After more than a decade as the director of the former Astria Regional Medical Center鈥檚 rehabilitation unit, Teresa Shervey got an early taste of what many workers across the country now know all too well.
At the beginning of 2019, she abruptly lost her job when the failing hospital closed the rehab unit.
Shervey had been a physical therapist at the hospital for 10 years before stepping into the rehab director role, and leaving Regional was a cold shock.
It was painful professionally and personally, she said, because the insulated work environments of hospitals can make them feel like small, independent cities. They鈥檙e safe, secure micro-communities where coworkers often seem more like neighbors or family.
鈥淲hen the rehab unit closed, I had to reinvent myself,鈥� Shervey said.
Looking back now, though, she sees it as a blessing in disguise.
As it happened, she and her husband, Mark, had opened up a side business, Mak Daddy Coffee Roasters, just seven days before Regional let her go. While Mark was set to oversee day-to-day operations at the coffee shop, Teresa had planned to help out whenever she could when she wasn鈥檛 working at her job.
Instead, while Mark worked at Mak Daddy, she spent much of the first two months of 2019 at home, grieving the loss of the career she鈥檇 loved for 21 years. It was a cruel blow, emotionally and financially.
鈥淭hat was a huge adjustment,鈥� she said. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 a wage I鈥檒l never make again.鈥�
Perhaps worst of all, she missed doing what had always driven her: helping people.
That February brought record snowfall to the 黑料福利社, which only added to Shervey鈥檚 dark mood. She questioned her self-worth, wondered how she鈥檇 ever get back on her feet again.
Deeply religious, Shervey leaned on her faith, family and friends to dig out.
Her husband, she said, provided some gentle motivation that turned out to be a turning point.
鈥淗e鈥檇 call me and say 鈥楥ome down to the shop, it鈥檚 really busy today and I could use some help.鈥� 鈥�
Forcing herself to get out of the house, putting one foot in front of the other, and interacting with people again, began to thaw her gloom.
鈥淚 started finding that connection again,鈥� Shervey said. 鈥淎nd that hope.鈥�
As her joy returned, so did her energy and confidence.
She reignited her job search, coming close to landing a position at People for People. When the Yakima nonprofit organization contacted her to let her know they鈥檇 chosen someone else, they offered a stunning consolation prize: They were so impressed with Shervey that they were creating a new position that could take advantage of her skills.
She was thrilled 鈥� and she was back.
For a little more than a year now, her title has been social services contracts coordinator.
A large part of her job is connecting businesses and job seekers with the help they need 鈥� grants, internships, training and economic relief tied to the COVID-19 pandemic.
In short, she鈥檚 helping people again.
鈥淚t just feels good every morning going to work,鈥� Shervey said with a smile.
Now she offers practical, real-world advice to her clients. Losing a job, she can say from experience, can be a chance to make a new 鈥� and maybe better 鈥� start.
She tells people not to be discouraged, not to blame or doubt themselves.
鈥淵ou just can鈥檛 take a financial decision personally,鈥� Shervey said.
Today, she still helps out at Mak Daddy when she can. She soaks in the warm atmosphere, savors the give-and-take with the regulars and the new faces she sees in the shop. And she feels the joy of knowing she鈥檚 right where she belongs at People for People.
鈥淚鈥檓 giving back,鈥� she said. 鈥淚 was a dislocated worker.鈥�