#hell project stalled out AGAIN. had to email a guy who LEFT THE AGENCY asking for help

[bright-and-burning]

i am not feeling very girl boss today

[jansen1107]

How the Mighty Have Fallen

I started 2017 unemployed. I’m now on my third week. It feels strange to be writing that, especially where the national unemployment rate in the U.S. stands at 4.7% as of now. Almost everyone I know has a job. So, what happened with me?

The last job I had was a three-month gig working freelance for $55 an hour at my former ad agency, which I had left full-time in June after four years. They were nice enough to have me back to help out with some projects. My gig was supposed to go through to this year with the possibility of going full-time on a new account, but my manager spoke to HR and HR spoke to the Finance department. Finance came back with a resounding “No!” And here I am.

From 2014 to 2015, and shortly after I moved to New York City, I would receive as many as 3 recruiters a week bombarding my LinkedIn in box with invitations to interview for other companies. Sometimes they’d get really ballsy and write to my work email. The ad agency I worked for had just moved me to their New York office at the end of summer 2013, so I ignored the offers coming in. There was a clause with my agency where if you left within a year of being transferred, you had to pay back all of the moving fees. In some cases, companies that hire you will pay the fee. I saw this happen with a guy who was moved to the New York office from North Carolina and who left after eight months. He and I would end up at the same agency later… and I would leave that agency in flames.

Within the first couple years of moving to New York, I received some heady offers to interview with companies that were all outside of the city. It seemed like just having “New York” stamped on my resume suddenly made me desirable to companies in other regions. One recruiter asked if I’d be interested in interviewing as a medical editor for an ad agency in San Diego. Another asked if I’d be interested in running my own editorial department for a new agency in Denver. It was so tempting, but I turned them down. I had just gone through the stress of moving all my shit (and I have A LOT of shit) and my cat to New York. Why would I want to go through that again so soon?

This morning, when I logged in to Facebook, I was taunted by one of those flashback posts from two years ago today. In that post, I humble bragged about being offered an interview with an agency in Raleigh, North Carolina. Although I didn’t want it, I asked if any of my friends would be interested. I believe in sharing the wealth, and if I have good fortune and don’t need it, I’m certainly okay with passing it along to someone who might.

Those were good times. I definitely felt like a rock star back then, and I said to myself, “I hope these job offers are still coming in when I’ll need them.” Famous last words.

Back in June of 2016, I finally heeded the siren call of the job recruiters. Big mistake. The recruiter offered me the biggest salary yet. With my rent going up another $100 in September, I really needed to find a job that would pay. This place seemed like it would fit the bill, no pun intended.

The agency (I’ll call them Beige) was not the right fit for me from go, and a little voice inside my head told me to turn back. I should have listened, but I overrode my instincts and went ahead with the interview. The recruiters were really gunning for me to take the job. I found out during several phone calls I had with them that they were getting a huge fee for placing me, based on my salary. They assured me that this place was all about work/life balance and I wouldn’t be expected to stay late like so many other agencies. (“You’ll be able to get home in time to have dinner and hang out with your cat.”) During the onsite interview, the woman who would end up being my boss very sweetly told me that Beige didn’t believe in overworking its editors. I wouldn’t be expected to work more than 40 hours a week because I needed to be fresh to do my job, she said. While work/life balance had never been an issue at my old agency, everyone I talked to was making this place sound like a country club with great pay. How could I say no? And, believe me, I did stall right up until the eleventh hour because of that nagging voice in my head. But pressure from the recruiters and Beige caused me to give in. (Or, I chose to give in. I have to take responsibility for this.)

Basically, the fuckers lied to me.

Within the first few weeks of being crammed into what felt like an open-air market with impeccably dressed people, I soon discovered that I was actually working in a sweatshop. A typical workday never went below 9 hours and 11 to 12 hours was not unusual or even questioned. I worked three Saturdays in a row because the account managers couldn’t say no to a bullying client that demanded the world on a silver platter. (We were constantly being reminded that our competitors were always showing the client how they could do things better.)

I’ve gone on at length about this experience in an earlier blog entry, if you care to read it, so I’m not going to beat this dead horse anymore. Suffice it to say, Beige was a shit show of an agency. I felt like I had been shanghaied to work on a pirate ship and that I could stick it out or walk the plank. One Monday morning, after my boss called me to her desk to deliver some sugar-coated criticism, I decided to walk the plank. It was probably the best thing I did for my health. But for my career? Not so much.

When I updated my resume on LinkedIn following this debacle, it seemed like the emails from recruiters dried up almost immediately. There was one who showed interest, and I agreed to let her place my resume with an agency that I had turned down a couple years before. Days went by after she submitted it, and there was no call. I’ve always been used to things happening very quickly. I have a lot of great experience. When I submit a resume, I almost always get a call the next day for an interview, and I usually have a new job by the following Monday. Not this time.

My mother asked me if I thought I had been blacklisted. While I don’t think Beige is wasting their time putting out the word about what a dud I was (that would be highly illegal, I imagine), I do think that the three scant months now appearing on my resume is giving some potential employers pause. The recruiter I mentioned earlier told me one potential employer was pleased that Beige was on my resume, but then I didn’t hear a word after that. I imagine the recruiter played up the fact that I worked at Beige, but then when the potential employer had the resume in hand, they looked at the timeline and asked, “What happened here?”

So, do I lie on my resume? Should I delete that bit of time and just say in an interview (if I get one) that I took the summer off to write a novel? Or take care of my elderly grandmother? Or to find myself? It’s tempting to just wipe it out, but then it becomes a lie by omission. And there’s always the danger of ending up at another agency with someone who remembers me from Beige and then tells my manager, who can’t seem to recall Beige ever being on my resume. It’s a real conundrum.

At times like these, I think about the hoops some of my ancestors had to jump through to find work. In the 1920s, my great-grandmother had just divorced my alcoholic great-grandfather at a time when divorce was taboo. On top of that, she had a three-year-old son (my grandfather) whom she had to cart off to relatives just so she could pass herself off as an unmarried woman and get a teaching job. It’s sad to think now.

On my father’s side, my Native American ancestors oftentimes had to pass themselves off as white just so they could get jobs and housing. As a result of the horrible bigotry they faced, they went deep into the racial closet, and we have no idea what tribe we’re descended from. And we’d like to know. (My parents both just did the DNA spit test, so I’m hoping we’ll have some answers soon.)

The point of all this is that the times have changed but the bullshit remains the same. Talented people with great experience are discriminated against for circumstances beyond their control. For me, ageism is a very real issue I have to contend with. My mother says it doesn’t hit until one is in his/her 50s, but I’ve already felt the sting in my 40s. I could also be denied a government job simply for the fact that I’m gay and because my orientation doesn’t jive with a Christian doing the hiring. Gaps in employment are scrutinized and can cost you a job. And if I do take a job, and it sucks, and I leave after three months—an employer is going to look at me, out of context, like I’m a quitter, regardless of the names and years of experience I have to show. I’m dead in the water.

As of this writing, I’ve sent out close to 10 resumes during the past couple weeks. Of those, I’ve only spoken to one recruiter who is trying to place me with one of several agencies within her domain. I’m hopeful, but I know the reality is that I could end up like so many executives who found themselves without a job and are now working as greeters at Walmart—and wondering what the hell went wrong. I say that will never happen to me, but will it?

I’ve applied for unemployment at the urging of my friend Julie and stand to gain a whopping $430 a week in benefits, if I’m even accepted. (That doesn’t go far in NYC, believe me.) My student loans have been put on hold for three months as a hardship forbearance. Luckily, my Obamacare health insurance is paid through March 1. (Small blessings.) I’ve already started to extract some toys from my toy collection to sell on eBay. (I did this back in 2005 during a work downturn and managed to pay my utilities this way for several months.) And I’m contemplating cashing in one smallish 401k account that would allow me to pay my rent and utilities for six months while I look. (This is fine for the short-term, but my 80-year-old self might suffer from it.) That would be a last-ditch effort following two months without a job offer. The gears are always turning, and I’m trying to be resourceful and keep my head above water. Hopefully, something will happen before then.

Sigh… Welcome to 21st-century America. It’s true what they say: The more things change, the more they stay the same. It isn’t doing much to help us, let me tell ya.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1qc0Fi8kxnE