The Downward Spiral
Link to article
– Eric Campbell
I read Bait & Switch when it was first published. I am an IT
professional (or at least I used to be), and many of Barbara’s experiences in Bait &
Switch sounded familiar. I’ve been there.
The job fairs, where smiling college interns collected my resume while
being unable to answer the simplest of questions about the company or the jobs
they allegedly needed to fill.
The so-called “recruiters” and “headhunters” who have no real placement or
HR experience. They seem delighted just to meet with me, to put me into the
all-important DATABASE.
The networking groups, which remind me of the I Love Lucy episode featuring
the Friends of the Friendless. People bring cookies and other sweets, perhaps to
mitigate the overall bitterness they feel.
I have been told to find spiritual guidance, because HE will help me make
my car payments, if I accept HIM into my heart. OK, I exaggerate a little here.
Endless hours spent trolling the online job boards. Monster has 2,347,891
jobs today!
Thousands (yes, thousands!) of resumes and cover letters. I’ve licked
enough stamps to cover the Eiffel Tower. I’ve created enough digital refuse to
fill Madison Square Garden. Still no job.
In the past 5 1/2 years, I have been stuck in a downward spiral. I quit
looking exclusively for a computer job long ago. I have applied for jobs that
pay less than a livable wage, only to be turned away as “over-qualified.”
I have had potential employers not hire me because they were worried about
the number of jobs I have had over the past few years. The fact that I have been
repeatedly laid-off, my jobs out-sourced, matters little to them. They
sympathize, but I still appear to be damaged goods to them.
I have failed to get interviews for jobs that I am qualified to perform.
The reasons for this are many: been out of IT for too long; too many employers
in too short a period of time; and the very vague yet commonly used explanation
of how I am “just not the perfect fit.”
I have worked off the books as a painter and landscaper. I have gone broke
twice, and I’m on my way there for a third time. I have lost my apartment, been
forced to move in with my elderly parents. I’m 39; they’re in their 60’s. They
(and I) live in a retirement community. Oh, joy!
I have worked for temp-agencies and I took a so-called “survival job,”
which featured a profane, 73-year-old boss, and a vastly misrepresented job. I
lasted a whole year there.
Health insurance is a distant memory. So are most of the dreams I had for
myself. Some of my best years have been wasted. I’ll never get them back.
I have fundamentally changed as a person. I no longer laugh or make jokes
as much. When I do joke around, I notice my humor is tinged with bitterness. I
miss the person I used to be.
My personal life is of course intertwined with the professional side. How
can I initiate and nurture a relationship when I can’t even support myself? At a
time when my contemporaries are married, having kids, and moving up in their
careers, I just sit on the sidelines and watch. Forever the fan, I long to be on
the field.
The goal-oriented man I used to be has been replaced by a depressed soul
whose greatest accomplishment today may be fighting off the urge to take a
midday nap.
I have learned some things about myself that I can use as positives. I
realize I’m a bit stronger than I gave myself credit for, more resilient.
I seemed to have recaptured a compassionate streak I had in my youth. By
that, I mean that I have empathy for people who are suffering. Do I volunteer?
No, but neither do I simply dismiss the downtrodden as those who simply “don’t
try hard enough.”
I’ve searched for enjoyment not through the accumulation of “stuff” but
through the accumulation of experience. To that end, I have taken up hiking, and
I reconnected with my passion for reading.
I have also written several short stories, and I am working on my third
novel. All of my work remains unpublished at this time, but I don’t sweat it. I
have bigger problems. Job-hunting in this day and age requires a thick skin, so
when my queries to literary agents and various publications are returned with a
“no thanks,” I don’t let it get to me. I write for myself.
February 6th, 2007 at 10:05 pm
Identification.
I have learned the same lessons you have, especially the last part about re-learning compassion. Most people I know identify with the people they want to be, like Donald Trump or Bill Gates. I used to, but now I identify the other way. When I read about Florida laws that prevent feeding homeless people, I see myself in solidarity with the homeless, or the law-breakers who feed them right in front of City Hall. When I saw people left to die in New Orleans, I saw myself and my family being left to drown. When I see videos of kids beating up homeless people, I see myself being beaten.
God forbid enough people like us ever find ourselves in a position to fight back. Or rather, God willing.
March 6th, 2007 at 9:37 am
i have recently read both of barbara’s books and have had some life experience with what she writes about. most of my work life has been doing minimum wage jobs with my associate in arts degree and my job gaps. some jobs i cant do or not good at like being a housekeeper in a motel/hotel. nowdays there is so much to remember and then the younger generation are rude and use bad language in and out of the work place. Am I a prude?