Landing a Job
Oprah promised it will get better
I may never “land a job” again. About four years ago, I was fired from a job I had for a decade. The “powers that be” would call it “position elimination” or “unfortunate circumstances of the recession.” As I have said before, you can call it what you want, when it happens to you it feels the same regardless of the surrounding circumstances and it is personal.
Because I was the “Sugar Momma,” as Hubby called me, I immediately began applying for other positions. I sent out many cover letters, résumés, and references. I filled in so many of those online applications that my eyes crossed. Indeed.com became my best friend and they sent me email after email after email telling me what a perfect fit this one job or that other job would be for me.
There were a handful of those that never made it out of the inbox of the hiring agent. But, I look great on paper, so I had a lot of interviews too. For two years, I interviewed with committees or chairs or directors. And, I would do well in the interview. I study before going in. I learn the website and mission of the institution. I am charming and funny. I laugh at their jokes.
Most of the time, I only learned that I wasn’t chosen for the position when I would read the announcement about the person who was chosen. I was appalled at the lack of communication between the folks doing the hiring and the folks applying for the position. One place did send a letter — an actual letter through snail mail! That was old fashioned, but at least it was something. For another application, I had multiple email messages back and forth with the person hiring the position. It seemed like we had built rapport with each other. Then, I was ghosted like I was a 15 year old in a high school romance novel. I never heard from him again. Nothing. Radio silence. Not even an old fashioned letter delivered by the postal service.
I landed some part-time gigs. One that is on-going and wonderful. It is the congregation I serve and without them over these four years, I’m not sure I would ever make my bed or take a shower. I’m so grateful for this opportunity to serve — even in the very part-time way it is. I stage manage sometimes. That comes and goes and with the Pandemic, it went for a long time. I haven’t had a full-time position since my career abruptly ended. I don’t want to be a cry-baby about it. But, I am trying to be radically vulnerable. We are three months into these daily blog posts and I’m still trying to figure out the difference between those two things. I guess if you think of it as whining, then you will stop reading.
After two years of steady “We are going in a different direction” emails or no emails at all, I stopped looking. Hubby ended up working full-time along with other part-time gigs and we have been able to manage. Kid #2 was in middle school and being bullied, so we started home-schooling. Then, of course, the Pandemic. It was helpful that I could be home to be the OCD monitor of all things school. I taught a couple of courses on worship via Zoom. I started a new faith community. I kept busy.
I got into a routine, of sorts. I don’t really do routines very well, but I settled in again. Over the last few months, I have found myself thinking aloud, “Wow, I have a great life.” I stepped away from the edge of the abyss that is depression and began to be grateful for the time I had to spend on things I feel called to do, including spending time with the kids.
Then, I heard about a position opening up that sounded perfect for me. I worked on my cover letter and résumé. And, of course, there was an online application in addition to that. I got an interview. I killed the interview. (I think I did, anyway.) I did not get chosen for the position. They went a different direction.
Before the interview, I wasn’t sure what I thought about any of it. I had been satisfied. But, this was going to make the financial situation at our house a lot less stressful, so it would be good. I would be great at the job. I honestly have no doubt about that. I feel weird saying that without apologizing, but it is the truth. I don’t know if I would enjoy the environment. I don’t know if I would miss how settled my life had become. I do know I would have been good at it.
After the interview, I still didn’t know what I thought. Honestly, I hoped they would hire a BIPOC. They need to. All you have to do is look at a website to know this. But, if they weren’t going to choose someone with darker skin tones than me, then I wanted to be the chosen one. Who doesn’t want to be chosen?
So, when I found out that I had not been chosen — again — all the same old feelings and questions began to circle my head. I made a list that day of questions I was asking myself. They weren’t deliberate. I just tried to notice what came into my mind. When something floated through, I wrote it down.
1. I must look good on paper. What happens in the interview that makes them not want me?
2. Oprah said the decade of the 50’s is the best. What is going to happen between now and May to make my 50’s better than this decade has been?
3. Is it because I’m almost 50?
4. Did they know the whole time who they were going to hire? This seems to happen all the time and I’m pretty sick of it.
5. Do I seem crazy to other people?
6. Is it because I’m fat?
Now, that last one is going to make some of you very uncomfortable. Sorry. That question went through my mind more times than any other. I don’t think people do it consciously. I don’t think the committee had a conversation about me after the interview saying,
“Well, she WOULD be perfect, if it just weren’t for that one thing.”
And, I wish it weren’t true, but I know it is true. I know it is true because I do it and I AM FAT. So, I know others are doing it all the time. Subconsciously, we decide what kind of person a person must be if they are fat. Words like “unhealthy,” “lazy,” and “slow” come to mind without us even registering that it is happening. Of course, words like “jolly,” “snuggly,” and “make the rockin’ world go round” come to mind too. The stereotypes aren’t all bad. If this was a reason, I don’t think the people making the decision even know that it was a reason. I can’t help but wonder.
One day, I said that whole Oprah thing to BFF — “Oprah says that my 50’s will be the best yet!” To which she replied, “Well, it couldn’t get any worse!”
Ouch!
As far as looking good on paper, I am one of those people who is over-qualified for just about everything I could get an interview for. Continuing my education, getting a doctorate seemed like the perfect idea at the time. And, had I been able to maintain my position at the seminary, it would have been. I educated myself for that particular position and while it does sound nice to list my degrees, there are few positions looking for such things from me. So, of course, they have questions about why in the world a person with such education and experience would apply for a job that only requires a Bachelor’s degree. I would wonder too. “Either this person is hard to work with or crazy or both!”
When I was in my twenties and early thirties, I got called all the time to do conferences or preach for special events. When the position opened at the seminary, someone called me to tell me to apply. I didn’t have to go look for it. So, one of the things that happens in not being chosen is the comparison to what once was. And, with that, inevitably I ask, “Am I just past my prime now? Will I never be able to land a job again?”
All these questions don’t even begin to touch on the theological. And, let me tell you, when a position seems to appear from thin air written for me and I’m still not chosen, there are a lot of theological questions! “What are you doing, God?!” But, I know I’m not the only one who thought this way about the position either. I’m sure many of the people who interviewed have some kind of faith that was guiding them in their decisions. There is no reason I should get chosen over someone else. It doesn’t stop the questions from coming to my mind.
I’m using the word “chosen” a lot because that is how it feels to me. I wasn’t chosen. And, I want to be chosen. Even if I were going to turn down the offer, it would be nice to be asked. I’m sure there are people in the world who can go through this process without it feeling so personal. And, maybe that is one of the things I should be working on, one of the things other people can see in me that makes them nervous. Maybe it shouldn’t feel so personal all the time.
I really am okay. I needed about five hours to grieve not being chosen. I will continue to ponder the “making it personal” thing, but right now I don’t think that is so bad. I do make things personal. I like being personal. I want to know you personally. I want you to be personal with me. Living in the world through radical vulnerability means things feel very personal. That may not be a way to “land a job,” but I happen to believe it is pretty good way to live a life.
