*** UPDATE ***
Mrs RPS and I have just read through all your comments and she decided to do an update rather than respond to each. Hope that this is ok.
Writing the post has been a big step for me but finding out through cyberspace that there are so many people all in the same boat makes me feel less isolated. The world around me seems to be complacently pottering along, an approach which considering I too work in the public sector, seems naive to say the least. However, people seem only to get angry about these issues when they are touched by them directly, as I am.
While I am used to such complacency airing my inner thoughts has proved to be greatly beneficial to me because of all your supportive comments and hearing that many of you face exactly the same experience.
Heaven knows so many of us are being forced to trudge this distressing path, we can at least travel it together.
Chin up everyone,
Here’s this morning’s post again in full.
I am very proud to introduce a post from Mrs RPS. I asked her for her take on what is happening to us. It has given me plenty of food for thought. I am sure it will do the same for you.
When Mr RPS first asked me to commit my feelings on the forthcoming redundancy to his blog, I initially resisted. It seemed subconsciously to be giving credence to an aggressive act against our family which I am still loathe to accept to some degree. For considering it is my husband, not me, who has worked for an August Body in public service I have taken this surprisingly personally.
You may conclude, Dear Reader, that I am taking the ostrich approach to what will soon happen to us (Please note the ‘us’, not ‘him’), and that I should face this issue head on with shoulders braced. My response would be, see how you feel when it happens to you. You have to experience it first hand to understand the depth of its trauma.
Mr RPS and I have been happily married for 23 years and for 22 of those years he has been an employee of the August Body. I have been a proud witness of his sure and steady rise through its rock steady structure, kept our tiny children quiet when he was studying for professional qualifications, encouraged him to go for promotion and held the fort countless times at home when he was called away for days at a time for conferences or training.
Even more, I have willingly agreed to move our family lock, stock and barrel not once but twice to another part of the country in order that he could take up some new role within the AB. That means that twice I have waved ‘Goodbye’ to dear friends and a whole support structure and had to start again, in a new area, finding a new home, good schools, a new job for me and hopefully new friends, all to the benefit of the AB.
Indeed, on occasions I have come to consider the AB as the notorious third person in our marriage, drawing my beloved husband away from his family to further its enterprise, sometimes at our expense. The missed children’s birthdays, the Parents’ Evenings attended late or by myself due to work commitments. And yet, the blows have always been softened by my innate belief in the importance of his work and the causes it championed.
You may have detected a hint of bitterness creeping in. Bitterness now exudes from my pores at times. For I feel that this upcoming redundancy is our redundancy, not just my husband’s. We are all being cast adrift, not just him. Our children are much older now, one at university, our second on the way there, hopefully and our third embarking on GCSEs. The AB has been part and parcel of our family life for their entire existence, at times irritating and invasive, but also representing security and purpose. Now that is all to be wiped away.
Wiped out at the whim of a government and ministers, whose motivation I deeply suspect. For a doctrine I believe is essentially flawed. According to our esteemed Prime Minister, all public sector redundancies will be soaked up by opportunities in the private sector. The overall figure keeps being altered, but we’re still talking hundreds of thousands, so I’m cynical to say the least. Whatever the number, it still leaves our family in an unenviable position with a very uncertain future.
So perhaps in the circumstances you’ll allow me a little bitterness.