people would ask me about my college degree, they would scratch their heads and say they never heard of it or had never heard of a Recreation Therapist. RT is used to fighting for it's existence and struggling with its' identity. But, it wasn't part of my identify as a full-time homemaker as my BYU degree sat in my scrapbook box for the next 20 years. I would refer to it as "my useless degree."
When financially strapped, I returned to my BYU advisor who originally recruited me to the degree to ask advice, he said it would be wiser if I ignored my degree and pursued employment in the business sector as a secretary or executive assistant. Awesome...Great...thanks for confirming the obsolescence. As I passed BYU over the years, I would feel a wave of resentment towards the whole institution feeling duped and just plain stupid that I hadn't chosen a different field. So it was helpful and even healing when I decided to dust off the degree and put it to work. I repeated my internship, I took a couple of classes, I passed the certification test and fulfilled licensure requirements. I completed additional certifications to increase my odds at being hired at that same facility. My degree became useful, not obsolete.
My "everything" degree, became my "everything" job. I tried to do everything in my power to meet needs and expectations of students, staff, administrators and RT interns and employees. I was all over the place. It was exhausting but worth it. With an ever changing business landscape and shifting populations from pediatrics to adolescents, it felt like a new job every couple of years with an endless parade of wonderful people coming and going. It was my work family. It was continual service using recreation as tool to bring about change, even if it was as small as helping someone feel a little bit better for a moment. It was spreading sunshine and love. It was exciting work. It was meaningful work. It was my career. I felt useful as a professional. I felt valued. I was heavily utilized. It helped me forge a unique identity apart from my previous roles in the home and at church. Though entering into the workforce as a older woman and surrounded by young professionals, I never felt obsolete... until now.
I've also felt a little obsolete in my role as a mother of 5 with children ranging from 25-32. Though this is to be expected as an empty nester, it was amplified by this past year's worth of family therapy sessions that left me feeling de-valued and powerless as a past and present mother. I have changed and continue to change. That in part, is a remedy for obsolescence. It's keeping up with the latest developments in any discipline. It is being open to new learning and applying it in ever changing circumstances.
If obsolescence is being no longer used, no longer productive, then my personal antidote is being useful and productive throughout my life. My definition of what this looks like may change through the years, but the commitment is the same. I can do this. I will do this. Help is wanted. I can help. I am valued. I am wanted by someone, somewhere. I will continue to influence people and enable them to have greater joy and happiness because of the training and skills I possess now and through further development. Obsolescence be damned!
