I have referenced being called untrustworthy a few times now without really explaining.
My job was to label pictures on a CD-everything was a mess; documents, photos, random stuff, almost entirely labelled with numbers.
I came across a photo of a passport. I told the leader whom the passport belonged to. Apparently I was supposed to tell the executive director (is it even legal to not go to the passport holder when you know her personally?) The executive director seemed to blame me just for finding it, though she wouldn’t admit it. She did admit that she no longer trusted me with Haven computers both because I may not tell her about confidential material and because I may go looking for confidential material. Though she acknowledged that I had only done my job.
There was a lot of drama. There is always drama at Haven. A homeless junkie who will do anything for approval is a giftbasket for those looking to transfer blame. And in a system where power is completely unchecked and all questionable behaviour is given a mark of a personal development tool (even for employees) this was far too easy to accomplish.
That was what I was called untrustworthy for. I would have had to skip the job to not discover the passport. I worked for hours at a time at that job. Skipping it would have been a saner thing to do, given that I wasn’t being paid, was given no timeline, often not even given a place to work–wandered around the property with a laptop until they put me in the Reps Centre, which is pretty much like a dark, musty closet–and was still blamed for not being good enough. But I still desperately wanted approval… And was called ungrateful, entitled, narcissistic, borderline, on a daily basis. I didn’t have to spend hours staring at the same picture a thousand times over, labeling each and transferring. That was how desperate I was. Did anyone express gratitude to me? Not really.
I was called entitled for expecting that a work/study might involve work or study.
They honestly told me that I was ungrateful for the opportunity to work for food and be insulted. Perhaps that is work, I don’t call it work because I was separated from all other employees, wasn’t paid, had no hours, not even suggested hours or timeline for finishing tasks, and because it was all done under the guise of helping me.
During this time, there was only one person on property who I was allowed to talk to about my struggles. I was warned not to talk to anyone else, meaning that I felt even more like an outcast. The kids were there, it was a big time of year, so I was to be hidden as much as possible.
Now tell me, if this is a caring act, I was lucky to have it, why was I not allowed to discuss having been given the opportunity?