There are people who worked their entire lives on the Louisiana gulf as fishermen who are now employed to lay on their stomachs and wipe off oil from blades of grass. As if it weren't bad enough that the careers they based their entire lives around suddenly disappeared, they are now employed by the very company who stole these careers from them to perform demeaning, painstaking and perhaps senseless work. At the same time, their freedom of speech was taken away from them— to get this job they had to agree not to talk to the press.
And that's just one recent example of the sort of horrible situation someone might find themselves in these days. There are people who worked for companies or corporations for their whole lives, who were abruptly laid off and found themselves with no money or other opportunities. There are people who have been hurt on their jobs who are denied their disability claims and cannot physically work, there are people whose houses, jobs and communities were lost in floods, tornadoes, hurricanes, etc. These are obviously all very bad situations. So to compare my own situation with any of these seems selfish and melodramatic.
So, I'm not trying to do that. I didn't write this to say my current position is particularly terrible. I wrote it to point out how bad the situation really is out there for people who are not as lucky as me.
I have an enormous safety net — though my parents aren't enormously wealthy, they would never let me starve to death or live on the street. I live with my boyfriend and as far as I can tell, he isn't going to kick me out for missing my rent payment. Even if for some reason Chris and my parents left me in the dust (which they wouldn't), I have plenty of friends who are accommodating enough to provide food or shelter for me if it were really necessary.
I have technically been unemployed since November, but mostly by choice. I chose to quit my jobs and go to Southeast Asia with the money I saved working in restaurants. I chose not to get a job after I came back from my 4 ½ month spree of volunteering and vagabonding so that instead I could focus on fixing up my parent's yard and patio as a gift to them.
I moved back to Chattanooga almost three weeks ago, though it feels like much longer when daytime television starts to seem like a valid form of entertainment. I graduated with a 3.8 GPA from the University of Tennessee in Knoxville, and while I don't have much experience in what I call big kid jobs— where you sit in an office and daydream about your weekends off and retiring someday— I have plenty of experience in restaurants, as I've worked in them since I was 16.
I have some money, thanks to my parents, I have some food and shelter, thanks to my lovely boyfriend, and I have friends and contacts in a variety of places here. I have a car that I can use to go apply for jobs all over the city. I have gas for my car. I have a degree. I have experience in the service industry. I've never been convicted of a crime. So things could be worse for me, obviously. But being rejected every day at least a few times for a couple weeks will take a beating on anyone. How many more applications can I possibly fill out before I lose hope altogether? If I didn't have a car, I would give up sooner. If I didn't have food to eat, I would give up sooner. If I didn't have friends and family encouraging me, I would give up sooner. Even in my privileged situation, I have slumped into a near depression because of my constant job search and lack of hope. I have started to feel like I am just sending out resumes attached to balloons into the air and hoping someone eventually responds to me. I have generally gone out daily on a job search, but on a couple of particularly sluggish and depressing days felt so overwhelmed with the idea of it that I felt trapped in my apartment and doomed to live a lonely, lazy housewife-type life. I've thought I might as well stock up on stretchy pants and potato chips and spend whole days according to the View and Rachel Ray.
I know I know, I sound like a spoiled little brat. It's been a couple weeks, and I almost did have a job there for a second, though that's a whole other story. But maybe because I do recognize my privileges, it makes me feel even worse for feeling bad in the first place, so I find myself trapped in a circle of guilt and genuine frustration. Every time I feel like screaming or crying, I think of people who have been unemployed for years because their jobs were outsourced, or people who can't get a job because they are raising four kids by themselves. Then I think, wow, Jessica, stop being an idiot. Things will work out for you eventually. And then I think that unfortunately for some people, that might not be true. Some people really might not find a job, or they might be trapped in a job that pays only minimum wage and they will always be struggling to find food and shelter for themselves and their families.
Since the recession, most of the stigma of being unemployed has worn off, as people have seen their friends, families, co-workers, or themselves suddenly jobless. But some people still hold onto the idea that the unemployed folks in this country are just lazy, unskilled, and purposely abusing the system. I can say now from personal experience that this is simply NOT TRUE (not that I thought that before). Times are tough out there, even for young, white, college-educated, well-traveled, privileged girls like me. But they are much tougher for most people, and I truly recognize that.
