Tag: frustration

Ctrl+Alt+Layoff

Posted on by Jonathan

“So, you’re a pro at this. You know what you need to do.”

My therapist was trying her best to cheer me up amidst a shitstorm — our country falling apart and my being laid off. It will be my third time —I have to submit for unemployment again. 

“Imagine if this was your first time around,” she continued. “That’d be even worse — trying to figure out what to do with all of this happening. So, you at least know what you need to do.”

Where’s the safety net?

Thing is, I wish I didn’t. 

I actually don’t remember what I need to do at all as I write this. My brain has blanked out those parts of my memory, likely in an attempt to preserve a shred of my ego.

I hate this. I’m a proponent of welfare systems and safety nets — have been for as long as I can remember. I’ll tell you wholeheartedly that people who end up unemployed deserve help, regardless of what happened. I still stand by that.

I’m also the person who was always commended for my diligence and work ethic growing up. The overachiever. I never did the bare minimum. To do that would be to fail, to be lazy. And now, here I am, completely through no fault of my own — according to my former employer.

The one needing unemployment benefits for the third fucking time in my life.

I’m trying to apply now as I write this, and lo and behold, the NYS Department of Labor unemployment website is down. That feels… ironic? Fitting? Like some sort of sign from the universe stating a message in big, celestial letters? I don’t know anymore.

From the inside then to the outside now

(Image courtesy of Cottonbro Studio via pexels)

Here’s the thing: I interviewed people in my last three positions. And that’s how I know that all of these recruiters online saying you just need to tailor your every cover letter more or “use your network” are entirely out of touch with reality.

For one role,  literally over 700 people had applied. The founder of the company, because it was just the two of us at the time, asked me to do a first pass — and maybe a second and third. Out of those 700, maybe half fully met the qualifications. So, we had 350 individuals. 

We couldn’t interview them all, especially with just the two of us. We had to become pickier. So, who had more experience? Who had a more robust portfolio? Who had more education? On it went, until we could finally narrow it down to 15 or so individuals for an interview. 

We could hire only one person out of the 350, all of whom could definitely have done the job. We had to choose one. 

What do you do in that scenario?

Fast forward to another position, and my company was hiring for the person who would become my manager! It was very exciting, given that our marketing team was so small — just two of us — and we desperately needed the support. 

I can’t recall the exact number of individuals I helped interview. What I can say is that they had started interviewing for this position at least three months before I joined; it wasn’t until four or five months into my working there that they finally hired someone for the job. 

There were plenty of applicants, but some folks involved in the hiring process — who were much higher up the corporate ladder than my coworker and me — found something wrong with almost every single candidate. 

Some of the reasons: 

“He doesn’t seem to learn ‘actively’ enough.”

”She probably wouldn’t be able to push back against the SMEs (our experts) when needed.”

 And, of course, the classic, “Her attitude wasn’t great.” 

Eventually, they made a decision. It worked out that the person who was hired became one of the best managers I’ve ever had. Only for him to be laid off less than a year later.

At another job, we were hiring for an additional marketing team member — something we very much needed. I don’t know the total number of applicants. All I know is the three of us in the marketing team were provided about ten or so resumes and portfolios, give or take a few. The ones that had made it to this stage where we were interviewing them had already passed the initial interview process, so they clearly were qualified. 

So, how do you choose then? That answer depended on who you were talking to. 

Honestly

One applicant made a joke about Star Wars on their resume, and one of my coworkers thought that was too “cringe” to take him seriously and decided not to move forward with him.

Another applicant made the mistake of telling the truth. She confessed lacking knowledge in a specific area when another interviewer told her, “There are no wrong answers.” This coworker, after the meeting, explicitly stated that they had said the purpose was to “make the candidate feel more comfortable being honest,” so they could discern whether or not she had the right skills. Her honesty was her downfall. 

I know ethics can be subjective, but I was highly disturbed by this action.

So, no. It’s not about tailoring your resume or writing a perfect cover letter. And networking? It’ll help, but only to a degree. 

You need to have everything lined up — the experience, the tone, the timing.  And then you need a hiring team whose subjective views will accept you out of hundreds of equally qualified, if not more qualified, applicants.

I’ve seen both sides. Honestly, they’re both awful.  But at least on that side, I was getting paid.

Money, please

(Image courtesy of Nicola Barts via pexels)

It’s not like I’m doing nothing at all. I still have my dog-walking and pet-sitting side gig, and I’m doing a little freelance work here and there. I also hold a volunteer position, much as the title I have there gnaws at my imposter syndrome — Director? Me? What could I possibly contribute that would make it right for me to be the director of anything? I can’t even keep a fucking job.

My job tracker stares back at me as I type this. Sterile-white spreadsheet cells. No hope offered. Over 300 applications now — full-time, part-time, freelance, contract. And only two calls back. 

Well, technically, three. I had a recruiter reach out to me for a position with a major social media giant whose CEO met a revelation of needing more “masculinity” in the company and had just laid off thousands of highly qualified individuals. I turned down that conversation and job, thinking ‘You want male energy and called a Jessica; you’re a pig and called this Jessica; and if I took the job out of need despite all that, I’d still get canned due to the wrong energy field.’ Maybe only to also be labeled as an underperformer, with no evidence to back up that title.

I may feel like a fraud half of the time in my work, like I don’t deserve my title or my salary, but I know I’m not an underperformer. I am Jessica Day. If nothing else, I am a hard worker.

And yet, I’m left here with so many questions. So many frustrations. So many concerns.

How long will it take me to find a job? 

Will I ever find a job again?

Am I bad at everything I do? 

Am I always going to be laid off or furloughed? 

Is this going to happen again? And again? 

Can I trust any employer? 

Is it me? Is it them? What is it? 

Why has this happened? 

Why is our economy here yet again? 

When will people stop using “unprecedented” to describe this shitty moment in time? 

Will my generation ever know any semblance of calm? 

Will we ever be able to buy houses and have families and just have normal fears like what milk to buy instead of whether or not we can afford groceries?

I don’t know. 

I don’t know I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t. Fucking. Know. 

I wish I knew.

Where do we go from here?

(Image courtesy of Ron Lach via pexels)

In the meantime, I’ve been tracking the layoffs happening in our country. I’ve currently tallied tens of thousands of individuals laid off since the beginning of January. I’m one of the many. 

It’s horrific to think of everyone who’s lost their position, their livelihood. They lost their stability, their sense of direction.

And no, they can’t all be underperformers. That’s highly improbable, as anyone with any understanding of statistics could tell you.

Spiraling would be the word I’d use here. For myself. For the economy. 

There’s no easy way out of this situation, and everyone has their own idea of what the best way out is. The fact is, there is no best way out. 

I have a friend who just finally found another job, and I’m so proud of and happy for her. She’s worked with globally known companies and at an upper-management level. It still took her over six months to finally land a job offer — and as a vice president no less, which is very exciting and so deserved. 

But I look at her, with her impressive resume and years of experience, and then I look at mine….

It took her over six months. 

How long will it take me? 

What if my partner loses his job, too? 

Will we be able to survive? 

Will we ever find jobs again? 

Will we be able to retire? 

Will we have Social Security?

See how the spiraling is easy to fall into? 

Once you fall in, you can’t pull yourself out.

But I’m a pro at this, as my therapist said. Not just applying for unemployment, though still feeling shame, but also surviving scary events in history.

I’ve lived through the ice storm of ‘98, Y2K, the dot-com bubble, the 9/11 attacks, the 2008 financial crisis, the H1N1 scare, COVID, and now… whatever we want to call this chaos we’re living through that is our entire world right now — right alongside the rest of my generation.

I’m a pro at surviving. 

I can do this. 

I’ve got this.

Right? 

…

right?

(Image courtesy of Luca via pexels)

I Can Fly, Even with Clipped Wings

Posted on by Jonathan

I was born into a middle-class family, and studying at the university is not considered good for a girl. In more conservative rural Pakistan, girls might not get an education past sixth grade, because society says it. 

Stupid and aggressive in Fort Abbas

Five hours from Lahore is a small town, Fort Abbas, in the Cholistan desert of Punjab. I was born and grew up in this small town. Opposing the social norms here, grew my biggest dreams of being educated. 

But my father is a teacher. He supported me and my sister and did everything to encourage our college admission. Because I wanted to study, my relatives considered me a “stupid and aggressive” girl. They still consider me stupid. When I got admitted to the university, they taunted me every time. Education was not for girls. To be a girl is to aim for marriage and family.

Unfortunately, COVID-19 came, and classes shifted into online mode. Two semesters were completed smoothly at home. During the third semester, my sister and I returned to the hostel near our school, almost a dormitory – so many of them together in one large room. 

My Dad was not strong economically. He managed a side business, but due to the virus, it stopped.   That fixed passive-income amount which came from his teaching job, it became difficult to manage both our household and our education expenses.

 I decided to start a job as a content writer. This was my first experience, and I worked for eight months, during which time I got harassed several times and then I quit the job. After facing personal taunts, I wouldn’t say I like to work on-site, but all my education and hostel expenses were on me now. So, I applied for new jobs but there was no positive response. 

Instead,  I started my own business as a freelancer with a laptop that I bought from the savings of my previous job. I joined a digital marketing course at my university.  After three months, when the course ended, I created my freelancing profile on Fiverr. Four months passed and there were no orders. My profile on Fiverr was automatically blocked. 

I was so desperate, I created another profile — things seemed to work now — I started to get “clients”: one was fake, and the other one didn’t pay me. He blocked me after receiving his work. This hit me hard. I went into depression and skipped everything I was supposed to do — or dreamt of doing. 

A year passes, but a huge motivation

(Image courtesy of Cottonbro Studio via pexels)

After a year again, I motivated myself to restart — to come back to work. I created my profile on Upwork, wherein I got four orders. These orders were not big projects, but they gave me a huge boost. I spent all my money on Upwork applying for orders, but I got no more orders. 

Now, it was my eighth semester, and the most challenging one for me. Problems seemed to pour in from all directions —both at the university and at home. My Dad got a paralytic attack. It was nearly impossible to see him in that condition, totally bedridden. For the first time, I saw my strong Dad, my Dad who went against the society to educate us, crying. 

After a month of struggle and hardship, I got another on-site job, as a proposal writer. It was a great relief for my family — our finances would be handled now. But this job gave me the worst experience ever. I was insulted without any reason. I was warned thrice for no real reason, and at the end of the month, they dismissed me. Maybe because I was a girl. 

I was hopeless, and then my mom talked to one of her cousins. He hired me to work remotely. After just 15 days, he handed my job to someone else.

Trading, sales, marketing, challenges

But something else was in store for me. One of my friends gave me the idea of stock trading. I started trading, investing 10,000 Pakistani Rupee (around $35US), and I lost the trade. I ended up as a loser, with not a single penny in hand. 

No more savings, very hopeless and jobless. The eighth semester ended, and I managed to graduate, a mathematics graduate now — fortunately, the semester fees were paid in advance. After graduation, I  started a job in the sales and marketing department. So far so good, but looking back at all my failures in the past makes me skeptical of my success in the future. 

It seems so uncertain. It scares me with the thought of more failures. Coming from the kind of patriarchal society, where women do not go for higher studies, I am still living a dream with my degree and my potential. 

You have to marry someone

I know I am a brave girl. No one will come to motivate me and no one will come to support me. No one can hear my heart and no one can heal me. I will do everything for myself and change my lifestyle one day. This is my sole goal in life — I will create success out of many failures. 

Now that I am more accomplished on the educational side, I decided to focus not on what people speak of me, but solely on myself.

My family has lent me only two more years to run after and catch my dreams. Given my failures to succeed in this time limit — seems impossible. Else at the end of two years, my destiny will be — marrying someone they choose.  

This is my last opportunity to prove my potential. My father went against societal norms by sending his girls into higher education. It is now my turn to make my failures into my steps toward success.

Now, it’s my turn to prove that my father’s sacrifices were well-spent, for him and for me. 

(Image courtesy of Moaid Mefleh via Pexels)

Who Am I?

Posted on by Jonathan

If someone asks “Who are you,” how would you answer? Could you even answer honestly? Would you even answer in the first place?

“Who are you?” A simple question I’ve been very familiar with growing up. 

Different, though?

I still remember an incident as a child when my family and I visited a distant relative. My mother prompted me to go and greet our hostess, and the first thing that came out of her mouth was, “Who are you?” To which my mother replied, “She’s my youngest daughter.” 

Our hostess looked taken aback. “Is she? Why does she look so different from your other kids, though?” My mother explained that I inherited my father’s genetics, which stopped further questions.

Another incident was when my mother’s brother and sister-in-law once visited us from the US. I greeted them as they entered the house. I was already in high school at that time. My aunt asked, “Who are you?” 

My mother would once again explain that I am her youngest daughter. My aunt quickly responded, “You gave birth to another child? I thought you only had four children! Why didn’t I hear anything about her till now?” she asked, surprised by the revelation. 

Another shock came when I was already in my thirties. A friend of mine arranged a job interview for me at her office. I asked her if the boss knew about the supposed interview, but she assured me that everything was good. However her boss was unaware of it, and to my utter embarrassment he asked me in front of everyone present, “Who are you?’  Justify yourself. 

It’s funny how I still remember these incidents after so many years. There were still a few more incidents when I was questioned “Who are you!” I slowly became accustomed to the demand.

As a child, hearing this question over and over felt odd in some way, but I thought nothing about it. In my young mind, I thought it was just a usual way of life. But, as I matured, it made me question my very existence more and more.

“Who am I?” 

I would have answered it directly and honestly if not for the rumors flying around that I could no longer ignore. 

Some circumstantial shreds of evidence also led me to another question, “Where did I come from?” I tried finding answers on my own with no success. As the holy scripture has its Genesis, so should I. 

“How did I come to be?” a question I needed an answer to

When I was about eight or nine years old, my eldest sister had a little disagreement with our father about me, then she referred to me as their “ward” in a burst of anger. This incident made me realize that something wasn’t quite right with my situation because, even in anger, she should have referred to me as her sister, right? 

Nosy neighbors, friends, and relatives often asked my parents where I was born; surprisingly, they always had different answers. My father would say that I was born in Manila, while my mother insisted that I was born in the province, leaving me with more questions and doubts. I mean, which parents would provide opposing answers to a question they should have known the answer to, right?

Am I really “the daughter” or a “long-lost daughter of someone else?” 

Why does my very existence drive people to ask “Who are you?”It’s  a question not even I can answer. 

Not even family members are willing to answer. To the grave and beyond, I will carry these doubts. How I wish…. that I could proudly say that I know myself like the back of my hand, but I simply cannot, and that’s just how it will perhaps be for a long time.

Who am I? I feel like a simple person, still trying to find her niche in this world, trying to thrive and find happiness along the way, but if someone asks who I am in a literal sense, my response would be, “I don’t know.”

So many questions left unanswered, one after another. 

(Image courtesy of Magda Ehlers via  Pexels)

Who? What? When? Where? How? All running through my mind nonstop. And every time I try to unravel the mystery, I am met by a wall so high blocking my view of the truth. 

I am already weary of looking for some clarity. Yes, the truth might hurt, but also set me free? Only time will tell if I will ever discover the truth. With the way things are at the moment, who knows if I’ll ever find the perfect answer to the nagging question:

“Who am I?”