Diary of a Laid-Off Dad: Episode 14
I really hate to date myself . . . But I’ve never tried online dating (seriously, no pun was intended here).
Not eHarmony.
Not Match.
Definitely not Tinder.
I only have second-hand knowledge of such dating sites from friends and family. Still, lacking any other frame of reference, had I tried online dating I suspect I would find it very similar to job searching in this day and age . . .
Because it’s so impersonal.
So dejecting.
And so horrible.
You’re a number. That’s all there is to it. Yes, you can revise and beef up your LinkedIn profile, or resume, as I have done many, many times now. Don’t get me wrong: It helps. But it’s like trying to be seen and heard as a spectator at a rock concert. You’re not on stage. You’re not performing. So you feel lost in a sea of noise, noise, noise.
Partaking in a tiring and hopeless activity such as looking for a job has turned into a learning experience. No, a (re)learning experience. Because I’ve applied to jobs before. I’ve done the long searches. I’ve faced rejection after rounds of interviews. So I’m no stranger to the malaise of it all.
Still, this all feels so much different.
For one, I have more experience than I’ve ever had. My background reflects the longest stretch I’ve ever spent in one career. In my younger life, dreams drove me to pursue a profession in the arts, which included a B.A. degree. When my lofty pursuits did not pan out, I nonetheless managed to find work . . . For the most part.
Then the Great Recession hit. Suddenly, my few years in the job market following college graduation counted for nothing. I mean nothing. I sent out resumes by the hundreds. Nothing. I cold called businesses. Nothing. I expanded my search parameters. Nothing.
That song-and-dance went on for months. Thankfully, I was single, so my expenses were minimal. Also, I was still young, so after months of nothing I did land some interviews, including one with a job placement agency willing to take a chance on a greenhorn like me, which helped me land a gig at an insurance company.
Fast forward to today. I’ve faced unemployment one other time and job switches a few more than that. In all those circumstances, I met challenges where I had to present the best version of myself, both on paper and in-person. The resumes. The online profiles. The interviews. The whole gambit.
The thing non-job seekers don’t get is that the game has changed. Entirely.
A few examples . . .
In my previous life, if I made it to the panel interview stage, I was all but guaranteed an offer, or barring that, at least a call saying they passed on me and it was between me and another finalist. Now, even if I make it to the panel interview, I rarely hear back. And when I do, I find I was one of many (relatively speaking), usually five or six finalists. Which meant many more than that met with the hiring manager. And even more than that spoke with the recruiter. And many hundreds and hundreds more had submitted resumes which were vetted, almost always by an Applicant Tracking System (ATS), which spewed out a soulless rejection email, if one was sent at all.
And then there are the people I’ve spoken with, however small that number may be. Hiring managers used to be seasoned or veteran employees at the top of their profession. Some ten years ago, when I interviewed for my first HR job, my manager was a woman with over twenty years of experience. Now, I am interviewing with hiring professionals with only a handful of years at their respective companies. They themselves have switched career or job titles in recent memory. Many have even been laid off themselves or faced unemployment as of late . . . And you would think that their experience would make them more sympathetic to job candidates, not less. But alas, whatever their background, I have encountered many a hiring manager with less experience than me who are also much less sympathetic than I would have liked or expected. (To be fair, I have met a share of hiring managers who have been sympathetic to my job woes, and to them, I offer up a thank you to the universe for their grace and understanding.)
And lastly, in the not-so-distant past if my experience fit the job description to a T, I would get a call or email and would all but be guaranteed an interview. Now, no matter the tailoring I do to my resume, a perfect match between what I offer and what the employer seeks guarantees nothing, save my resume falling into an endless void with only the smallest chance of it being snatched up for a passing glance.
So, coming full circle to my online dating analogy: Swipe left, swipe right, ignore me altogether or reach out with a template email greeting to get my hopes up. To anyone (especially employers) reading this, I am one of many. With so many choices out there for companies, in perhaps the largest applicant pool in recent memory, I struggle to set myself aside as a top candidate. I can present the very best version of myself. Hell, I can embellish or flat out lie my ass off. It will make little difference to the ninety-nine percent who see me and pass. It might make a difference to the one percent who choose to take a chance and connect with me. The luck of the draw is against me, so I wait for the day fortune favors my plight. For that will be the day this guy — the one percent of the one percent — considers himself fortunate. Not at having found true love. But in having had the chance to find a diamond in the rough: a job.
