This Is The End, Beautiful Friend

I have a job!!!! Ha ha, never did I think I would utter those sweet, sweet words of glory. I am now a Production Assistant at the very prestigious Bloomsbury Publishing in their Academic Department. If you don't know Bloomsbury, you should - they were the clever people who published Harry Potter. I will however, be working less with Muggles, Witches and Wizards and more with revolutions, wars and philosophies. This is certainly the end of monotonous job searches and cover letters and CVs and bitter bitter rejection. Hooray! It has taken me around 8 months of searching, over 40 jobs applied to, less than half of those replied to, over 100 tiring waitressing shifts, 5 nerve-racking interviews and 4 work experience placements with great companies.

Reactions to my news varied from people streaming tears down their face and jumping up and down on the spot for about five minutes to a simple 'wow that's great....but what about the blog?' Aah the selfish human mind - always looking to get something for itself out of a situation. I am, of course, joking and never fret, this is not the end of our beautiful relationship dear readers (even if some of you were dying to get rid of me!).

I did contemplate ending it all here, signing off in a dramatic statement of typed words flooding the internet with their poignancy. After all, I can't write anything bad about the new job (not that I think I'll need to) for fear of being fired before I've even taken off, and let's face it... who really wants to read about how well someone is doing and how happy they are? People want to to see how miserable and stressed everyone else is so that they don't feel like a total failure themselves. I know I do. It seems however, that there is still a lot to be written about the graduate experience and the terrible job market we are in at the moment.

I don't claim to be a bearer of all knowledge on the subject but I do think that if I can offer up some advice or just a little bit of courage to anyone about to graduate or looking for a job, then this blog still has a semblance of a life. I still feel angry about the way many of my job applications were handled. I still believe that universities don't offer up enough practical advice about entering into a weak labour market. And I still believe that we need to shift the blame from jobless graduates who are labelled lazy or stuck-up and take a deeper look at what is really holding them back.

In September of 2011, I was one of thousands of graduates unable to find a job that used the skills I gained at university. With the 2012 graduates about the join us, it looks set to get even more difficult. Here's my message of hope however - If I can do it so can you. And until that point, we shall both keep fighting the objects that stand in the way. I'm on your side - job or no job.  

  

The Luck of the Draw

I don't know whether I was green with envy or just plain sick but the number of high end designer coats I handled yesterday was insane. It was Dolce & Gabanna after Prada after Burberry, and so much fur; god knows how many dead animals I hung on a coat hanger. What did I expect when I was the coat check girl for a very very expensive jewellery shop on New Bond Street? When I say expensive, I mean some of those jewels would have bought several houses.

While a few of the clientèle were almost ridiculous - botoxed faces that looked like masks and 40 year old bodies pushed into see-through black dresses - the owner of the shop was actually quite normal. Once they had discovered I was more than just a waitress (actually we are all always, more than just waitresses) they told me about how their son had just graduated from Manchester (ha...Nottingham is better!) and was going to be in the same situation as me soon.

Well, this got me thinking... is he actually going to have to face the same obstacles as me? His parents own a spectacular diamond shop and they know countless extremely wealthy and connected people. A reader of this humble little blog recently stressed to me how much luck comes into the equation. They wrote

'Even the work ethic required to complete a law or medical degree is established by a certain amount of luck. Lucky to have nurturing parents, lucky to have wealth (for most), lucky to have the correct set of genes to use a certain side of the brain, lucky to be taught from an early age how to manage time. With 7 billion people on earth, there's more pressure than ever to be perfect' 


Well it seems that my luck has dried up, or at least it's in drought. I was lucky enough to have parents who gave me decent enough genes to do well at my education, pushed me to take on lots of extra curricular activities and who taught me how to communicate well. Certainly there are people born into far unluckier circumstances than myself.

I'm not the kind of person however, who wishes to leave it all up to luck. While several factors are playing in my favour in the 'rat race' I also believe that most of my good fortune has come about through sheer hard work. The luckiest person in the world wouldn't get the job of their dreams without at least trying.

Well here's a test for you life... I recently had a very exciting interview at Bloomsbury publishing for my ideal role in their academic division. It went really well - the interviewer seemed to like me, I answered the questions naturally and comprehensively. I left feeling good about it but I was only the second interviewee and they had several other candidates to see after me. I'll know if I got the job by tomorrow.  Come on luck, open the flood barriers again and pour your glorious water all over me because this drought is starting to slowly suck the life out of me.

Selling My Soul

Hold the press! The kindly people from the JobCentre have revoked their decision to offer me absolutely no money at all while I search diligently for a job and have instead decided to award me the incomprehensible sum of 88p per week.

While it is awfully kind of them to reconsider my economic position in society all the way from their offices in Scotland, this now means that I have to provide proof of my job searching activities and go to the JobCentre every other week to sign on in order to claim my 88p. I'm going to say it again out of sheer disbelief.... 88p.

Please, please keep your money and preferably shove it somewhere unmentionable. Or at least give it to a more useful, less time-wasting cause. This is absolute bureaucracy gone mad and I refuse to participate in it. All it means is that I am now the government's female dog and must adhere to their ridiculous laws in order to get my bone... and a measly old bone it is too.

I have just got back from Berlin, a city that was not so long ago divided by a wall and whose inhabitants (at least in the East) were often forced into conspiring with the secret police in order to get their daily bread. Have I essentially just sold my right to live a free and private life for the price of a loaf of bread? I don't want to get carried away with comparisons here but I'm a historian (or so they told me at university) and so I like to make historical connections between our present day and past occurrences. It was Pasha in Doctor Zhivago who claimed "the private life is dead in Russia". Perhaps the private life here is dying? How many national databases share our private information every day? How many people sell their privacy for 88p?

While I don't have to be a part of this, I refuse to be. Ironic really, considering the fact that I am blogging my life to the world, but at least that is of my own choosing. And plus, I like to think it is my own minute political stand. Better ring the JobCentre now and tell them I choose not to sell my soul for 88p and I really haven't found them the least bit helpful. After all, I am the one who has just secured myself work experience at Time Out Magazine. I can't wait to get some more experience. It may be unpaid but even they are offering me travel expenses and £2 for my lunch each day... I might even be able to afford some sandwich fillings for my bread now.

Snobs We Are Not!

It's official says the Guardian, The Times, The Independent, The Daily Mail and even the Metro... graduates these days are NOT stuck-up job/education snobs who are unwilling to take on a job they believe is beneath them. According to BBC Education reporter Judith Burns, "recent graduates are more likely to be working in lower-skilled jobs than they were 10 years ago, new figures suggest." 


So no more of this grad hating please. Stop moaning that we are too proud to work in Tesco or the Pound Shop after having spent £3,500 a year (now more like £9,000 may I remind you) on a full time degree because, actually, many of us are doing just that. Well, more of us than were doing so 10 years ago anyway. We're waiters, promotions staff, shelf-stackers and call centre workers. 


So next time you try blaming us for our unemployment, think twice.


One stand-out statistic shows that the most worthwhile degrees to take are definitely practical. Medicine and dentistry come out on top in terms of wage per hour, closely followed by mathematical sciences, architecture and engineering. And where does History stand? Second from last, beating only the Arts. Typical! Why didn't someone tell me this before I spent over £12,000? In all honesty though I could never have been a doctor. I can't even talk about needles, let alone administer them - I fainted like the pansy I am when  had my BCG for goodness sake. Dentistry doesn't exactly appeal to me either come to think of it. Though I can't imagine staring into random strangers open mouth chasms is that appealing to anyone. 


Maybe I should have chosen a healthy medium and studied law. Law graduates seem to be doing OK. I reckon I could settle a few over-the-fence disputes for £16.95 an hour. Actually just saying those words made me yawn. Or is it the fact that it is 23:30 and I should be asleep? No, pretty sure it's the law thing. 


Still, those of us who are employed seem to be doing better than non graduates who are earning far less than those with a degree. According to the recent research, the average non-graduate hourly wage is £8.92 - which is still more than I, and most waiting staff, earn per hour - but far less than the average graduate wage of £15.18 per hour. Considering the fact that a third of graduates are in 'low skilled' jobs and graduate unemployment is at roughly 25%, it is clear that the lucky ones employed in the above mentioned career areas are the ones earning all the money. Not that studying medicine for 7 years and getting a job is lucky - no one will deny the work that goes into that. 


It's a shame I wasn't cut out for the mathematical sciences or for blood and guts surgery. I'm a word-smith. My brain functions in other ways. Do I deserve to be punished for this? Ha, probably just for the pure arrogance of that sentence. Seriously though, stop with the grad-bashing culture of blame and don't forget that we are all in this together. And to all you unemployed grads out there... keep a little bit of pride. No matter what they say.  


  

Romance for the Poor

The beautiful day of the year where we get 'the chance' to show our loved one how we truly feel is nearly upon us. Trust me, it will sneak up on you. I know we're not supposed to buy into all that commercialisation crap - red roses, love poems and candlelit dinners - but if there is a country who could do with a good old fashioned dose of forced romance, Britain is it. It is forged in the iron of our blood that we don't partake in fanciful hand-holding or too much hugging. Italians and the French even greet strangers with a few kisses on the cheek for God's sake. We prefer an arms length handshake, nice and firm and far from lingering. On Valentine's Day then, we get the chance to act for one day like Giuseppe or Jean-Pierre and cast off the shackles of being a stoic Brit.

During this delightful economic recession, where many, including my highly educated, motivated and experienced self, have no real jobs, how do we 'do' Valentine's day on a budget? A dozen red roses on Valentine's day can cost up to at least £40, chocolates increase in price if they are vaguely pink or heart shaped and the cost of dinner menus in nice restaurants double. I decided to do my research. Where better place to turn to than the wonders of the world wide web, for answers from impoverished and ever-insightful ask.com users?

Here is a tip from a certain destitute romantic. Try bathing together, as besides the fact that it is all highly romantic and bubbly (if you can afford bubble bath), you are also saving on water. Hooray! A lean, green Valentine's day, how terrific. Later we can reuse the teabags we are drying out on the washing line. Took the romance out of that one didn't I?

Advice from another blog owner called for us to surprise our lover at work by turning up, sweeping them off their feet and taking them on a surprise lunch date. If my boyfriend did that to me it would unfortunately be completely and utterly futile and probably get me fired. As a waitress, I get either no, or around a 20 minute lunch break - just enough to stuff a sandwich in my mouth fast enough to give me indigestion - and in no way am I actually allowed to leave the building. For an industry which prides itself on luxurious dinners and events, there is just no romance in catering. The same blogger goes on to remind her readers that they should not attempt this move if their partners are 'embarrassed' by them. I feel like this may be some kind of warning to her own partner, in which case, this does not sound like the healthiest of relationships and any advice given should be ignored.

One that makes me laugh the most is men's advice to each other to 'do some chores'. Apparently it costs nothing to sweep or hoover the floor, put some washing in and iron a few shirts....who would have thought it? What really gets me, is the fact that these men don't exactly find it romantic when their female counterparts do these things every day. Forgive me if I don't want to melt into your arms at the sight of you attempting to hoover the stairs. On the other hand, it might provide a few laughs and I'm not exactly going to stop you.

My advice for us out-of-pocket loved up grads, is to remember what you did when you were an out-of-pocket loved up student. Cook your own romantic meal together, buy some cheap but yummy plonk from the corner shop and watch a DVD cosied up in bed. We may be skint this year, but please, change the bath water, don't get your partner fired and most of all, remember, a hoover is not just for Valentine's Day.      

The Freelance Entrepreneur

With graduate employment as stinkingly low as it is, it's high time we took earning money into our own hands. While my expert waitressing skills get me enough money to ensure my impending death is not quite so impending, my income needs a little bit of a boost if I wish to save a single penny. Hence, I am going to test the freezing waters of entrepreneurship and freelance journalism.

While part of me really just wants to sell Vietnamese Banh Mi (the best steak sandwich in the world) from a food stall on Brick Lane, I have realised that this is actually more complicated and expensive than ever anticipated. Plus, I'm not Vietnamese, I don't have public liability insurance and while the sandwiches are heavenly, I'm not sure I could ever look one in the face again after making and serving over 500 of them every month. Still, I know what I'm having for lunch today.

I did try the E-Bay route for a while. Selling my old clothing however, got a tad depressing, especially when I realised that no one really wanted a fluorescent pink top or my old bra. Not surprisingly really, but I had hoped that there might be people out there more desperate than me.

Back to the serious stuff, I am going to test my writing skills on the local papers and magazines and see if they want to publish my works of brilliance. This egotistical speak is not entirely serious, don't worry, it's just me trying to stay absolutely positive. Pure banter. So, when I'm not working as a deluxe waitress, I will be coming up with articles to send to local papers or supplements. I'll fill you in pretty soon on whether or not this is going well as soon as I've banged out a few of my letters to editors. Unfortunately I seem to work best at night and seeing as how I have to be up for work nice and early for an eleven hour shift it looks like I won't be getting a wink of sleep tonight, let alone forty.

Reunion (Or Forgetting You Ever Left University)

My weekend pretending I was once again a student of Nottingham University was, to be oxymoronic, painfully fun. I arrived healthy, fit and ready for two days of student messiness. ("It's gonna be Lionel", as the guys say....took me rather a while to get this pun. What can I say, I just don't know enough about football). I left, however, with no voice, a broken shoe and a foot that was described rather too vividly as resembling a gammon joint. Student nightclub Ocean proved to be a little too much for this out-of-practice grad me thinks. Despite the fact I have black pumps without a sole on the right foot, am on antibiotics and sound rather like Leonard Cohen on an extra raspy day, I can say that it was actually, a spectacular weekend.
Living in the real world has been proving a bit too much for me and few of my graduated mates. The endless job applications, down hearteningly low wages and general lack of brain stimulation have left us pining for the student lifestyle once again.

Of course, when I was close to graduating I thought I had the whole world ahead of me. I couldn't wait to be earning and contributing, working and feeling grown up. The transition from uni lifestyle to real world routine can be difficult, especially if you don't feel much worth in your situation. Universities, especially personal tutors, need to prepare students more for this unexpected change. There are no cheap sports clubs or competitions any more and no regular social events with all your peers - it's very difficult to get everyone together at the same time and place these days. Alongside getting us prepared for finals, tutors need to be pushing us to start applying for jobs, work experience, grad schemes, anything that will help set us up for the after-life. I know these are the kind of things I'll be telling all my younger relatives to do.

Life seemed so much simpler when we could live in our pyjamas and eat pizza in the library at 2am. Nevertheless, the show that is our lives must, and will, go on. Despite reminding me of what I am missing, this weekend also showed me that we are all, mostly, in the same position and no matter what is happening in life, we will always have an amazing group of friends to share our woes with over rum and orange juice -or whatever other strange student drink we choose. Cheers!

Lets All Go Abroad

As the UK job market still struggles to find enough jobs for the young, many recent graduates are looking abroad for work. While my Twitter page (https://twitter.com/#!/GutsyGrad) jokingly suggested that we should all move to Monaco, who, according to Wikipedia anyway, have a 0% rate of unemployment, I suddenly realised that maybe it wasn't such a joke of an idea. OK, so Monaco only has a population of around 34, 000 people, making it the second smallest country in the world but brush up on my French and maybe they'll accept me.

Jokes aside, China is supposed to be big on taking well educated English grads, and the US seems to have far more grad schemes than over here. Hopefully Clegg's new £1 billion fund to tackle youth employment will help - although it means registering as unemployed for three months before they will help you out. What I want to know is...do I count as unemployed? I am waitressing, but it's not the kind of wage anyone can actually live off independently... unless they eat and drink nothing but bread and water and stay at a homeless shelter anyway.

Seems like it might be easier to look abroad after all, and gazing outside my window at the grey London sky and howling wind, I could do with a change of scenery. A quick browse on www.indeed.com, a jobs website, showed up at least ten editorial assistant jobs available in New York and over ten in Boston. Many of them for big publishing companies such as Random House and Penguin Books, or great lifestyle magazines.  I know America and countless other countries are having economic and employment problems too - but there seem to be quite a lot more jobs going out there.

For now I shall have to wait for replies to the jobs I've applied for here in the last few days. Fingers crossed they will at least get back to me for interviews. Otherwise, the possibility of me either going the homeless-shelter-bread-and-water route or moving to a whole new continent seem like my only options.

Job Seekers Allowance

It was a proud day when I strode across the ridiculously long ceremonial stage to receive a piece of white card which was the culmination of three years (well, two years, the first year of university never really counts does it?) hard graft and many thousands of pounds of debt. Was it all worth it? If not then thank God I got my degree before the Tories got their hands on our tuition fees. And that liar Clegg...the first and last time I ever vote Lib Dem.

Unfortunately, I, like so many other graduates,  am stuck in real-world limbo. In  need of money in order to still be able to pay my phone bill and maintain some semblance of a social life, therefore, in need of a job. Simples? No no! One must first gain experience in order to gain a job title which is not bar tender, retail assistant or waitress (all things I did when I did NOT have a degree). Today I perused the Guardian jobs website for the nth time and, while I should know what to expect by now, was still shocked by the amount of experience jobs advertised as graduate roles expect us to have. Unless I wanted to be a 'money hungry head hunter' (their words), a media sales trainee earning 'big bucks', or sell my soul to an HR training scheme then I had to have 'at least' one years experience in the role that I was applying for. How do you get experience if they won't give it to you? Plus, a girl's gotta live you know...so unpaid work experience placements just don't seem to cut it. Still...I'm going to have to do them.

I should probably mention here that I am looking at journalism or publishing roles. Though I expect I shall soon have to downgrade my searches to babysitter and revert to my sixteen year old pre-degree self. I am at least, living at home, and while the endless family dinners, generally culminating in a row of some sort, are a slight stress, I fully appreciate the fact that while I'm unemployed and broke, I am not yet homeless. This might change of course if I continue to have to scrounge off my family who, love me as they do, wish quite rightly to cut me off very very soon.

I never thought that I would have to, but at the moment, Job Seekers Allowance seems to be the only way forward, at least for a little bit. While some people may look down on people on benefits, it seems to me that this particular benefit was made just for people like me....those seeking a job! I am still undecided on whether to actually drag myself to the dreary local Job Centre in case it ends up making me feel more depressed, but, we shall see. Desperate times.

There is, however, always hope  and as it's always nice to end on a happy note, for everyone's sanity, I can say that I have managed to secure some very good, unpaid of course, work experience. I spent five days at BBC Television Centre with HARDtalk, a one-on-one interview programme which has had many a great name grace it's hot seat. It was a shame the placement was only five days, especially considering I worked on my application for over a week and wrote a mini essay for it but it was undoubtedly a fantastic one-off experience. I helped create programme briefs for the producers and input ideas as to who they might interview next. 'Plan B anyone?' I suggested thinking they might laugh me off or do an awkward shuffle in their seats, but they jumped at it and I got emailing publicists and agents which was all very exciting.
I guess the worst thing about work experience these days, is that it rarely, if ever, leads to a job. There are no jobs for it to lead to!

Anyway, I think I'm forgetting that I am Gutsy Grad and even with only £20 in my pocket, thousands of pounds of debt around my neck and a growing sense of worthlessness, I WILL find a job!