Tomorrow I start work for a start-up marketing company. Or more accurately, I start to officially work for a commonly-owned and managed enterprise.
As you can probably guess: it's a worker's cooperative. A group of artists decided to band together to establish a business that they themselves will run and manage. I'm not an artist, of course, nor can I ever pretend to be one. I'm just coming in based on the strength of a hack writing job I did for them. Apparently, they have a need for writers, so any hack writer, my person included, might do.
It's a prospect that fills me with excitement and trepidation.
I believe that this cooperative has a lot of potential for growth and that I could contribute to such growth, given my background and knowledge of the cooperative business. But I also seriously doubt my writing prowess and thus, I fear, I'll come short of their expectations. As I said, I do believe I'm only a hack writer, at best; not an artist like them. The best I could come up with is perhaps a decent phrase or two.
There's a lot of uncertainty involved. They still have to get their systems in place. A few equipments are still being acquired. Heck, even my job description is a bit vague (Imagine: having been asked by my "boss" to help in drafting my own job description? It's a moral dilemma. On one hand, I could take advantage of it to have less things to do or be responsible of, but on the other, my conscience wouldn't let me shortchange them. In the end, I simply declined.) Even the pay isn't that good. It's even lower than my previous salary as a factory worker.
I could, however, render flexible working time. Or tele-commute. As long as I meet the targets then I'm good. This is what attracted me to the job. Of course, another plus factor is the potential for growth. The company is expanding rapidly and is poised on proving the viability of the worker's cooperative as a viable and sustainable enterprise. As a cooperative advocate, that prospect excites me. Alas, we can be free from the yoke of corporate slavery. There are no real "bosses" at the company, at least, not in the traditional sense. And we pay for our own salary and bonuses...based on output and equity considerations. Plus, the office is near U.P., thus, technically, still within my comfort zone.
Honestly, though, should my application for a certain corporation be approved, I would probably leave this new job in a heartbeat. I've been so used in rendering regular hours of work, in having concrete rules, and definite hierarchies that I find my new company's work ethics to be quite disconcerting.
I feel like a domesticated rat whose cage has finally been opened. Everyone yells at me to flee. That freedom is to be desired.
And yet all I know, in all my life is the certainty of comfort in my own little cage.
Monday, August 31, 2009
On Carlo Caparas Being a National Artist
Carlo Caparas is not a visual artist. And certainly not a National Artist material.
Gerry Alanguilan has said it best in this online petition
When the highest award for artists in the Philippines can be dispensed through political patronage rather than merit, then it certainly says something about how we, as a nation, regard arts and culture in our country. GMA has committed an outrage that must be redressed. I do hope the Supreme Court rules against the insertion of undeserving National Artists by Malacañang.
Gerry Alanguilan has said it best in this online petition
When the highest award for artists in the Philippines can be dispensed through political patronage rather than merit, then it certainly says something about how we, as a nation, regard arts and culture in our country. GMA has committed an outrage that must be redressed. I do hope the Supreme Court rules against the insertion of undeserving National Artists by Malacañang.
On Looking For A Job and Selling Banana Que
With my separation pay from my previous job being almost depleted, I had no choice but to seriously look for a job these past few weeks.
This time with more desperation than ever.
Yup, desperate enough to consider selling banana-que...or eating my words.
A college professor once admonished us to take up masteral studies in Political Science because, otherwise, all we were good for, as BA undergraduates of the said course is "selling banana-que". The good professor, I believe, does not really denigrate those who sell banana-que---at least not consciously. But those who do sell them, she would say, are undergrad students, too. "Go ahead, ask them." We all laughed, of course, thinking how much a kidder the professor can be.
Well, after graduation, I sort of realize how true her words can be. Let me put it this way:
What's one sure way to turn up negative results in a job search engine? PUT IN THE WORDS "POLITICAL SCIENCE" THEN PRESS "ENTER".
If my said professor had low regard for banana-que vendors in UP, then she had a LOWER regard for call center agents. I didn't teach you political analysis just so you could all be "telephone operators", she would say.
"That wouldn't happen to me," I would mutter. After all, haven't I chosen factory work and labor service above and beyond the lure of easy money in a call center? Yes, I did. I even told a friend, half-jokingly that I might as well sell banana-que before I consider working for a call center.
I've always imagined myself working for an Non-Government Organization after graduation. I wanted to continue serving other people. I wanted to nurture my social advocacies while providing for my necessities. And so I submitted a few applications to certain NGOs just after graduation.
And then I waited. And waited. And waited. A friend from the labor sector told me to wait some more because there's definitely going to be a job opening in the labor advocacy center soon. So I waited some more.
Unfortunately, my funds are fast running out. I didn't get much separation pay to begin with, in the first place. And I had to provide for my needs in the meantime.
And so, suddenly, the prospect of getting a call center job didn't seem all that bad. After all, some of my friends are working as call center agents and they're doing mighty fine, aren't they? And didn't they say, getting a call center job would be a cinch?
In short, I ended up eating my banana-que laden words: I applied for a call center job.
I'm putting this in my blog to remind myself to always be humble. To not let the prejudices of some other people affect my future decisions. And to not let myself forget that whatever I achieve in life... I'll always be factory worker.
Which is about as decent a job can get---as decent as the banana-que seller. Which, in the end, is way better than a politician or congressman, right? (Oops, here I go again.)
This time with more desperation than ever.
Yup, desperate enough to consider selling banana-que...or eating my words.
A college professor once admonished us to take up masteral studies in Political Science because, otherwise, all we were good for, as BA undergraduates of the said course is "selling banana-que". The good professor, I believe, does not really denigrate those who sell banana-que---at least not consciously. But those who do sell them, she would say, are undergrad students, too. "Go ahead, ask them." We all laughed, of course, thinking how much a kidder the professor can be.
Well, after graduation, I sort of realize how true her words can be. Let me put it this way:
What's one sure way to turn up negative results in a job search engine? PUT IN THE WORDS "POLITICAL SCIENCE" THEN PRESS "ENTER".
If my said professor had low regard for banana-que vendors in UP, then she had a LOWER regard for call center agents. I didn't teach you political analysis just so you could all be "telephone operators", she would say.
"That wouldn't happen to me," I would mutter. After all, haven't I chosen factory work and labor service above and beyond the lure of easy money in a call center? Yes, I did. I even told a friend, half-jokingly that I might as well sell banana-que before I consider working for a call center.
I've always imagined myself working for an Non-Government Organization after graduation. I wanted to continue serving other people. I wanted to nurture my social advocacies while providing for my necessities. And so I submitted a few applications to certain NGOs just after graduation.
And then I waited. And waited. And waited. A friend from the labor sector told me to wait some more because there's definitely going to be a job opening in the labor advocacy center soon. So I waited some more.
Unfortunately, my funds are fast running out. I didn't get much separation pay to begin with, in the first place. And I had to provide for my needs in the meantime.
And so, suddenly, the prospect of getting a call center job didn't seem all that bad. After all, some of my friends are working as call center agents and they're doing mighty fine, aren't they? And didn't they say, getting a call center job would be a cinch?
In short, I ended up eating my banana-que laden words: I applied for a call center job.
I'm putting this in my blog to remind myself to always be humble. To not let the prejudices of some other people affect my future decisions. And to not let myself forget that whatever I achieve in life... I'll always be factory worker.
Which is about as decent a job can get---as decent as the banana-que seller. Which, in the end, is way better than a politician or congressman, right? (Oops, here I go again.)
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