Unemployment Goggles

The bright side of struggling to find a foothold in the awful job market

It’s nothing new to say the job market sucks at the moment, especially for those of us just graduated from college. The guarantee of a degree-to-career pipeline is dead, and it’s been miserable applying to job after job since May. And yet, it might be an opportunity to shift focus and build a new perspective, something I’m entirely awful at most of the time.

I moved back to New York City two weeks ago, with some savings and some hopeful interviews for a few jobs in the service industry. The stress had been motivating me to apply to anything that looked even relatively applicable to my skills all summer, though nothing was breaking.

I’ve been ghosted by over 300 jobs by now. Jobs that I took time to apply for: I customized my resume, I wrote a cover letter, I even reached out to the recruiters and hiring managers that I could find at the company to try and stay ahead. Nothing worked. They weren’t things that I was underqualified for either — I’ve worked in two separate internships within my industry, plus work for free as a writer to try and build my portfolio and continue honing my skills.

But here I am in New York City, nonetheless.

The stress of the summer wasn’t needed. It will all work out. I have friends who have lived here for years on service wages, and they love it. I love it here, so why overcomplicate the experience? Why focus on the unknowables and the uncontrollable when, instead, you can enjoy where you’re at?

It’s corny and simple, but it’s something I’ve held onto in these first two weeks as I try to kickstart my new life here. It doesn’t mean I stop working hard — I’ve found jobs that pay me enough to get by, and I still spend every day browsing the job boards and shooting off applications for roles that I’m right for (if anyone knows a company that’s hiring a writer, editor, or really anything communications-based, please let me know).

However, I’m also enjoying where I’m at.

I spend the bare minimum I can every day. I cook at home, hop the subway, and walk to where I need to go as much as I can. But that’s held a whole new experience, and I’ve found beauty in the small, daily occurrences in a way I never have before. In a way that I always wished I had:

- I see the little kids and their parents walking to school every day, gossiping about whatever exciting events occur day-to-day there, and I feel nostalgic for the connection that family brings

- I see someone talking to their shirtless boyfriend on FaceTime in the middle of the street, walking in front of me, which, while it’s objectively hilarious to see, makes me realize the confidence that comes from a healthy, loving relationship

- I see a group of old men sitting on a street corner around a card table playing dominoes, and I feel hopeful that I have friends who’ll want to be with each other even as we grow old

- I see a little boy playing with cars and trucks on the sidewalk as his family stands around him, and I feel proud of the future that could be a reality with a new generation

- I hear the bugs calling in the trees when I leave the subway station on 191^st street at night, and I feel homesick yet in complete awe of nature’s resilient consistency

- I see a woman pushing a covered stroller come towards me, only to discover that there’s a tiny dachshund in the seat, not a child, and I feel like I need to get a dog whose unconditional love inspires me to treat it like a human child, unabashedly

I’ve seen, heard, and felt all these things in just two weeks because my head hasn’t been down, barreling towards some arbitrary goal that’s been sculpted by a system that’s clearly meant to maintain inequality and inequity. Instead, I’ve paid attention and felt fulfilled by the things that human nature compels us to do. I’ve felt an overwhelming sense of connection to individuals as I walk past them in a city of over eight million people.

I know that it’s basic and saccharine to be grateful for life, but it’s also the reality. My twenties don’t need to be defined by what I do and don’t achieve in a career that can only provide so much. Right now, life’s about building relationships that fill my cup.

I know I’ll make rent and be able to get groceries for now — they’re not going to be the best groceries, nor do I live in a penthouse apartment. But I have a safe, secure home and food every night, plus a wealth of experiences that leave only a feeling of gratefulness behind. And I’m glad I can take the time to see things, really.

P.S. I do still need a career job, so…