Onetime Aerospace Supervisor Finds New Mission in Nonprofit World

About 10 years ago, I decided to leave the stress of the corporate world behind. My departure was bittersweet: I had entered the aerospace industry after a divorce and had worked my way up the ladder from entry-level work to a position as material supervisor for Gulfstream Aerospace, in Long Beach, Calif. I was proud of my achievements.

But I wanted to try my hand at something I had always wanted to do — work with children. At age 47, with the support of my new husband, Larry, I started working at a child-care center a few blocks from my home. After supervising 20 employees and handling a million-dollar inventory, I thought that taking care of infants would be a cinch. Boy, was I wrong.

I loved the kids, but the work was harder than dealing with an employee who had to be put on a performance-improvement plan. My exit was decided for me after just three months, when the center filed for bankruptcy and left all the kids and employees stranded.

What would I do now that my “dream job” did not work out?

I learned that my optometrist, whom I had known for many years, was looking for a receptionist. I got the job, was promoted to office manager, and stayed with him for the next three years, using my corporate skills to revamp and streamline his office. I had it running like a clock. But when my mother needed a place to rehabilitate after back surgery, I quit and took care of her in my home for a month.

I was back to square one: no job and no idea about what I wanted to do. One day my son, Shane, stopped by with his new Saint Bernard puppy, Kramer, and I was taken by the dog’s loving spirit and tender heart. This dog became more mine than his as I took him to obedience training, vet visits, and walks. I heard that Saint Bernards were perfect for pet therapy, so I started on the road of getting Kramer and me certified. Then my husband and I decided we should get our own Saint Bernard, so we made the plunge and we were blessed with our wonderful Winston in May 2002.

Winston and I became certified in pet therapy and jumped into the volunteer world with two and four feet. I had volunteered before at Head Start and at the local hospital’s neonatal wing. But this time I had a buddy.

Every week we volunteered at Long Beach Memorial Medical Center and Miller Children’s Hospital, visiting the children’s wing as well as adults who were in rehabilitation after surgery. We let the children brush Winston and feed him treats. He had the uncanny sense to recognize when someone was especially needy and would give him or her a good slobbery kiss. He also helped the children with physical therapy by letting them pull on him and use their small muscles to brush him. Everyone used to feel better the minute Winston walked into the room, drawing comfort from his sweet face and demeanor.

We also visited convalescent homes, group homes, kindergarten classes, and preschool classes for autistic children. We volunteered at special events like Special Olympics, hospital holiday parties, and parades. We had a mission to help as many people as we could with Winston’s magic ways. After I read in a local paper about New Hope Kid’s Camp, a camp for children who had lost a loved one, I called the director to offer Winston’s services. She was thrilled, and we started a two-year partnership. Winston became the camp mascot and helped many children through their grieving process with his healing nature.

Sadly, Winston’s time was cut short and he died in February of kidney disease, when he was just 6.

I was beside myself with grief. Not only was my best friend gone, but so was the mission that we were on together. Now what was I going to do?

After the New Hope director heard about the loss of Winston, she came to console me. When she mentioned that an administrative position at the group that operated the camp, the New Hope Grief Support Community, would be opening soon, the wheels in my brain started turning: Maybe I could work through my grief and help others at the same time.

About one month after my precious boy crossed the rainbow bridge, I started to work for New Hope, which sponsors activities to help grieving adults, teenagers, and children, and is led by the exuberant Susan Beeney. At age 57, I have started a new chapter of my life in the nonprofit world.

My work as a part-time office administrator is giving me a purpose in life and helping me to get through my grief. I still miss being out there and helping to touch people through Winston, but this organization is touching many more people and I am just helping in a different way.

I haven’t attended a camp since Winston’s death, but I will be registering campers in September this year. I also help to organize fund-raising events, write grant applications, and research potential grant makers.

My life now seems worlds apart from my aerospace career. Stress is minimal and my work life is not nearly so schedule-driven. We have deadlines for fund raising or grant proposals, but they are manageable. The atmosphere is lighter and more like working at home — and people show their appreciation for what we do. Corporations may reward you with money, but nonprofit work rewards you in your heart.

Luckily, my husband has a good job and has been completely supportive of my volunteer and nonprofit work, despite the cut in income.

So where do I go from here? I’m just getting by on a week-by-week basis, still grieving and trying to look toward the future with new eyes. I started working on a children’s book featuring Winston a couple of years ago, but haven’t found the strength to get back to it yet.

I also dream of raising money to start the Winston Foundation, which would help pet therapists reach more needy people. And I’ve always wanted to get my master’s degree in child psychology, so who knows? Everything is possible.

As I reflect back on the years after I left the corporate world, I can offer these pieces of advice:

• Try something you have always said you wanted to try. If it doesn’t work out, fine. At least you tried and found out it didn’t work for you.
• Nonprofit groups can benefit from mature employees. Sometimes charities attract younger, entry-level employees who will accept lower pay, but they invariably want to move on to higher-paying jobs. Mature employees are likelier to stick around because they are not as motivated by money. And they can provide a plethora of life skills.
• Don’t ever rule out going back to school. I was 46 years old when I received my bachelor’s degree and loved every minute of it.
• Don’t ever say, “I’m too old to do that.” We can do anything we set our minds and hearts to — and probably better than a younger person.

Nikki Conkings is executive administrator at New Hope Grief Support Community, in Long Beach, Calif. She can be reached at nikkic@newhopegrief.org.