I’ve hardly written my unemployment thoughts over the last few weeks. I haven’t had time. I’ve been busy trying to create new ways for me to earn money. I’ve been working very hard. Every day. I still haven’t earned anything…but I haven’t given up yet and every day I get up and ‘go to work.’
I have thought a lot about my unemployment. And now, everyone else’s. Months ago, I sent an email to several friends and family members, trying to get them to acknowledge that we were in hard economic times. That it wasn’t ‘just me’ – being lazy, stupid, not trying hard enough. My brother had sent me a brief article about the shrinking legal market in California. I sent my loved ones the article with my own message noting that these were difficult economic times, just as I’d been trying to tell them for months. Since I lost my job, most people acted like I had done something wrong to have gotten laid off. That I was continuing to do something wrong by not finding a replacement job lickety split. I knew it wasn’t me – I make enough errors, which I generally freely admit. But this wasn’t one of them. Still, I had to swallow the condemnation that came my way. So I sent that article, hoping for some acknowledgement and empathy. I didn’t hear from my friends or my parents or aunts or uncles or boyfriend. The only one who emailed me was my disabled sister, who gave me a pep talk….
And now, now times have changed. Everyone knows we’re in a bad economic state. It has become almost hip to know someone who has been brutally affected by the economy. (Still most people I know have managed to retain their jobs and their empathy is something like the empathy they feel for orphaned children in Darfur…better than nothing, but in the end, rather hollow.) Yesterday I called the Berkeley City Club to see if there might be some way I could use their pool. My knees have totally gone bad and I’m trying not to run. As I was working, (diligently trying to find ways of earning that elusive dollar), I could see people running by out my window and I ached to join them. It was then I called the pool. The young man who answered the phone was very sweet but also emphatic, “No. The only way you can swim here is if you are a member or if you know someone who is.” (I seriously contemplated sending a mass email to my local address book to see if anyone has a membership….) “Okay,” I told him, “I’m unemployed and have three kids, so this isn’t really an option, but if it were, how much does it cost to join?” The answer was way above any budget that I might have with my non-existent salary. “Oh well,” I said, “maybe one day I’ll earn enough to come swim there….” This receptionist at the Berkeley City Club responded, “I’m sorry about your unemployment,” (and his voice sounded like he was sorry), “but did you see the news earlier this week? Maybe some of that will help you.” I thanked him, sincerely, and hung up. Last year, that conversation would not have happened, but now, now people are hip to the fact that good, hardworking people are unemployed and it might not be their fault….
