How to get a job.

Here are five easy steps to quickly finding a job here in Bismarck, North Dakota.

1. Do not be me.

(pause.)

I know I said “five” steps. It’s mainly just that one. I very much want to provide you with four other steps, but I simply don’t know what to tell you.

The reality check of having an art degree has visited me regularly over the years. I have always maintained that my education has provided me with flexibility. It taught me to take criticism, think creatively, and cut mat board. This is a fine theory, but life has proven to be more than theoretical. What is necessary now, apparently, is to merely be able to run Microsoft Office products.

Starting the new year emptying out my emergency stash cash hoard and taking every last coin I’ve saved to the bank just to make it through January was not exactly the way I thought I’d ring in my 36th birthday. You may find this hard to believe, but I had imagined even just a smidgen more financial success by now, back in my halcyon days of art school.

My halcyon days of art school were, I want to point out, four years in the making and ten years in the repaying.

I received a suggestion to sign up for various financial help and planning classes. While appreciative of such concerns, these classes are of little help to someone who doesn’t have a debt issue, isn’t spending like crazy, and can’t even afford the price tag these classes come with. My main problem is cash flow.

So, now coinless and cashless, I decided to either find a second job or, if it should happen, a new “normal” job once and for all.

I scoured multiple sources to locate available jobs. North Dakota has, according to recent news reports, the best economy in the nation. Unemployment was low. We are rolling in relative financial security, supposedly. I hoped for the best and began compiling available jobs.

Mainly, I wanted a job in an office.

I’d done the night-shift-warehouse work (post office sorting facility), teaching (public school), creative service industry (graphic design/T-shirt shop), stringer (per-article reporter for a newspaper), freelance (my own business of art and writing), retail, and the general service industry (food, coffee, etc.). The last office job I had, in fact, was back in college. I worked two summers in a crop insurance department which required me to take a timed math test in order to get the job initially. I’d done the night-shift, the six-day week, the summer-off, the day-job-and-second-job-night-shift, the sporadic, the seasonal…I was looking for something Monday through Friday, normal business hours, regular paycheck, nothing retail or selling — I just want to be able to put aside money and rebuild my savings.

For some reason, in this type of work, I am not hireable. I do not know why.

I applied for job after job here in Bismarck. Office assistant, receptionist, clerical — it wasn’t as if I was applying for an engineering position. These were jobs that I could fully do. If there was such a job available, chances are I applied for it. I revamped my resume after the first round of rejections, eventually trying out every format that highlighted skills and projects and achievements and education. I made note of computer skills, community work, volunteer projects…

No go.

I didn’t understand why I didn’t at least get an inquiry. Where I currently work, I see people who work in offices come in and have difficulty making sense of our menu board and ordering a sandwich without help. We have been asked to describe what hazelnut-raspberry tea “tasted like” or if the creamy vegetable soup had cream in it. In fits of exasperation and anger, I think that surely I could compete with this pool of workers.

I revamped my resume.

I highlighted my skills in communication and management of content and documents, and the various projects and positions which called for me to act in an office setting. I highlighted the software I knew, my familiarity with concepts (cloud computing, social networking, etc.), networks, and various hardware. I made note of my time-management skills and ability to stay on task as a micro-business owner is required to.

Still a no go.

I revamped it, trimmed it down, and included a few of my outside interests, such as musical instruments and being a private pilot. I thought these might show that I was well-rounded and capable.

Nope.

Except for one instance, which involved an excessive and bizarre use of reprimanding yellow post-it notes, I don’t think you’d find an employer who would say anything negative about me. I’m a good worker: capable, honest and responsible.

Today’s rejection letter included a line which said that although I didn’t get the position, they were thrilled that I was so interested in their company. Kindly included was a link to their web site where I could follow what the company was doing locally.

Seriously?

A friend told me I was,  in a sense, over-qualified while being under-qualified. I didn’t have the necessary paperwork (degree) that said I was qualified, but the entire collection of things I’ve done and could do was too much for the positions I was applying for.

Pray tell, what is the solution to that? I’m not a genius or someone astounding or the best thing ever; I just want to find a job and do good work.

I admit I have a difficult time with this; it is a blow to the ego as well as a continual source of confusion. I find myself teaching classes on blogging and computers and social networking in which employees of various companies attend, yet I know that if I attempted to get a job at those same companies, I probably wouldn’t be hired to change out the garbage cans.

While wiping up a coffee spill on the floor a few months ago, I overheard a group of office workers discussing a problem they were having in getting information out on their website in a timely manner; they were, apparently, still hand-coding each page as HTML. There I was, mopping up java, and I knew exactly what I would suggest if I were in on the meeting. I knew exactly what sites and methods I’d use, and I’d be able to set it up.

Instead, one woman asked me for another napkin, since I was already over there.

Turnabout is fair play. The week after receiving rejection letter number three from a media company here in town, I was hit up with an advertising sales pitch for my business from the same company. I politely, but firmly, declined. I know that people have fantasies about a lot of things, but mine are simple: I’ll become hugely successful and make sure I never frequent the businesses that rejected me. Sort of a Pretty Woman moment, if you will. As in, the Vikings will make it to the Super Bowl before I support your business.

Sadly, it is unlikely that I will become successful to this degree. Such a desire to stick it to those who rejected me for a job is an element of pride, which I’ll touch on in a bit.

It’s a lie, you know, what we tell kids.

It doesn’t matter that I graduated with honors, that I always got good grades, that I “applied myself” to my school work, that I took more than just “easy” art classes in college. It doesn’t matter that I “never stop learning.” It doesn’t matter if I volunteer or contribute to the community. It doesn’t matter that I’m honest and don’t lie on my resume. It doesn’t matter what I’ve taught myself about computing over the years. It doesn’t matter what I can do. All that matters, apparently, is that my resume doesn’t say two simple things:

1. I  have a degree in office administration (or whatever).
2. I know how to run Microsoft Office products.

Because of this, I am not fit to sit at desk or file papers. I am, instead, useful for wiping up coffee spills, fetching napkins, and standing behind a counter in an apron or visor. I might as well be living in a van down by the river.

It could be seen as humorous.

Our jobs don’t define us…

At least, writing about it is. “Here is Julie, who loves to talk about Fifth Century Greek Art and can fly a plane and enjoyed reading Kierkegaard. She’ll take your food order now.” Our jobs don’t define us, certainly; I’ve always held onto that and tried to remember that when I’m the customer. The person behind the counter is not just their job. But receiving rejection letter after rejection letter and trying to find ways to earn money and cut expenses that you can’t cut anymore is less laughable, and sometimes hard to take. It doesn’t help to maintain personal dignity and tell yourself you’re more than the uniform or how people treat you because of that uniform when you’re staring at a checkbook balance that’s a bit tight. It doesn’t always help to tell myself that I’m an interesting enough person who can hold her own when someone is griping at me to get them more butter or talking to me with disdain in their voice because I didn’t get their order quickly enough. I still have a roof over my head and shoes to wear, though, so I’m doing OK.

It comes down to, it seems, a matter of pride. Out of all the things I’ve baked, served, and eaten, humble pie is the most bitter. I will have to make my own job, it seems, and my own success out of it somehow. No one else will take a chance on me, so I must take a chance on myself.

This is about the fifth time I’ve written such a post over the nine years of this blog. God keeps us humble in many ways, repeatedly.

UPDATE: My friend is now looking for a job in town. Her qualifications for any such job are over the top, yet she is experiencing the same thing I did. In frustration, I Tweet for her.