In Summer 2017 after a few weeks back at work full time I felt myself relaxing into the old routine. I was trying hard not to get too anxious about things beyond my control and it appeared to be working. The role had eased into a fairly settled phase where I was splitting my time three ways:
- I had my regular work managing BAE Systems apprentices and graduates.
- I was working with other companies on creating new level 6 and level 7 project management apprenticeships to be formally recognised by the government.
- I was working alone, usually at home, developing the processes necessary to introduce formal lower level Project Control apprenticeships into the business.
Whilst each of these aspects came with their own issues and stresses, I felt that I was coping very well. It helped enormously that the most stressful bits of the work that I had disliked before (e.g. moving apprentices between departments twice per year) had been removed from my role and these tasks were now being performed by other people. The IT system that I had struggled with had received some modifications and the task had been eased through a change of process. I can’t say exactly what had happened since I was kept out of the way. If I asked any questions, Sharon would tell me to shut up and carry on doing whatever else I had to do.
The task of managing apprentices and graduates is cyclical, and I had previously taken pains to ensure that any processes which were repeated had clear procedures written down so that anyone could perform them. Therefore, carrying out this role during the summer months went smoothly, as we prepared for the new intake of 20 apprentices and half a dozen graduates in early September.
I was based at Warton site (at a desk close to my boss’s office) although I found myself working at Samlesbury more and more. Samlesbury now housed the Academy for Skills and Knowledge and many of my regular contacts were already based there. I had located a desk and began to spend more time there myself, but when I proposed to Gordon, my boss, that Sharon and I ought to move there permanently, I was told very firmly, “No, I need you to be where the students are based”. Given that about 40% of the students were based at Samlesbury and not that many more at Warton, I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t allowed to make Samlesbury my permanent location. The remainder of the students were scattered around the UK on other BAE Systems sites or RAF bases.
Whilst Gordon was very clear that I had to retain my permanent desk at Warton, I inferred from his statement that he expected me to spend more time with the students wherever they were based. One of my tasks was managing the travel and subsistence budgets for both my own team and the apprentices so I knew that there was sufficient funding available to fund the flights, car hire and accommodation to visit the students regularly. Until then, in trying to save the company money, I’d been reluctant to travel too much, spending more time than I would have liked talking online to students and their managers, but with my new interpretation of Gordon’s statement I began to spend more time travelling around the UK.
In the second of my trio of duties, I was playing a key part as a member of the working groups who were developing new apprenticeships although I had never felt totally at ease in the role. The imposter syndrome was clearly alive and well and proudly sitting in my psyche, but I was careful to keep it hidden from view. The working groups comprised representatives from several major UK companies and universities/colleges and Sellafield took the lead. In taking on so many apprentices each year, it was obvious that the views and considerations of large companies such as BAE Systems and Rolls Royce needed to be included in the discussions and therefore required representation at the meetings, but I never felt properly qualified to be there. I regularly had to tell myself that I belonged and that I was fully entitled to a seat at the table but in my quieter moments, I found it very difficult.
When I initially began to attend these meetings, I considered that I was way out of my depth but whilst chatting to other members of the group in the coffee breaks, I gradually became aware that no-one else knew much more on the subject. I suppose it wasn’t called the Trailblazer Group for nothing – we were genuinely creating new apprenticeships. The fact that BAE Systems had been running a Level 6 degree scheme since 2007 which was identical in all but name helped enormously. I had been closely involved with the Project Control Foundation Scheme from its inception and therefore I had previously encountered many of the issues when running a degree-level scheme, and so was able to offer practical solutions. Lady luck had shone down on me once more. You can have a look at what’s involved in the degree apprenticeship scheme by clicking here.
Even though I sometimes felt that I personally brought little to the table, I soon discovered that through careful preparation and research, I was able to offer resolutions to the issues raised. I often found myself travelling down to London on the train running through ideas and arguments to endeavour that my company’s views were fully considered. Even though I always felt that others knew far more than me, people still asked my opinion about things. I never did lose the fear of being out of my depth, but eventually, whilst only pretending to be confident and assured, some of my ideas were adopted as policy. On one occasion the chairman (from Sellafield) was unable to attend a meeting, and he unilaterally appointed me to chair it in his place! Although I was petrified, I tried hard not to let it show and as it turned out, the discussions ran smoothly and I wasn’t called on to adjudicate on any controversial points.
I readily admit to not enjoying the final aspect of the three parts to my role at that time. Writing procedures and policies is a dry subject at the best of times, and I was aware that by the time these schemes were adopted within the company, I could very well be retired. Yes, it was during these quiet times at home with my own thoughts I began to conclude that retirement may be a very pleasant option for me. It had taken many months, but I’d finally got there.
My life outside of work at this time was great and I was really appreciating being fit and well once more. Some cycling colleagues were discussing taking their bikes to the Alps in 2018 to tackle some of the famous climbs from the Tour de France. Part of me really wanted to go with them, but I only had one bike which was a heavy touring machine and not suited to riding Alpine passes. At this time, I realised that I was very much in the minority in having only one bike; everyone else had at least two, sometimes three or more. Once I’d decided to go to France with the group, I resolved to buy myself a suitable bike.
I went to Wallis Cycles, my local bike shop, and asked Martin, the owner, to suggest a suitable machine. He recommended a carbon framed bike which I rejected immediately. I have always grown up with steel bikes and, being very familiar with the material, that’s what I wanted. I had no real reason not to accept a carbon frame, other than that they sound plasticky when tapped and from my limited experience of riding them, I felt that the ride was quite hard. So we had reached a dichotomy: Martin wanted carbon and I wanted steel. At least we agreed that neither of us wanted aluminium alloy.
Several weeks went by until I received a call from Martin one day. He was at a bike fair and he’d spotted a titanium frame in my size which was being offered at a very good price. The company who produced it were pulling out of that market and so were selling off their remaining stock. I agreed that titanium was a very acceptable (and now affordable) compromise that we could both sign up to. Once Martin had bought the frame, he then set about sourcing all the best parts to go on it. My only real contribution to this was that I wanted a Brooks saddle, and since they produced a (hugely expensive) titanium model, that’s what I went for. The wheels Martin recommended were also outrageously expensive, but I accepted that they were right for the frame so I went along with his suggestion. I paid for the frame, the wheels and all the other parts over several weeks, so I never really found out what the machine eventually cost, but I knew that the final product was beautiful. It was as light as a cloud and incredible to ride; very responsive yet forgiving enough for longer days in the saddle. I collected it in late October and was then ready for the Alps in June the following year.
Back in 2014 the company had announced a voluntary redundancy (VR) for staff in certain roles, including my own. For all my working life the word redundancy had struck a cold chill in my heart and thoughts raged in my head such as: what if I were to lose my job? How would we manage to pay the mortgage? Perhaps these fears were still playing in my subconscious in 2014, even though I’d paid off my mortgage seven years previously and both the children were in work and paying their own way. That’s the only logical explanation I can imagine which explains why I didn’t grab the opportunity and apply for redundancy at that time. I remember looking at the options and deciding that since I was really enjoying my work and I was only 55 years old this wasn’t the time for me to leave. Retiring so early would have meant that my pension would have been reduced considerably, and so perhaps an element the decision simply boiled down to greed. Even though I could have survived comfortably on the reduced pension until I began drawing my state pension, I didn’t even apply. Ironically, I even took on a role helping to manage the redundancy process, looking at how people ‘at risk’ could be replaced by those who were willing to leave but happened to be in an ineligible job category.
When it was announced that all the jobs had been met with volunteers (I’d clearly done a good job!) I was surprised, and possibly even shocked to discover that my boss at the time, who was the same age as me, had been accepted for redundancy. Over the coming days, many more of my contemporaries came forward to announce their leaving dates, and I slowly realised that I had perhaps made a serious mistake. The company may never again announce such a generous VR package to encourage people to leave.
I was cautiously optimistic therefore when rumours began to circulate in late summer 2017 about another round of redundancies in roles such as mine. I was on holiday in Cornwall when Sharon called me from work to let me know that another VR scheme had just been announced. I clearly remember taking the call – I was walking along the coastal path from St Ives to Carbis Bay – to hear the details.
There were fewer posts to go this time, but I was in one of the eligible categories. I can’t say that I was delighted to hear the news, but I knew that this would definitely be my last chance to leave on generous terms before my normal retirement date in 2024.
After the upheaval and worries of the past year, you’d have thought that I’d have been delighted at this opportunity, but my memories of that time are that I felt that I ought to apply rather than being desperate to do so. Perhaps by not becoming overly excited about the prospect of retirement, I was subconsciously protecting myself in case my application was turned down. I certainly spent several days thinking through the options, and it was a further five weeks before I finally sent off my application requesting a leaving date of July 2018. I selected this date because it was at the end of the school year. We recruited graduates and apprentices in line with the school timetable, and so I knew that this way I could still be involved in their recruitment and selection, and I would be able to attend the degree award ceremonies of the latest batch of apprentices to graduate. Some colleagues couldn’t understand my logic for requesting a leaving date so far in the future; why wasn’t I looking to go as soon as possible? I think that I was still holding the belief that I was needed and so I wanted to make sure everything was ship-shape before I left. I think I was also mentally blocking out any parts of the job that I wasn’t really enjoying and only focussing on the good bits which I didn’t want to leave behind. In the end, it didn’t really matter since my application to retire early was approved in May the following year.