Working Girl
When I knew I was coming out to live in the U.S I wasn't even sure I wanted to work. I dreamily imagined fulfilling my days with worthwhile activities like shopping, lunching and shopping.
Less than a month in I have applied for my work permit. Those of you who have worked with me will not be surprised by this. A workholic by nature, there is only so much shopping you can do when you don't have a home of your own. I have taken to having lunch in Panera, a local Starbucks copy-cat. It's very nice, but filled with people working while eating. They are seemingly talking to themselves via bluetooth or scanning their laptops whilst chewing. What this says about the work ethos of this country I'll leave you to decide, but either way I have realised that I can work, lunch and probably shop at the same time if necessary.
Of course the trouble with getting a work permit is that you have to navigate yet another sea of red tape. It is quite complicated, and as usual in the U.S. is only made more so by the attempts to simplify it.
Step 1: Find the correct form on the Department of Homeland Security website, the Employment Authorization Document, known after by the first party of the first part as EAD apart from a Thursday when it is called a DOA, Friday when it is an LBW or Saturday nothing at all because the office is closed.
Step 2: Read through the accompanying explanatory 35 pages. Identify exactly what right you have to have the gall to even think of working in the U.S. Are you a legal alien from (tick box for the following) from Europe, Asia, Africa or Venus? Are you a student? Have you ever been a student? Are you sponging off your husband and bored witless stuck in a one bedroomed apartment all day? (I went with that one).
Step 3: Get husband to print off form at work because your printer is still somewhere over (hopefully not in) in the Atlantic.
Step 4: Fill in form. Find accompanying documentation. Documentation needed: copy of L2 visa (one for those sponging off working husbands). Copy of marriage certificate. 2 photographs which must be 2.5" square with your mouth not less than 0.5" from your left ear, preferably glowering as if you got off a plane at 3 a.m. Oh, and a cheque for $180 to pay for the privilege of being able to work in the first place.
Step 5: Take all information in the driving rain to the local Fed Ex office. Have photographs taken by girl several times until the one of you looking at your very worst is finally printed. Photocopy relevant parts of passport. Buy an envelope at least three sizes smaller than you need it. Discover you cannot actually send anything from said office.
Step 6: Watch umbrella crumble in the gale force wind as you struggle across the square to the UPS office. Buy new envelope two sizes too large. Copy out the correct address from a list of 800 places dependant on which state you are in. (Quite a big one by now). Pay an extra $1.36 to send said materials to be told it should reach its final destination in three days time.
Personally I think this is a ploy to make sure only the best people can get work. Only the very best will be able to beat the system to even apply for the permit. It can take up to three months to arrive, and then needs to be renewed about three months before it expires, three months after that.
Fortunately I have actually received my first offer of work. I'm developing my own after-school children's writing workshop, Bookworms for the Naperville Cultural Center. Luckily the job doesn't start until September.....
Less than a month in I have applied for my work permit. Those of you who have worked with me will not be surprised by this. A workholic by nature, there is only so much shopping you can do when you don't have a home of your own. I have taken to having lunch in Panera, a local Starbucks copy-cat. It's very nice, but filled with people working while eating. They are seemingly talking to themselves via bluetooth or scanning their laptops whilst chewing. What this says about the work ethos of this country I'll leave you to decide, but either way I have realised that I can work, lunch and probably shop at the same time if necessary.
Of course the trouble with getting a work permit is that you have to navigate yet another sea of red tape. It is quite complicated, and as usual in the U.S. is only made more so by the attempts to simplify it.
Step 1: Find the correct form on the Department of Homeland Security website, the Employment Authorization Document, known after by the first party of the first part as EAD apart from a Thursday when it is called a DOA, Friday when it is an LBW or Saturday nothing at all because the office is closed.
Step 2: Read through the accompanying explanatory 35 pages. Identify exactly what right you have to have the gall to even think of working in the U.S. Are you a legal alien from (tick box for the following) from Europe, Asia, Africa or Venus? Are you a student? Have you ever been a student? Are you sponging off your husband and bored witless stuck in a one bedroomed apartment all day? (I went with that one).
Step 3: Get husband to print off form at work because your printer is still somewhere over (hopefully not in) in the Atlantic.
Step 4: Fill in form. Find accompanying documentation. Documentation needed: copy of L2 visa (one for those sponging off working husbands). Copy of marriage certificate. 2 photographs which must be 2.5" square with your mouth not less than 0.5" from your left ear, preferably glowering as if you got off a plane at 3 a.m. Oh, and a cheque for $180 to pay for the privilege of being able to work in the first place.
Step 5: Take all information in the driving rain to the local Fed Ex office. Have photographs taken by girl several times until the one of you looking at your very worst is finally printed. Photocopy relevant parts of passport. Buy an envelope at least three sizes smaller than you need it. Discover you cannot actually send anything from said office.
Step 6: Watch umbrella crumble in the gale force wind as you struggle across the square to the UPS office. Buy new envelope two sizes too large. Copy out the correct address from a list of 800 places dependant on which state you are in. (Quite a big one by now). Pay an extra $1.36 to send said materials to be told it should reach its final destination in three days time.
Personally I think this is a ploy to make sure only the best people can get work. Only the very best will be able to beat the system to even apply for the permit. It can take up to three months to arrive, and then needs to be renewed about three months before it expires, three months after that.
Fortunately I have actually received my first offer of work. I'm developing my own after-school children's writing workshop, Bookworms for the Naperville Cultural Center. Luckily the job doesn't start until September.....
posted by Hilary at
1:08 PM
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