Apply with Caution - Adventures in Job seeking

I commenced writing this blog  when I lost my last job.  My dismissal came about because I received a police caution and I declared this caution at work.  Although the crime was not connected, or as far as I was concerned, bore any relation to the work I was doing, I felt the decision was harsh.  My conduct was deemed inappropriate despite the fact that there had been no issues with my conduct prior to my declaration.

I shared with my then employers, my whole back story and the context in which I gained the caution believing/hoping that they would understand.

They didn’t.

Since then, I’ve been searching furiously for work.  I can get plenty of volunteer roles.  People seem to want to make full use of my skills, talents and experience for free.  However, when it comes to paid work, no-one wants to take a gamble on me.

Most application forms ask for a declaration of criminal convictions.  Some also ask for warnings/cautions etc as well.  I’m not totally convinced whether prospective employers actually appreciate the difference between a conviction and a caution either.  If I get to an interview and  there’s possibility that my caution will be revealed in post-interview checks, I volunteer the information to the interview panel.

Usually on the forms, there’s a disclaimer stating that your conviction/caution will not be a factor in my potential recruitment.  When I’ve declared it to an interviewer, I’ve always been thanked for my honesty and told that my application will be judged on its merits and my caution will not influence the overcome.

However, I tend to receive the following feedback:

“We liked you as a person, you gave a strong interview BUT because of your caution we don’t want to take a chance.”

When I reveal my caution to prospective employers, I also tell them the context in which I received it and this has led me to question myself whether they really believe my testimony.

There I am, a big burly chap sitting in front of them, telling them that I was a victim of Domestic Violence and my caution was result of my befuddled attempts to try and minimise the conflict at home.    Do they really believe that men can be victims and affected by Domestic Abuse?  I fear they don't.

The reality is that I know that , without any blemish on my record, I would walk into  the vacancies I’m applying for without any problem.

Prior to receiving the caution, I was offered every job that I’d been called to be interviewed for.  Post caution, nothing.

All I can do is stay positive, keep knocking on doors and believe that very soon someone will take a chance on employing me.

From Safety Zone to the Unknown

It seems strange to refer to coming out of a Domestic Violence situation as leaving a safety zone, but my whole life was such.  Everything in my life had been determined or influenced by the church authorities.  From the outset of this blog I have chosen to write anonymously but you may read and feel you recognise me.  If so, I ask that you continue to read in a sensitive manner for I am writing about the lives of real people. 

In ‘My Background’, I wrote of how some aspects of my life had been influenced by the church.  This seems an appropriate place to expand on that.   My parents were also church ministers and the church leadership would relocate them to different churches without any prior consultation.

I was born into this nomadic lifestyle where it felt natural to move house every few years. 

I attended nine schools and was often asked whether I thought my education suffered as a result.   Without stability my schooling was bound to suffer.   I attended five primary schools located all over the United Kingdom and, looking through old reports, my grasp of key subjects was a little sporadic.  Some subjects were covered twice or more, and some topics were missed completely.  I was always the new boy in class.  Having a keen interest in sport did help me to integrate into my new classes but I was always aware that at some point in the future, I would be moving away.

In five years of secondary education, I attended four schools.  Perhaps the most important occurrence was moving to another town during my third year (or Year Nine).  This is the year when a student decides what subjects they wish to study at qualification level.  By the time I changed school, all options had been decided by existing pupils. It meant that rather than study the subjects I excelled in or had a strong interest in, I ended up taking the subjects that no one else really wanted but I helped the school meet the quota of students to justify that particular course. 

The long-term impact of this was that the results I achieved fell short of my true ability.  At the age of sixteen I should have been considering further education and the possibility of university.  However, after nine school changes already,  even more changes were the last thing I  needed and so I didn’t fulfil my education potential.  I was even working for the church on days that I was supposed to studying for examinations.

My first job upon leaving school was working for the church, but it was through a church contact that I was able to commence working in some of the top Finance Houses.  This opened my eyes a little to the sheltered world in which I had been raised.  The church still bore a strong influence on me during this period of my life.  It was during these years that I left the security of my parents’ home.  I always used to joke that I never left home, home left me!  My parents were moved on by the church and I had no desire to go with them.  If I did, it would mean leaving friends and a job behind.

My parents arranged for me to rent a flat so that I could stay where I was.  Guess who my landlords were?   Yes, that’s right; the Church.

With such a background it seems inevitable that I would become a church minister.  The church had strong guidelines as to courtship and marriage.   I have already written about how the church determined who one should marry. 

Becoming a Church Minister provided a Safety Zone.  I had a rent-free house to live in with my only responsibility being for the utility bills. The Church took care of Council Tax and property repair payments. I drove a lease company car provided by the church.  I was responsible for my personal mileage but any travelling on church business was reimbursed by the church.  I know of many a church minister who claimed expenses for every car journey they undertook – strange how the provided car was never utilized for personal usage!  All aspects of car maintenance and insurance were arranged by the church and the lease company.

When I offered my resignation as a church minister, I had attended nine schools, lived in twenty-seven houses and led nine different churches.  Life outside of the safety zone of the church was unknown.  Nevertheless it was to the Unknown that I was effectively being throw into.

Church

Church had been a huge part of my life.  I could not recall a time in my life when I had no association with the church.  I had been an adult member since the age of fourteen. The majority of my friends were connected to the church.  Senior churchmen had decided that I was no longer worthy of membership.  I knew of people that had been imprisoned and behaved immorally and still stayed members of the church.    All my life I had listened too sermons on the themes of compassion and forgiveness but these were virtues not to be found in many so-called Christians.

The only people who were told officially about my membership cancelation were the elders of the last church I ran.  Otherwise, it was left to me whether I divulged that information or not to others.

This meant that I could not attend services at any church in the same diocese because members of the congregation knew me and would want to know my story.  If I went and attended elsewhere, I would be invited to participate in the service.  This would then mean that I would have to explain that I no longer belonged to the church. 

I was soon informed of certain rumours that were circulating over my resignation.  Many within the diocese couldn’t understand why a minister of my calibre would quit without explanation.  Some were saying that the church I led had treated me abysmally and this was why I had left.  Readers of this blog will know that such gossip could not be further than the truth.  However, I hardly wanted the reasons I left to be known by all and sundry.   The last church I led was full of good, caring people (which sadly is a rarity in the church) and I didn’t want their good name tarnished over silly rumour. 

I felt the only way to stop this chitchat was to attend services although I wasn’t really emotionally ready to go back so soon.  I deliberately entered the church just as the service commenced finding a seat as close to the door as possible.  I could feel the tears streaming down my face as I found a place to sit.  That initial visit was very surreal as the last time I was in that church I had been conducting the Easter Sunday service from the pulpit.  It was like an out of body experience.  I was there physically but absence in every other sense.  I stayed in the church for most of the service but intentionally left as the benediction was being sung.   I couldn’t face speaking to anyone; I knew that it would be too much for me. 

I wanted to go to church but attending any church in my own denomination was too painful.  I was hesitating about trying another church because a visitor was easily recognised due the small sized congregations.  The last thing I needed was an over exuberant welcome and questions about my background.  I knew that such interest would be good natured and with the purpose of trying to attract a new church member by being friendly.    The last thing I wanted to do was to explain who I was because once I revealed I’d been a church minister, I could imagine that I’d be encouraged to volunteer for all sorts of activities.   I’d heard of a church that had over thousand people attend its services and this sound the sort of place where I could go to worship, but also hide in a crowd at the same time.

I attended periodically for a while but gradually the novelty wore off.  I still felt deeply hurt by the actions of some so-called Christians and the little faith that remained weakened.  Members of the last church I was the minister at, have kept in touch and have been a good source of encouragement.  However in the storms of life you soon learn who your true friends are.  At one time I thought that I had lots of friends within the church, but know I realise that they were nothing more than associates.  Shortly after my resignation I was standing immediately behind one minister in a supermarket queue and they completely ignored me.  Another minister emailed me and arranged to meet me for a chat.  I agreed and we made arrangements. “I understand things can be tough when you leave the church and I want to be a good friend to you,” he told me.  That was the last time he spoke to me and a few months later I went to a church service  he was leading, he walked straight past me blanking me.  So much for friendliness within the church.

Resignation

I came out of the consultation with senior churchmen feeling that the only option available to me was resignation.  The interview techniques used implied to me that this was the best course of action.  They were very subtle though.  When I first mentioned resignation, the immediate response was “you’ll lose your car if you resign.” This struck me as a very peculiar answer.  True, as part of the salary package I‘d lose the leased company vehicle, but it would also mean that I would have to find somewhere else to live.  I thought that when speculating on resigning, the last thing that was on my mind was the perk of a company car!  I had far more important things to consider.  

Most of the country was caught up in Royal wedding celebrations but partying was the last thing on my mind.  I was in a rather morose state.  I drafted out a resignation letter. I had sought the advice of some people who thought I was being rather hasty.  I went for a long lengthy walk in the countryside listening to music through my ipod.  Some people might have decided that they would front the situation out but I felt totally ashamed of the behaviour I had been confronted with. After I finished walking, I posted my letter of resignation to the church administrators.

I decided to accept responsibility for my actions and face the consequences.  It still pains me today that what I did was a mistaken way of trying to save my marriage but ended up costing me everything.  While I have admitted my shortcomings, Sandra has never acknowledged her role in my destruction or accepted any accountability for her behaviour even when challenged.  Despite being the perpetrator of long term Domestic Violence, Sandra still remains a church minister.

After resigning, the church arranged for the leased car to be collected.  They paid for a transporter to collect it off my driveway and deliver it a store area in London.  Within a many of weeks, they then reassigned the leased car I had driven, to another church minister.  By this time, I had also left the manse.  Bizarrely, the leased car was then transported back from London as the church minster they’d reassigned the car to, was now residing in the manse that I had occupied.  They could not have been that concerned about the way they used church funds.  I have been made to feel that I was the world’s biggest criminal in my misappropriation of church funds.  I had also paid back every penny (and more) that I had taken without consent.  None of my previous exemplary conduct was taken into account.  I had no help with relocation.  I was even notified that my membership of the church had been cancelled.  I had been a life-long member.  I had made great sacrifices all my life for the church and now a church preaching forgiveness and restoration was casting me out without any compassion.