I see you.You, the thousands of Extension professionals whose jobs have been terminated with the elimination of SNAP-Ed. You, who have used your skill and compassion to help people live better lives, healthier lives, happier lives. You, who put others first. You, who have encouraged and supported and uplifted those in your communities who just needed someone to care enough to offer a hand up — up out of poverty, up out of despair, up out of loneliness. You, who offer hope to the hopeless I see you. We all see you. The elimination of the SNAP-Ed program doesn’t make sense.$538 million. That was the nation’s investment in helping people live healthier lives — what Illinois Extension branded Eat.Move.Save. Each dollar spent in Illinois returned between $5.36 and $9.54. I’m sure your state saw similar ROI. From a business sense, it was a good investment. One of my friends put it like this: “I’ve been working my dream job for the last 12 years with the most amazing people who care deeply about their communities and those who live in them. Sadly, sometimes good things have to come to an end, even though the reasoning doesn’t make a lick of sense.” It doesn’t make a “lick of sense,” but we are Extension. We offer hope to the hopeless and a hand up to those in need. So, I’m asking you to take care of each other.Here’s what I want you to consider in this time of uncertainty and sadness, because this isn’t just about those who were terminated. This impacts every colleague who worked with them, every organization who partnered with them, and every client who learned from them. Take time to grieve together — as an office, as a team, as a community. Allow open, honest discussion. Hear them out. Listen without judgment. Be patient with unexpected intense emotions. A colleague asked my opinion in responding to a harshly written email they received from a staff member the day they were told of their termination. “Pause,” I said. Don’t email; call. Help empower their voice. Let them speak their emotions. Allow them to feel all the emotions of grief they’re experiencing: sadness, anger, fear, blame. Acknowledge the feeling they’re experiencing. Remind them they are not alone. Remind them they are more than their job. They are a whole human who has value beyond this job. Help them see options for what comes next. Help them find new employment. Help them update their resume. Offer letters of reference. Keep an eye on job postings that fit their skillset. And, if a job opens up in your office that they’re qualified for, give them a heads up and a fair chance.
Celebrate each person’s career. Don’t just wish them well, then take their keys to the door. Throw them a party; buy them a gift; write the impact story of their career and provide it to local media. Make sure the celebration is a send-off made to their wishes. Check in on them after they leave. I mean it! We have an awful habit of ghosting people once they quit or retire from Extension. (Think about it; you know I’m right.) Put dates for checking in on your calendar. Send birthday cards.
In the 42 years since I first walked into an Extension office and sat behind a desk with my nameplate on it, I’ve seen many times that didn’t make a lick of sense. What helped me through those senseless moments were the people who knew me best, my colleagues who spent hours each day with me, colleagues who became friends. That’s how we’ll get through this.Remember, it’s the people who are Extension, not the programs. And, we take care of people. Judy Bingman, owner of Storywriter Solutions
creator of Extension Insider and Like My Life Read more blogs on the website.
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