Three months ago at this time, I was sure I knew my immediate future. I'd retire from New York State with 30 years of service and 75% of my salary. I felt I'd reached the pinnacle of my career. New York was broke — I'm a government employee — and I'd already had one promised raise canceled, with threats for a second promised raise in April to be canceled too. There was no reason to stay on in hopes of improving my final average salary. (Most government pensions are determined by averaging your three highest annual salaries.)
Consequently, in December, I made the public announcement that I was going to retire at the end of February. I filled out my paperwork and was literally within twenty-four hours of filing it when my boss asked me to come to his office. To make a long story short (and isn't that the essence of flash?) I was offered a promotion to stay for two or three more years. I was understandably conflicted, but in the end I agreed. The fact is that my pension will be my only reliable support in retirement — who knows where Social Security will end up?— and because I have no family nearby, I need to be as self-reliant as possible.
I had second thoughts, of course. So many of you sent encouraging notes about my initial decision to abandon bureaucracy for art, and changing my mind to extend my indenture by two years seemed like selling out. And my desire to create had not abated. Work still seemed more an inconvenience than something worthwhile. Then came the second temptation.
Some of you may know that in addition to being an IT bureaucrat within New York State government, I'm also an advocate for making IT in general and web sites in particular accessible to people with disabilities. Earlier this year, quite by chance, I was approached by two different organizations within government to assist in improving the support for IT accessibility for people with disabilities in both law and policy. For me, this was the Holy Grail. I've been working in this area since 1998, and for once, all the stars were all in alignment to make some headway for people who truly need it.
So between the offer of a promotion and the opportunity to make a real and lasting change for people with disabilities, I have resigned myself to staying in state government, at least for now. Those of you who follow politics will know that in New York, the political wheels are threatening to come off as the wagon careens down a steep hill, and conditions "on the ground" have become even worse in the last three months.
Meanwhile, despite being time-starved, I will continue to work at my silversmithing, and wtake part in as many craft shows as possible. I'll use some of my salary to salt away materials and upgrade my tools, and I'll continue to write.
And despite the many changes lately in flashquake, I'll continue to publish it, with the considerable help of our editors and art director. I may recruit more help, but I can't see giving it up after the nearly ten years we have put into it.
As my friend Sean McKlusky categorized it in his farewell message, flashquake is a labor of love for all involved. And my commitment is renewed every time someone writes to us about the exceptional quality of the work we publish. It's renewed every time someone writes to get contact information for one of our contributors because they want to publish the contributor's work, or use their work in teaching other aspiring writers how it's done.
Those are the things that make the late nights and missed weekends worthwhile...and if I can continue to fund flashquake by staying in the yoke a little while longer, so be it. Maybe the ends justify the means.