What I Learned From Losing My Job
illustration by Greg Chinn for Outer Voice
I’m not unique in this, just one of some 38.6 million people (that’s 1 in 4 of us) in the U.S. who have lost their jobs since March. I’m also better off than many, and I’ll talk about that here.
But I am human, and unexpectedly losing your employment in any situation — particularly during an international health and economic crisis — can be a catastrophe or a catalyst.
For me, it was both.
I led a team at an experiential design firm. It was a good “career” job — a director position with room to grow. Just before lunch on March 25, I finished a call with my right-hand man and got the call from my boss … with HR also on the line.
All I remember after “we’re going to have to let you go,” was a loud buzzing in my ears. I stumbled through “yes” and “no” as they explained that my health insurance would be ending in six days.
Six days. In a pandemic.
And then it was over.
After experiencing the stages of grief (I got stuck on anger for a long time), it was time to reevaluate, regroup, and restart. Freelance work was taken up anew and Outer Voice was born.
As of this writing, it’s been just under nine weeks since I lost that job. That’s a short period in the relatively long calendar of a life. Here’s what I’ve learned so far.
I’m Privileged
As a middle-class white straight male in the United States, this isn’t exactly a revelatory statement. But, the past two months have cast this in stronger relief for me.
In a conversation with Marlos E’van, he mentioned a woman he knows in North Nashville who lived without electricity for four years. Four years. And I threw a tantrum when I had no power for four days.
I lost my health insurance six days after my job, but my wife has health insurance until the end of July, and I joined that. We have a modest but existing savings account. I have a little freelance work. I have options. I’m healthy. I have food security, friends and family.
This is not the case for millions upon millions of people. Does that knowledge lessen my anxiety over my personal situation or pay my bills? No.
Does it increase my empathy, humility, and impulse to look outward rather than inward? Yes.
Outer Voice has quickly found community to be a central element to everything. It’s time for me to look at my community and see how I can be a better contributor. I can do what I can to make things better for as many people as I can. I can take a seat to let other people express what they need to express and get what they need to get.
It’s Time to Reclaim Slowness
Over the past several years of working in the corporate creative world, I’d amassed a battery of coping strategies for anxiety and stress: Lexapro, SAM-E, CBD oil, meditation, mindfulness, crying … you know the drill.
While understanding that (in my case) medication and meditation are crucial to my mental health, I also quickly came to see that the speed at which I’d been living my life was detrimental not only to my mind, but also my relationships.
Constant travel, the pressure for profit, incessant interruptions, the compromises that gradually began to chip away at my values — these were taken away with one phone call.
What rushed in to fill the vacuum? Fear and anger, sure. But also time. Lunch with my family. Walks with my wife. Long conversations with my father. Room to breathe. Time to read all those things I’d taken up and then lost track of.
In that space, I recaptured the importance of time, of breathing room, of slowness. I asked myself where all the rushing got me.
What did I gain of long-term value at that job? New friends, close connections with clients, new knowledge and skill sets… none of those were the result of a preoccupation with productivity, speed or profit. They were the results of deep, conscientious work.
The job wasn’t at fault, the mindset was. What have we gained from our time-saving creations? Certainly not more time to be human.
Bowing to a breakneck pace doesn’t make you better or more valuable. It certainly doesn’t make you more valued by your boss.
No matter how loyal your boss is, they are more loyal to profit. That’s not a condemnation; it’s a fact created by the system we’ve all had a hand in building.
You must be loyal to your humanity.
Don’t save living for PTO days. And don’t spend your PTO days answering emails.
I’m Capable of More than I Thought
Eight weeks ago, Outer Voice didn’t exist.
The idea came to me on a walk with my wife, sometime in the first week of April.
By May 1, we had a name, website, branding (thanks to Brad Jones), illustrations (thanks to Greg Chinn), funding for expenses (thanks to the Not-So-Secret Society), and an inaugural issue with four articles and 200 subscribers.
How? Well, I busted my ass.
But also, because …
I’m Not Alone
In the hours and days after I lost my job, I was amazed by the number of former co-workers who reached out. My wife and daughter, family, friends and colleagues made everything here possible.
Also, I’m not alone in my situation. You might be reading this because you lost your job. There are millions of us, and we’re all coping the best we can and dealing with the pandemic, loneliness, frustration, anxiety and the ever-looming dollar however we can.
You know what groups of people in the same situation can create? Movements.
Can we create a movement that values people over profit? Slowness over speed?
Can we join together and focus on the inherent value in people, the beauty in work done with purpose and that humanness that connects us all?
Damn straight, we can.
Need help defining your voice or reaching your audience? Give me a shout. I offer consulting and services for all kinds of individual artists and arts organizations.
