I ended 2013 hoping I would start 2014 with a full time reporting job. I successfully made it through two rounds of consideration, including one interview and was invited to partake in a final interview process for a local blog. It was not an exact fit. It was writing about an area that I will admit and admitted I need to learn more about (transportation issues) but I was eager to learn and even more eager to have a full time job.
After the final interview I felt discouraged. I had enough experience but maybe not the right experience. I looked at my fellow candidates, all men who could be read as white and felt notably “unhip” compared to them. I also was pretty sure the job wasn’t a good fit for me.
When I received the email telling me they went in another direction, I wasn’t surprised but I was saddened. I didn’t have any other major prospects looming but I certainly had bills looming. I deconstructed the email. The job was given to someone who had been part of the organization in the past and someone they felt was capable of “handling the writing load”. Was it nepotism? Did they think I couldn’t handle the workload? I wasn’t just saddened anymore. I was downright depressed about it. I cried. I questioned my ability. I worried. I still worry.
It wasn’t a complete loss. I was offered a freelance role with the organization, which I gladly accepted. I meditated. I prayed. I spoke to my spiritual advisor about it who encouraged me to look back at my history of writing and push forward with my own writing projects I have left on the backburner because of fear. Fear of what? Fear of not being good enough. Fear of showing my ass. Fears based on past traumas that actually have little to do with my current status, talent, skill and experience. I was talked through my scripts of self-doubt and letting them go.
I’m not exactly satisfied. I don’t like the idea put forward by my advisor and put forward often by my partner if doing work outside of my passion, writing. Been there, done that and I resent it. I remember how much I hate retail and wonder what else can a returning full time college student can do while maintaining my passion and taking care of my family.
But I push forward. I’m looking back at my writing. I originally thought that doing so would lead me to write about mami’hood – experiences as a single activist mother of color and was surprised by the fact that is not what drew me in. What drew me in were stories about my intimate relationships with others so I’m going to follow that thread and train of thought for now.
I push forward. My full time semester is coming along with the workload. I push forward with transfer applications to a four-year college. I’m struggling though with what to do next for money though as I watch my bank account balance dwindle.