For the past nine and an half years, I have called myself a community organizer. To be more specific, I was a union organizer, a Jewish community professional, and a food justice community organizer.
In two weeks time, I will hold my first for-profit job since 2000, and that was undoubtedly one of the weirdest jobs I've ever had--dubious distinction amongst the doozies I've had over the years.
I'm of two minds about entering a workplace where my job is to make more money for the company, and in turn, myself. There is a certain appeal to being able to pay my regular bills, fix things that need fixing on my car and home, and have enough left over to take a vacation to a warm beach, visit friends in states more than a day's drive from Nashville, and give to my favorite charities in a more meaningful way.
On the flip side, my identity has been tied inextricably to being a community organizer. It was my profession, as well as my philosophy. As I declare my amateur rabble-rouser status, I look forward to weaving my community organizing skills into my new professional role.
Wish me luck!
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