From Court to Cabal: How to Expand Your World Without Leaving Home

On the way to court this week, scrunched in the backseat of a car between a victim of Mr. Tirade and a Court Advocate, a wealth of information encircled me about my neighbors. I heard tidbits about people I’d encountered on the street yet had no deeper connection to. And I was reminded of how similar our lives are despite appearances.

“If our inward griefs were seen written on our brow, how many would be pitied who are now envied!”
—Pietro Metastasio, poet

There was chatter about the fellow (another dog person) who made it through his divorce, sold the condo at a loss, bought a new smaller condo and 10 days later lost his job. Yes, people are still losing their jobs.

There was chatter about the unemployed woman who had to sell her condo and is now a renter, visiting her beloved husband every day in the nursing facility he required after an early and aggressive onset of some neurological disorder.

The chatter felt good…warm. It wasn’t chatter to fill time and space. It was people caring about one another and sharing ideas about helping one another. It was real community.

I tell you this because if, like me, you seldom experience this kind of goodness—if you stay too often at home because you can’t afford to be with your old circle of friends anymore, or you’re embarrassed by your joblessness, or you simply don’t have spirit enough to leave your four walls—there’s another option for you:

FREE Webinars.

Yup. You can attend a workshop or presentation by sitting at your computer, which is exactly what I did after my day in court.

Now you’re probably already familiar with TED, which is a wonderful way to keep up with the big thinkers of the world. But people like Penelope Trunk (see the link to her blog and company in the right margin of Lull) are giving their time and sharing their expertise in real-time broadcasts.

I attended one of Trunk’s Webinars on Tuesday night. (I saw most of it anyway. Since Tuesday afternoon, my Internet access has been more off than on. I signed up for another Webinar yesterday and lost my connection 20 minutes into the session. Couldn’t post anything here either. Aggrrravating.) While listening and watching, you can see who is in the audience with you (their names are listed), you can ask a question and get it answered on the spot, and you can learn something while feeling like you’re part of something. It’s not a static, solo experience. It’s interactive and invigorating.

Trunk uses a site called Vokle for her Webinars. Admission costs you only a one-time registration and then you have access to whatever other Webinars Vokle is broadcasting. The recent lineup included speaking Italian, trends in the green movement, meditation, photography, and living the “untemplated” life.

Professional organizations sometimes present free Webinars as well. If you belong to one, take advantage of the opportunity. You’ll feel part of a new community. And those four walls you’ve been hugging won’t feel so oppressive.

A-Courting We Will Go: Learning the Importance of Networks in Surprising Places

esterday, as my husband pointed out late last night, was 3.2.10. For me, the word blast-off naturally follows this numeric sequence, which sounded like the perfect beginning for an uplifting post on Lull. Yet nothing in my life right now has taken off or is ready for take-off—except, perhaps, the wisdom teeth that have been pressuring me this week for a new view (which I can’t wait to give them, if I have to do it myself with a doorknob and piece of string).

But the more I reflected on yesterday’s events, the more I realized how radical they were for me. 3.2.10, indeed.

Yesterday I went to court with one community and joined a different one in the evening to hear a Webinar. If you know me, then you know how unusual it is for me to become part of a group. And these two groups were worlds apart—generations apart, even—but both offered a cohesiveness that is especially foreign to many of us caught in the economy’s net of joblessness. It felt good.

And it felt bad.

Let me explain: I was in court again as a witness to a verbal assault on my neighbor, but also because the one network I’ve been a fringe member of for the past 11 years has come under attack by someone within the network.

My neighborhood isn’t tony. Realtors call it “up-and-coming,” but dollar stores are our shopping options and we need look no further than the nearest street corner for our drug supplies. Waves of immigrants, their nationality dependent on the current tribal turmoil, get their American start here. The diversity is wondrous but can be isolating. Which is why being a “dog person” is an icebreaker and a bridge to neighbors. Without the pooch, I’m not sure I could see all the beauty of the ’hood; without the pooch, I probably wouldn’t walk down every street and alley, wouldn’t stroll along the lakefront at night, wouldn’t fall into conversations with other dog people about politics, art, life, recommendations for doctors, groomers, restaurants. Dog people are the web that holds my neighborhood together and makes me feel safe here.

Until he showed up.

He’s a dog person, too, with a sweet, adorable, golden mutt who’s well behaved. But he isn’t. He has an alarming habit of verbally attacking people and wishing harm upon them: “I hope you get AIDS,” “I hope you get raped,” “I’m going to kill you,” “I’m going to kill your dog.” This last threat, of course, spurs dog folks to action.

Some dog people, like my neighbor, have been on the receiving end of these tirades multiple times; some only once. I’ve merely witnessed one episode and heard about many others. But it’s enough to rend the fabric of the community.

Now, in addition to the usual suspects, we’re scanning the horizon for the one dog person who might hurt us. Since there is no apparent trigger for his outbursts, there’s no preventive action we can take other than to avoid him. My neighbor has been granted an order of protection from him but is continuing to press charges against him. And several of the dog people are standing behind her—including me (one upside to unemployment is the freedom to go to court as often as needed).

Yet being part of a community that’s in the right isn’t necessarily enough to feel good about it. It was painfully obvious in court yesterday that Mr. Tirade has no one in his corner. He should be part of our community but he’s not; I doubt he has any community. And I believe his tirades are the result of a neurological or psychological condition that is not being treated. I don’t want to see him punished. I want to see him become the person other dog people can embrace. Or I want a guarantee that he’s more bark than bite.

It’s odd to feel alienation while at the same time feeling a sense of belonging and empowerment. As soon as we belong to a group, we have drawn a line between us and others. We have defined the other. And I think no matter how much I take pleasure in the networks I belong to, no matter how grateful I am for them, I will always feel a little uncomfortable for having exposed the other.


[Artful drop cap by illustrator Jessica Hische. Not all these dogs are in my 'hood; none is Mr. Tirade’s dog.]

E-Hugs for the Unemployed

Yesterday I mentioned Unemployment Haiku Weekly as a source for poetry. But it's also a great source for more Web sites that focus on displaced workers. Here are a few others I've run across:

Please Feed The Animals

Though this site focuses on ad industry professionals, you'll find relevant and entertaining material here provided by creative and engaging folks. Be sure to check out Erik Proulx's trailer to his documentary on the unemployed, Lemonade.

Unemploymentality

This is billed as "the definitive unemployment blog." It has a number of contributing writers reporting on unemployment-related news, giving job-hunting and unemployment-enduring advice, and creating a community of displaced workers (especially in California). You'll also find lots of videos on this site. 

Stuff Unemployed People Like

This tongue-in-cheek site could make you chuckle—or it could tick you off. 

The Temporarily Retired Party

This site promotes networking events [gleeful pity parties?] for freelance creatives in Minneapolis. But it could be franchised.

The Survivors Club

You'll find all kinds of challenges people have faced on this site, plus communities divided by topic.

Whatever you're looking for—inspiration, commiseration, insight, community—you may bump into on the Web. But whatever you do, just don't let go.

It's Not a Crime to Cry "Uncle!"

Being unemployed is tragic enough, but here's a newsflash: Life goes on. Even the bumpy and horrific bits of it.

That is to say that unemployment may feel like we've hit bottom, but mark my words: Life will keep swinging at us. We are not immune to the accidents and hardships it has to offer.

The difference is that we may have lost the community from the workplace that kept our chins up, lost the anchor of structure that a job provides. So coping with these additional punches is that much more stressful, more painful, more disappointing, more irritating, more More MORE intense.

My "Aha!" moment may very well be a "Duh" moment for you. I realize that all those articles about unemployment mention the importance of networking and support groups in relation to being unemployed, but I hadn't considered their importance in relation to Life's routine trials.

We have to persist in talking to people, telling them what's going on in our worlds, allowing them to advise and console, allowing ourselves to admit we're lodged between the proverbial rock and hard place. Let people in. Don't feel embarrassed about it or feel guilty over it or feel like we owe them something in return.

Let people in. It helps them grow and helps us heal.