Authors: Barbara Ehrenreich
Tags: #Political Economy, #White collar workers, #Communism & Socialism, #Labor & Industrial Relations, #Government, #Displaced workers, #Labor, #United States, #Job Hunting, #Economic Conditions, #Business & Economics, #Political Science, #General, #Free Enterprise, #Political Ideologies, #Careers
phase, where I can meet my fellow seekers, announce my Still, it's tempting to imagine turning my futile and increas-aspirations, and perhaps score a contact or two, which is after all the ingly messy efforts over to Jobfiler. Or maybe there's some low-whole point of being here. But Anna declares that it's time for a wage person in Bangalore who could be paid to do the
"testimony." A white-haired man in a turtleneck shirt and searching for me.
jacket launches into a half-hour-long account of his life with the Digressing from the notebook, Anna counsels us not to de-Lord. He had been at IBM for thirty years before moving to a smaller, spair over a perceived lack of skills, since "the average person has friskier, dotcom-type company, only to be laid off in 2001. It was a between eight and twelve skills," though she doesn't mention rough time; a lot of his friends didn't even get an interview for a what they may be. In my growing impatience, I want to ask year. Fortunately, the Lord intervened from time to time, whether eating with chopsticks counts as a skill, but no one is prompting him to take a job at Xerox, although at much reduced asking anything. My fellow seekers, insofar as I can see their faces pay. No matter, he threw himself into it, working twelve hours a without seeming inattentive to the lecture, wear the same dogged, day, seven days a week, which was fine until Xerox asked him to take passive expressions I've learned to associate with job seekers a further pay cut.
everywhere. Maybe the fear is that the slightest sign of The events so far would have led me to conclude that the Lord impertinence could lead someone in the group to withhold a was not paying close attention, but our speaker remained firm in his faith. He was praying with a friend one day when he got the I'm sorry, this is too much for me. I endured the Norcross feeling that the Lord wanted him to take an engineering job Fellowship Lunch as an atheist, but now, at the Mt. Paran that he had applied for. He knew the Lord was with him at Church of God, I discover I am a believer, and what I believe is this point because when an occasion for sin arose, he was able this: if the Lord exists, if there is some conscious being whose to just say no, although this was the kind of thing he wouldn't have thought the universe is—some great spinner of galaxies, hurler of passed up in his less Christian past. Anyway, he got the meteors, creator and extinguisher of species—if some such being engineering job that he still holds. So the kicker is: "Never forget should manifest itself, you do not "network" with it any more than that the Lord can do something that can dramatically change you would light a cigarette on the burning bush. Francois is guilty your situation."
of blasphemy. He has demeaned the universe as I know it.
At this point it's after eight and I am decidedly hungry. I'm I rise to my feet and gather up my papers, observed with considering an escape when a fellow named Francois takes alarm by the three women who are running things: Annie, over and demands that we all come and sit in a circle around Judy, and Anna. As I approach the door, Annie scurries over to him. This must be the point when the networking will take demand, "Is everything OK? Will you come back?" She walks place, and with so few people present, there should be plenty of with me to the stairs and even starts down them with me, opportunity for give-and-take. But no, he launches into what clutching at my elbow the whole time. "You should go to the I now recognize as Job Search 101: the need for an elevator Perimeter Mall Jobseekers' meeting tomorrow morning," she speech, a polished resume, and of course the need to network, insists; "Why, there are even recruiters who show up there." It's network, network. Networking is so central to life, he confides, that at Fuddruckers, she says, pronouncing that word very slowly, we should be taught how to do it in kindergarten and primary perhaps to forestall any scrambling of the consonants. "It starts at school. And who should be our first networking target? The seven thirty, and you can be out of there by ten, when the stores Lord.
open in the mall."
I LEA VE T H E church with every intention of skipping the riage fails, plunging him into depression. He marries again but Perimeter Mall meeting, since my Christian-job-search en-knows that he hasn't changed.
counters have led so far only to aversion, though "false pride" is Now things get vaguer and somewhat more complex. He probably the correct theological term. No contacts, no tips, no makes a friend, who is really smart and "takes an interest" in progress at all on the job-search front. But two things push me him. They argue a lot, to the point where his wife worries that he to the Perimeter Mall: first, Annie mentioned that I can get there might offend the friend. But it is this friend who introduces him to by MARTA, the commuter train system (there's a stop right the Bible: "I couldn't argue with the Bible. It just makes sense—next to the hotel), and, second, I wake up naturally at the ghastly good common sense."
hour of 4:45 A.M. There is no excuse.
I try, and fail, to think of what parts of the Bible can be rea-When I enter the restaurant at 7:32, a speaker has already sonably accused of making "good common sense." Perhaps our begun. Around forty people sit around at little tables sur-speaker is referring to some alternative Bible that has been purged rounding the makeshift lectern—the usual mostly white, al-of miraculous content for easier consumption by the business most all-male group. Since our speaker is a lawyer, he leads off community, because it is not, as far as I know, the business of with lawyer jokes: What's the difference between a dead dog religion to "make sense." Now he digresses into the story of on the freeway and a dead lawyer? There are skid marks in Daniel, whom "God took an interest in and got involved in his front of the dog. A fiftyish man in business casual—this is, after life." If God could do things for Daniel, our speaker all, Friday—is introduced to give us another "testimony," this concluded that maybe he could help him too. "The concept that one going all the way back to childhood. He attests to having God might be interested in giving me a free gift just dawned on had loving parents, "but there was not much personal relame, and I'm always interested in something free."
tionships or communication" in his natal home. Hence, after Unfortunately for the audience, no striking transformation sports, college, meeting a nice girl, et cetera, et cetera, his mar-occurs, no blinding revelation. The narration continues in what appears to be real time—how he prays, argues with his What we want from a career narrative is some moral thrust, some friend some more, always hoping for a freebie from God. Fi-meaningful story we can, as Sennett suggests, tell our children.
nally, our testifier winds up with the good news that, thanks to The old narrative was "I worked hard and therefore succeeded" or his spiritual awakening, he is now "able to have relationships"
sometimes "I screwed up and therefore failed." But a life of only and remains married to his second wife.
intermittently rewarded effort—working hard only to be laid In the testimonies I have heard so far at Christian gatherings, off, and then repeating the process until aging forecloses decent God is always busily micromanaging every career and personal job offers—requires more strenuous forms of explanation.
move: advising which jobs to pursue, even causing important e-Either you look for the institutional forces shaping your life, or mails to be sent. In one conversation, a job seeker implied to me you attribute the unpredictable ups and downs of your career to an that God had intervened to prevent him from selling his infinitely powerful, endlessly detail-oriented God.
house; at least he took the house's failure to sell as "a sign."
The crowd has doubled in size by this time; maybe the newcomers Thus everything happens "for a reason," even if it is not imme-knew enough to avoid the testimony. Some of the new people are diately apparent, and presumably a benevolent one. This vi-women, even a few women of color—all of them done up in their sion of a perpetually meddling deity satisfies what Richard corporate best, heavy on the red. After a musical flourish Sennett calls the need for a "narrative" to explain one's life.
supplied by computer, the moderator gives a brief spiel about Narratives, he writes,
the need for a relationship with Jesus Christ, and several volunteers rush around from table to table passing out pocket-size are more than simple chronicles of events; they give shape to the forward versions of the New Testament including psalms and movement of time, suggesting reasons why things happen, showing their consequences . . . [But] a world marked . . . by short-term flexibility and flux proverbs. We are now to go into our "breakout groups" in
. . . does not offer much, economically or socially, by way of narrative.
42
various corners of the room, according to whether we are interested in "how clutter can be an obstacle to God's grace,"
42 Sennett,
The Corrosion of Character,
p.30.
"finding peace and bliss," or "God's way to a successful life." Of who was called to the ministry and succeeded brilliantly by course I should go to "clutter," I say laughingly to my creating his own special telephone ministry. Jack isn't much to look tablemates, three extremely glum middle-aged men, but none at himself—short and pudgy—but the point is that, with the of them rewards me with a smile.
telephone ministry, people don't have to look at this crippled Clutter turns out to be the most popular breakout group, so I guy, whose deformities are "distracting." If there is a message move on to "successful life," led by the Reverend Jack Pilger, where here for disabled job seekers, it is not an entirely encouraging one.
at least I can find a seat. I attempt a networking-type smile at Meanwhile, a possible networking target arrives. A young Asian-my new tablemate, Pat, but its only effect is to make him get up American, identified on his name card as "Tom It," takes the from the table and dash off. He returns in a minute, though, with a seat next to me, smiles, and extends his hand. We exchange copy of the handout for me, the famous passage from Corinthians whispered introductions, in which I learn that his surname is on love, with the stirring line: "And if I have prophetic powers, Chang and "It" is for IT. While Jack continues on the theme of excellence, Tom busily scribbles in the margins of his handout and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all containing the Corinthians passage. I can see that he's a tidy-faith, so as to .remove mountains, but have not love, I am minded, IT-type of fellow, since he has drawn a circle enclosing nothing." Maybe it was a successful smile after all.
the word
You
and another around
God,
with arrows connecting the The Reverend Jack calls one of the job seekers up to read the circles in both directions. Suddenly, he leans over and stares at Corinthians text aloud for us, and invites us to renew our vows the protein bar I am nibbling on: "How many of those can you at his church this Sunday. I am hoping for more on love, perhaps eat in a day?" he whispers. I point out the calorie content to him, an elucidation of the mysterious and beautiful part on how you which is 220, and suggest maybe up to ten. "So," he asks, "it's the can throw your body into the flames and have it count for nothing amount of calories that determines it?"
if you do not love, but Jack wants to talk about ((excellence,"
Now, between the calories and the Corinthians, I am com-which is illustrated by the story of a completely crippled man pletely confused. But Tom and I exchange cards and agree to has been discussing gay marriage this week. The moderator joins in share any relevant contacts that should come our way. Now it's the laughter, saying, "I've done worse. I used to live on a farm."
almost 9:00 A.M. and time to reassemble in the main space, General laughter at this—what?—proud assertion of bes-where I notice Laimon Godel, who has perhaps been here all tiality? I glance over at a somewhat effeminate man at a neigh-along, operating the computer that produces the musical boring table who had caught my attention earlier with his flourishes.
flamboyant—given the setting—outfit of black leather jacket, high We newcomers get to say a few words apiece, just our white turtleneck, and slim-cut black jeans. He has a thin, strained names and what kinds of jobs we're looking for, so I learn I've smile on his face.
been among account managers, systems architects, financial After a final blessing I make my way across the room to a fa-service providers, systems testers, and other people whose miliar face. It's Ken, the quiet guy from Patrick Knowles's boot daily tasks I can only foggily imagine. The introductions go on camp, and he sort of recognizes me too. I tell him I've seen and on, with perhaps eighty people in all standing to announce their Patrick since the boot camp and that he doesn't seem to be doing professions.
too well. "He can be his own worst enemy," Ken responds In this, the final half hour, a carnival mood sets in. The complacently. "I mean, he's brilliant, but . . ."
moderator is presiding over the dispensation of job tips, al-How's his search going? Ken says he's got a job and is starting most all of which deal with IT, and Laimon is embellishing Monday. So why is he here today? To thank some people, say them with sound effects—trumpet blasts, honking noises, good-bye. I tell him I kind of resent all the religion at this event.
canned laughter—to the apparent delight of the men who are
"It's fine with me," he says. "I'm religious myself."
running the meeting from the front of the room. At some point
"So where will you be working?" I ask.
the word
Massachusetts
comes up, as a job location, and elicits a
"At my old place, where I got laid off a year ago."
hearty laugh, I suppose because the Massachusetts state legislature
"How do you feel about going back there? I mean after they laid you off."
ica," he advises. "They have a group for PR people in transition."