Workplace opportunities, a.k.a. when the black holes align

Today’s topic is admittedly unconventional, maybe even controversial, so thanks for humoring me. It’s about workplace opportunities, and lack thereof. It may arguably even be about silent forms of workplace discrimination.

Why do people start their own small businesses? Is it always because of big dreams? Wanting to be their own boss, or to never again have to answer to “The Man?”

Is it because they have been empowered to go out on their own? Or is it sometimes because that’s their only option?

I, for one, launched my marketing and branding start-up because I gave birth to a son who requires total care. Once this became my reality, a 40-plus-hour-a-week job away from home just suddenly became unfeasible. What was I going to do to get back to earning a living?

The boy who inspired my start-up, and several successful fundraisers.

When I tried to return to corporate marketing after our Miles received his multiple diagnoses, I did so knowing that I was likely in trouble. Nonetheless, I first explored the possibility of flex-schedule marcom job work, from the office or home. Spending weeks diligently looking on Craigslist and elsewhere, it soon became clear: there were none of these listings.

I then did what any mortgage-payment-fearing parent and dutiful former employee would do. I started answering ads for full-time marcom jobs, despite having no idea how I would ever make that work, but willing to try.

The most ironic result of this job search was a day of promising interviews at a high-powered Portsmouth employer’s office. I had networked my way in, and was meeting the marketing team and even the president. It seemed to be going well, and then I was scooted in with the recruiter afterward. Fabulous.

She closed the door and engaged me casually and warmly. It quickly came to light that we were living in somewhat parallel universes, because she too had a son with special needs and specifically epilepsy. She had first returned to the workplace at only twelve hours a week, she confided, and had pushed back on everyone who asked for more. She was confident–no, proud to be calling the shots, knowing that her situation did not fit the mold. She was unapologetic.

I could not believe my ears. Finally I had found a decision-maker who would understand and support the truth I had been covering up about my being a caregiver.

For the first time in my job search, I opened up and told her a bit about my situation. We even discovered that our boys both saw the same wonderful sub-specialist at MassGeneral for seizure treatment.

She asked me what I wanted in a job schedule. It was still a very loaded question, and I was still the ever-cautious and strategic interviewee. But I felt safe enough to model her approach and actually state my wishes. I would like to work twenty hours a week, with the goal of working up to full-time eventually, I told her. And if that was not acceptable, I would commit to making full-time work, was my heartfelt postscript.

She nodded empathetically, and we finished chatting. I was still processing her bravery and her enviable ability to name what she truly needed in ALL parts of her life, including her profession. It was a very heady thing to think that I was allowed to do that too, and that I had potentially found a successful firm who saw that my competence was not measured by whether I could sit in an adjacent office from morning until night.

“We’ll call you to follow up,” the marketing director promised with a smile as she loaded me into the elevator and thanked me for the visit.

The next day, I went out and bought some new professional clothing for my perfect new flexible job.

Except that the promised follow-up call never came. Not even to say, “No thank you.”

But this story is not meant to be a pity party. On the contrary, this alignment of black holes (which are, after all, former stars) was exactly what I needed to have the answer to my dilemma after months of indecision. It was just the thing to make me feel my entrepreneurial power.

Sometimes the dead stars align and inspire you to think differently

Less than a month later, I hung my shingle as POP Communications, to do the work that I’d done for years in Greater Boston. I joined a strong local networking group, bought a laptop that could come with me anywhere (including the hospital), and amped up my smartphone minutes for client calls.

Yes, the clients came. And no, I generally do not mention Miles to them. I wish to be judged on the quality and merit of my work.

But how many people are in this boat, I often wonder. It’s a vast minority, but no doubt involves many more people than you might think. There are countless forms of disabilities that need to be accommodated in the workplace, as we know. Likewise, there are also countless caregivers who struggle and yes, flat-out lie in order to find employment while committing to making life better for a loved one in need. Can we make it easier for them to carry their heavy loads, to find and keep a job that might be unconventional in its scheduling and/or venue?

As I launch my first fullscale website for POP (www.gottamakeitPOP.com), writing its content has inspired me to also finally craft a mission statement. It goes like this:

POP Communications Mission Statement
To contribute to the visibility, health, and growth of friendly, promising businesses from a workplace that empowers every businessperson with the resources to successfully practice their craft.

While I do not have staff at this time, this vision will extend to employees, if I ever add them.

My start-up’s story has a happy ending, because I feel so lucky to be doing work that I love as a solopreneur. It’s very likely that I never would have mustered the courage to launch a start-up without my hardship. I work crazy hours from home, some nights, some weekends. I also maintain “normal” weekday office hours and make myself available to meet with clients. I retain every bit of professionalism that I used in corporate marketing in Boston. I may work in pajamas much of the time, but my clients still see only the blazers.

But now I don’t have to pretend or fear the consequences of doing what I have to do for my son with an employer. This comes in really handy, for example, after finding out today that sweet Miles’ seizures, controlled the last four years, have suddenly returned.

I know what I have to do. I keep my client deadlines, and I handle the medical stuff. The POP work is actually great respite.

I am a productive, successful marketing professional. I am a hardworking caregiver and advocate. These are my two jobs, and they peacefully co-exist.

To me, it would be wonderful if other employers took an interest in reconsidering their ideas of “the workplace,” and how and where smart ideas from committed employees can take shape.

What do you think? Thanks for sharing examples of other caregivers in the workforce and progressive employers who support them, as well as your opinions and comments here.