August 23, 2011.
There was an earthquake. Both a literal one, with tremors being felt up and down the Atlantic seaboard, and a figurative one – the day my professional and personal lives were shaken up, quite a bit.
It was a Tuesday, my last day at the Big Half Dozen. <Cliché alert> It had started like any other day. I came in a bit before 7:00am, put my lunch in the break room fridge, and slid into my desk chair to catch the end of the competing stations’ early shows. By the end of the day, though, I’d have gone through so many emotions – shock, anger, disbelief and elation – I was literally drained.
Just four days prior, at a going-away for a friend, a reporter at the station, I’d commented to several people that I was surprised I hadn’t been let go that day, since it was a Friday and all. I knew the ax was falling, and I knew it was going to be soon. I’d told another co-worker that if I was still around on September 1st, I’d be surprised. But it wasn’t on me – I gave that place everything I had for the 6+ years I was there. Recent changes in management had tried to re-organize workflow at the station, and the sheer volume of tasks now assigned to my department (which was 5-6 people but had dwindled to 2) was outlandish, comical even. And the station was moving towards, faster, younger, cheaper (notice I didn’t say better), so I felt a bit railroaded.
Flash forward to now, when the three people I believe had a part in me being let go have been canned, including an exec who isn’t allowed in the building any more. A couple of weeks ago, I got a call from the current head honcho, was more or less apologized to, and offered a lesser position, which I did not take. That place wasn’t all bad, it should be noted. The non-management types are some of the hardest-working people I’ve ever known, who have dealt with change after change after change. May they all move on to bigger and better things. Several have.
Anyways, I suddenly found myself free of a miserable job, free of a ridiculous working environment, and, notably, free of a steady income. Not the best place to be with a mortgage and a 4 month-old son. While I was confident unemployment would come through, I knew that could only be a temporary crutch, and it wouldn’t be the same $$ as I was making previous. So the job search started. I insisted I was done with news, and would do anything else. My chief concern was that the $$ was about the same, so as not to have to dramatically change the way things were going at home.
Many times, I’ve seen reporters who leave a newsroom make the change to communications, or public relations. It was a field I thought I could pull off, since I’d worked with such people for years in my previous job, and knew how the media worked. It seemed like the natural place to go for something new. That’s not to say it was the only kind of job I was open to – anything was on the table, really. When the day came to get the yes or no on my unemployment, I was ready to run right out and apply to be a cook at Five Guys in Seekonk. They were hiring, and my time at the Ram’s Den at URI was the most fun I’ve had at a job.
Over the coming weeks, I applied to several companies, all for communications/public relations/social media jobs, each providing new challenges. I won’t name them here, but they are certainly ones you’d recognize. I had interviews at each, sometimes second interviews, that I felt all went well. Each time I’d leave an interview, I felt confident I’d gotten the job. All that was left was to wait for the congratulations phone call.
Those calls never came. What came were the ‘thanks for your time’ e-mails. Each rejection stung a bit more, since this was really the first time I’d had to fight for a job. My previous employment had started with an internship at URI, and from there, I fought, and climbed the ladder, to get to where I was. Now, my hopes were being dashed on a larger scale, and my mind would run with it. After the third notable ‘no’, one which I was sure I was a shoe-in for (I’d worked directly with the employers for years, knew their industry well, and even had the endorsement of the person leaving and freeing up the position), it’d really started to hurt (pardon the talk of feelings). I started to wonder what I really had going for me. I second-guessed my choice of major, my career up to that point, everything. I wondered if I’d just made one huge series of mistakes, which were catching up with me at the worst time.
Beyond the professional world, my life at home was being affected. Not hindered, not handicapped, just changed. While I was happy to be able to spend so much time with Declan, I knew that couldn’t go on forever. And I figured there was some stress put on Alissa, being the main breadwinner. And I certainly don’t like to stress anyone out. That’s not my style.
Then, about a month ago, I came to a realization. Something that changed my perspective, and gave me some hope. The reason I’d felt so adamant to get out of news was the experience I’d had at my former job. I was so poisoned by the situation there – many times, it’d felt like I’d lost the day before it even started. I could work non-stop the entire 9+ hours I was there each day, and it would never be good enough. I can’t speak for the other person I worked with at the Assignment Desk, but I felt a bit like a punching bag for the management. I felt like I was the vacuum for all the ridiculousness and unrealistic expectations flowing through that place. It seemed to me like that was the standard for the business, so I just wanted out.
I know that’s not the case, now. I have friends at one of the other stations who’ve told me that, and I saw it for myself when I interviewed at another. I’m now confident that I have the skills, experience, and work ethic to benefit either place, from day one. Sure, I have a preference, but at this point, I’ll take what I can get. I’m ready to get back to news, which, as I’ve been told before, it what I’m best at.
So we’ll see how it goes from here. I’m cautiously optimistic that I’ll be back to work within a few weeks. Then, things will start getting back to normal again. My unemployment credit, at least the initial 26 weeks, is coming to a close, and I’d really like to not have to seek help beyond that. I’m not the type to lean on charity, especially when the means for me to not have to exist.
– Bryan
