One of the many challenges of being unemployed is finding productive things to do with your time. Normally, I am pretty good at this - I have a habit of filling idle time with helpful and interesting pursuits such as going to church, exercise, scrapbooking, blogging, and learning additional languages. I am also a stress cleaner, which means that my space is pretty much spotless when I'm under pressure. Unfortunately, my scrapbooking supplies are in storage, my mother gets antsy when I clean her space, and I simply do not have the motivation to pick up Russian or Greek. Daily Mass is only thirty minutes long, and Texas is so bloody hot that I can only go running after sunset. Plus there's only so much time you can spend blogging before you sound like a self-absorbed prat.
So, after my first round of interviews turned out to be fruitless, I decided to try my hand at public assistance. My mother warned me that I would probably not get anything, but I figured that I had as good a shot as anybody, as I had no job, no car, and an AGI of 0 on last year's tax return (yay, foreign-earned income exclusions!). I had already spoken with the Texas Workforce Commission and confirmed that I was ineligible for unemployment (since we worked abroad in 2013 and didn't contribute to unemployment insurance in Texas). My goal was just to be honest and straightforward and see what, if anything, I was eligible to receive.
In my opinion, public assistance has an unfairly bad reputation, particularly here in the South. Growing up, I heard all kinds of stories about people who are perpetually on welfare, who just keep having children because they didn't want to work and each additional dependent meant another check, and welfare queens who could make a fortune because they knew how to "milk the system." My sojourn into "the system" confirms what I already suspected about such stereotypes - that most of them are untrue and based on political rhetoric (which naturally makes them kind of ridiculous). The "welfare queen" anecdote came from story time with Reagan in the 70s and was based on one brilliant and dangerous con artist who operated under dozens of aliases to collect public assistance. Most of the poor have children they can't afford because of ignorance about family planning and lack of social standing to negotiate safe sex, and the high rates of abortion among poor women confirm that most of them don't want to "keep popping out babies." I know too many people run ragged by their own small children to believe that someone who is destitute would consciously have another one to receive a negligible amount of public assistance that winds up being a net negative economically anyway.
But I digress.
Texas has a handy website, "yourtexasbenefits.com," that allows you to apply for multiple public assistance programs in one place. (The fact that it only works in Firefox is less handy, but I got used to playing with different browsers in Korea.) After putting in all of my information and selecting the programs I wanted to apply for, I received a letter in the mail a few days later that I would be contacted for a phone interview to verify my claims. The call came the following week.
Lady on the phone: Hi, is this Jessica Ker...Keralis?
me: Yes.
Lady: This is your phone interview for your benefits application. I see that you and your husband...Joel? She pronounces it "ho-el," i.e., the Spanish pronunciation.
me: Joel. I correct her.
Lady: Joel, sorry. I see that you both are on this application. Does he live with you?
me: No, not right now.
Lady: ...He doesn't live with you?
me: No. He's staying with his parents in Nebraska right now.
Lady: Okay, well if he doesn't live with you, he can't be on your application.
me: I figured, but the online application made me include him because he's on my tax return.
Lady: Oh. Well, he can't be on your application if he doesn't live with you.
me: That's fine.
Lady: Okay, let me just fix that...and you're not eligible for Medicaid, so...it looks like you're only eligible for food stamps.
me: Okay.
She then explains to me that I'll receive my SNAP (Supplemental Nutritional Assistance Program) card and further instructions in the mail, and then hangs up. Sure enough, the card comes, letting me know that I'll receive monthly deposits on the card from May to August. Then another letter (my "First and Final Notice") comes in explaining that I have to go to a place called "Workforce Solutions" to get help finding work "no later than MAY 28, 2014" in order to continue receiving benefits. Having nothing better to do, I head in the day before for my first day of "job search counseling."
After I fill out yet another online resume, the guy at intake gives me one of those electronic buzzers (like the ones you get at restaurants) and tells me that I am welcome to use one of the computers while I wait for my "job search counselor." I take a seat at one of the cubicles and study the room. It's mid-afternoon and the place is busy, with all manner of people on the computers and talking with agents. Finally, my buzzer buzzes, and I sit down with a friendly older lady named Suzanne. We exchange pleasantries, and then she logs into my job search profile. "Let's see what you've got he- oh, wow," she mutters. "You've got quite a lot of experience."
I smile and give a brief synopsis of my current situation - that I am a public health professional by training who has just come back from living and working abroad, and that I am looking to re-enter my field and find work while my husband works on his Master's degree at UT. I explain that I have been applying for public health positions with the state health department and also on the federal level, as I have been professionally boarded by PHS and am trying to secure an officer's commission. I assure her that I am applying for relevant jobs on a daily basis and have been doing so since March, and that I have had multiple interviews already with more lined up, but that it is just taking a while for me to find something. Her eyes continue to widen as I chatter on. "So, I know that you all are here to help people to get back on their feet to find work, but I'm guessing I'm not your typical applicant," I finish.
"Wow," she utters.
She's very curious about my experience teaching in Korea, so we chat for a bit about my reasons for going abroad and my long-term career goals. To my relief, she's sympathetic to the difficulties of the job market but seems confident that I will find something soon. "It looks like you don't really need my help," she says with a smile. She then explains that I have to fill out a weekly job-search log for the next four weeks to verify that I am actively looking for work, and after that - if I haven't found any employment - I will have to start doing community service.
Over the next four weeks, I dutifully fill out the log and turn it in, continuing to apply and interview as outlined in Part One. Finally, I get another letter in the mail telling me that I "must accept a community service job to earn [my] food stamps." I head in to Workforce Solutions with my final job search log on Friday (the 20th) and, after visiting briefly with Suzanne to update her on my job search efforts, I sit down with Sofia to discuss my community service.
Sofia: So, because you've been job searching for four weeks and haven't found anything, you have to start doing community service.
me: Okay. When do I have to start?
Sofia: Next week. You'll go to the volunteer orientation on Tuesday, and they'll tell you what to do from there.
me: I can't go on Tuesday. I have a job interview in Austin on Tuesday, so I won't be back in town until that night. Can I go the following week?
Sofia: Well, by then you'll be into July, so you'll be penalized by losing your food stamps.
me: But...I have a job interview.
Sofia: What time is your interview?
me: It's at 3, but it's in Austin. I have an interview on Monday, too, so I'll be there for two days.
Sofia: Okay, but if you can't make the orientation, you'll lose your food stamps for July.
me: Look, I understand that you guys have a system here - the whole idea is to do volunteer work to gain experience that will help me find a job. I understand that. But I'm a public health analyst. I worked as a consultant for the state health department for two years before I left for Korea, so I'm trying to find work in my field again and this isn't going to help me. I've been getting interviews - I've had nine already, and I've got five more next week.
Sofia (eyes widening): And you still don't have a job?
I suppress my frustration by flashing her my biggest smile. "The job market is tough for everybody, no just for unskilled laborers. I'm not opposed to doing community service, but if I have to choose between the job interview with the health department and a volunteer orientation, I'm going to my interview. If I have to lose the benefits, so be it; the job opportunity is more important."
At this point she nods and goes to speak with her supervisor. After a few minutes, she comes back and tells me that they've given me a waiver for the next week, provided that I fill out a job search log for that week and bring in proof that I had a job interview at the time of the orientation, and that I could attend the orientation the following week (which is tomorrow). I have to do at least 27 hours of service per month at the food pantry in order to continue to receive benefits through August.
The whole benefits process, while exasperating at times, has nonetheless been an eye-opening experience for me. Though I know that there are some people who intentionally lie to claim benefits - e.g., by getting a doctor to sign off on a disability claim, or collecting unemployment benefits when they are not really looking for work - the idea that poor people "game the system" in order to keep receiving these meager stipends to me is just lunacy. It's such a pain in the ass to go to these places, stand in line, and work with "personal service representatives" who aren't invested in helping you and can't work with your own unique job and family situation even if they were. The people I have seen there are all different ages, races, and life stages; some are well-dressed, some look homeless, some are immigrants, some bring their children, and some are a few ants short of a picnic, but nobody wants to be there. The whole process is incredibly degrading, which - as the husband reminds me - is deliberate, to motivate people to get off of assistance as quickly as possible. There's a lot that can be said about that, but that's another rant for another day.
At any rate, it looks like I'll be volunteering at a food pantry this month. I suppose that's another productive way to spend my time.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Friday, June 20, 2014
When Malaise Morphs into Despair, Part One: The Never-Ending Interviews/Quando mal-estar se transforma em desespero, primeira parte: as entrevistas intermináveis
Yes, I am still unemployed. Nine weeks after my return to the great US of A, after diligently searching for employment in the private, public, non-profit, and academic sectors since the beginning of March, after nine interviews (with five more coming up next week!), dozens of resumes, and probably over a hundred job applications at this point, I am still living in my mother's house. How, you might ask, can a reasonably intelligent and attractive young woman with a Master's degree and a solid work history still be unemployed after earnestly searching for nearly four months?
Your guess is as good as mine.
After all, it's not like I've been idle this whole time. As you can tell from the title of this post, I've been on an astounding number of interviews and applied for public assistance in the meantime. I apply for five to ten jobs per day - and they're all jobs I am well-qualified to do. I've been working out and training for my PHS physical fitness test that I would love to take, once I can secure a federal job. Joel and I contribute to my mother's household; I clean and he cooks delicious meals (as he is wont to do). I network, I follow up on interviews by e-mail, I am gracious when turned down and immediately available if I have to drive two hours to Austin for an interview tomorrow (which actually happened about two weeks ago). But most of all, I pray - rosaries, novenas, chaplets, and Masses - that I find something, anything, that will allow us to have a space and a life of our own.
Still, nothing.
It's certainly not for lack of trying. I suspect I am on the verge of setting some kind of record for number of interviews; just take a gander at them so far:
*Technically, this position is still pending - I followed up with them three weeks after my interview, and they said they were still deciding - but seeing as it's been over eight weeks and I've heard nothing (even though they explicitly said they would let me know either way), I have essentially given up on it.
**I was approved and professionally boarded by the PHS Environmental Health Board on April 30th, which means that I have one year to secure a federal position and receive my officer's commission (assuming I pass medical and security clearance). I spent most of the month of May seeing my optometrist, dentist, and OB/GYN, plus a dermatologist, a lab, my one-time therapist, and an urgent care clinic (for an EKG) in order to collect all of the necessary medical forms and paperwork. (Fun fact: I am not pregnant, HIV-positive, infected with STDs, or taking any drugs - but my HDL cholesterol is low and my LDL cholesterol is high. Pooh.) Approximately nine hundred dollars' worth of credit card debt later, medical clearance is pending, and I am still waiting on fingerprint cards. Meanwhile, the interviews with the VA and the Coast Guard are positions through which I could receive my commission.
Don't feel bad if you're confused; the sheer number of them confuse me, too. In fact, I have even had to re-schedule some of them because I have had scheduling conflicts. Scheduling conflicts. With job interviews. It's every job-seeker's dream...and yet, no jobs.
That's right, boys and girls - you can go on nine interviews and still have zero job offers. "But you have five more next week," you say. "Surely one of those will work out!" Which is, of course, what everyone said when I came back from being abroad and had five interviews lined up. Or after I had gone on four more, leading to a total of nine. I understand that, objectively speaking, my odds continue to improve, but I'm going to honest: my optimism (which typically runs low anyways) is beginning to run dry.
Trying to explain it all to people is nearly as exhausting as doing the interviews themselves. To avoid answering the same effing questions forty more times, I feel like I should just have one of those stupid town-hall meetings that politicians are so fond of holding now. That way, I can get everybody in one room and explain that:
While perhaps not a silver lining, this whole situation has amused me in an ironic sort of way - in that I am now beyond grateful that Joel and I are currently childless when, less than a year ago, I was waxing poetic on how nice it would be to be able to start a family in the near future. I saw an article on Facebook the other day, Ramona at Forty, that really drove the point home:
And then I feel like a selfish asshole.
But who knows! By the end of next week, I might have a third interview (yes, that non-profit requires a third interview before they make a job offer) or even a job...though it might be in Norfolk, Virginia.
Your guess is as good as mine.
After all, it's not like I've been idle this whole time. As you can tell from the title of this post, I've been on an astounding number of interviews and applied for public assistance in the meantime. I apply for five to ten jobs per day - and they're all jobs I am well-qualified to do. I've been working out and training for my PHS physical fitness test that I would love to take, once I can secure a federal job. Joel and I contribute to my mother's household; I clean and he cooks delicious meals (as he is wont to do). I network, I follow up on interviews by e-mail, I am gracious when turned down and immediately available if I have to drive two hours to Austin for an interview tomorrow (which actually happened about two weeks ago). But most of all, I pray - rosaries, novenas, chaplets, and Masses - that I find something, anything, that will allow us to have a space and a life of our own.
Still, nothing.
It's certainly not for lack of trying. I suspect I am on the verge of setting some kind of record for number of interviews; just take a gander at them so far:
| Date | Type | Employer | Position | Sector | Result |
| April 23 (W) | In-Person | HHSC (Austin) | Program Specialist V Strategic Decision Support | State Gov't | Pending* |
| April 29 (T) | In-Person | City of Austin | Public Health Program Specialist Tuberculosis | Local Gov't | Rejected |
| April 30 (W) | Phone | US Public Health Service Commissioned Corps | Commissioned Corps Officer | Federal Gov't | Approved: Professionally Boarded** |
| May 1 (R) | In-Person | DSHS (Austin) | Epidemiologist III Environmental Epi | State Gov't | Rejected |
| May 1 (R) | In-Person | DSHS (Austin) | Program Specialist III EMS/Trauma | State Gov't | Rejected |
| May 12 (M) | In-Person | DSHS (San Antonio) | Epidemiologist II HIV/STD/TB | State Gov't | Pending |
| May 29 (R) | Phone | Texans Standing Tall (Austin) | Program Coordinator Tobacco Prevention Community Coalitions | Non-Profit | Advanced to Second Interview |
| June 2 (M) | In-Person | DSHS (Austin) | Program Specialist V Medicaid | State Gov't | Rejected |
| June 5 (R) | Phone | Texans Standing Tall (Austin) | Program Coordinator Tobacco Prevention Community Coalitions | Non-Profit | Pending |
| June 23 (M) | Phone | Veteran's Health Admin. (Baltimore) | Health Science Specialist** Research Compliance | Federal Gov't | Next Week |
| June 23 (M) | Phone | DSHS (Houston) | Program Specialist III Regional Tobacco Coordinator | State Gov't | Next Week |
| June 23 (M) | In-Person | DSHS (Austin) | Program Specialist IV Emergency Preparedness | State Gov't | Next Week |
| June 24 (M) | In-Person | DSHS (Austin) | Program Specialist IV Healthcare Facility Data Collection | State Gov't | Next Week |
| June 26 (R) | Phone | US Coast Guard (Norfolk) | Environmental Health Officer** Vessel Safety and Sanitation | Federal Gov't | Next Week |
*Technically, this position is still pending - I followed up with them three weeks after my interview, and they said they were still deciding - but seeing as it's been over eight weeks and I've heard nothing (even though they explicitly said they would let me know either way), I have essentially given up on it.
**I was approved and professionally boarded by the PHS Environmental Health Board on April 30th, which means that I have one year to secure a federal position and receive my officer's commission (assuming I pass medical and security clearance). I spent most of the month of May seeing my optometrist, dentist, and OB/GYN, plus a dermatologist, a lab, my one-time therapist, and an urgent care clinic (for an EKG) in order to collect all of the necessary medical forms and paperwork. (Fun fact: I am not pregnant, HIV-positive, infected with STDs, or taking any drugs - but my HDL cholesterol is low and my LDL cholesterol is high. Pooh.) Approximately nine hundred dollars' worth of credit card debt later, medical clearance is pending, and I am still waiting on fingerprint cards. Meanwhile, the interviews with the VA and the Coast Guard are positions through which I could receive my commission.
Don't feel bad if you're confused; the sheer number of them confuse me, too. In fact, I have even had to re-schedule some of them because I have had scheduling conflicts. Scheduling conflicts. With job interviews. It's every job-seeker's dream...and yet, no jobs.
That's right, boys and girls - you can go on nine interviews and still have zero job offers. "But you have five more next week," you say. "Surely one of those will work out!" Which is, of course, what everyone said when I came back from being abroad and had five interviews lined up. Or after I had gone on four more, leading to a total of nine. I understand that, objectively speaking, my odds continue to improve, but I'm going to honest: my optimism (which typically runs low anyways) is beginning to run dry.
Trying to explain it all to people is nearly as exhausting as doing the interviews themselves. To avoid answering the same effing questions forty more times, I feel like I should just have one of those stupid town-hall meetings that politicians are so fond of holding now. That way, I can get everybody in one room and explain that:
- I can't take a low-paying secretary job until something better comes around (I've tried, and I'm overqualified);
- I've tried applying to temp agencies and they don't want me (again, probably because I'm overqualified);
- I can't just leave my Master's degree off my resume in hopes of getting the aforementioned administrative jobs (because my former job titles and work experience give my overqualification away);
- I can't pick up a wage job to make money in the meantime (because I am traveling for interviews, often on short notice, almost every week - and no employer will tolerate that);
- I can't get a job in occupational safety with the oil companies in Houston (because they require their safety compliance specialists to be qualified as engineers - I've checked);
- I will continue to go to Austin for interviews until I have an effing job ("How many more of those do you plan to do?");
- Yes, I am applying for jobs outside of Texas even though I will be away from Joel (because a job far away is better than no job); and
- No, I am not just "being negative" - these are legitimate challenges to my unique job search (because yes, I have been accused of that).
While perhaps not a silver lining, this whole situation has amused me in an ironic sort of way - in that I am now beyond grateful that Joel and I are currently childless when, less than a year ago, I was waxing poetic on how nice it would be to be able to start a family in the near future. I saw an article on Facebook the other day, Ramona at Forty, that really drove the point home:
Bit by bit we find out about all the jobs Mr. Quimby has held. In Beezus and Ramona, he has an unnamed position at Pacific Gas & Electric, and in Ramona and Her Father he loses his job in an office of a small moving and storage company, and everything appears to go downhill from there. For what feels like a painfully extended time (all of Ramona and Her Father), Mr. Quimby is standing in line at unemployment, waiting by the phone for interviews and job offers, and smoking. By the close of Ramona and Her Father, Mr. Quimby has finally secured a job as a checker at a grocery store chain with management potential. In other books, we’ll learn how much he hates his checker job — once again a concept which may not mean much to the kids for whom the books were written but one which resonates far too loudly for adults — and how he’ll leave that checker job to go back to art school and then get a teaching certificate while also working part-time at another hated job in a frozen foods warehouse.I've spent a lot of time over these weeks thinking about that stereotype - the man as unemployed breadwinner, often with the unenviable burden of supporting a family, desperately seeking work and gradually lowering his standards for the kind of job he'll accept, shamefully accepting public benefits and coming home to his wife who, equally frustrated, demands to know why he hasn't found something yet. Suddenly I understand how such men become sullen and bitter as their self-confidence erodes, and how they lash out at well-meaning friends and relatives who, while well-meaning, still manage to be insulting when they make (what they believe to be) helpful suggestions. I remember my father, a hard-working and well-qualified engineer, taking a job at a mine in Nevada and working as a grocery sacker when I was a baby. I remember my mother, after being turned down for public assistance during her divorce (despite having no job and two children), smiling at people who suggested that she "just get a job at McDonald's." I think of one of our groomsmen, who went through this exact situation and spent seven months looking for work when he and his wife were expecting their daughter (and who may in fact be smiling as he reads this). And I take comfort in the fact that, despite all my despair and frustration, at least Joel and I only have to take care of each other.
And then I feel like a selfish asshole.
But who knows! By the end of next week, I might have a third interview (yes, that non-profit requires a third interview before they make a job offer) or even a job...though it might be in Norfolk, Virginia.
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