Broken like a clock
Out of sync,
Covered in dust and my gears shift.

The brown of my skin,
The curve of my hips,
The rhythm of my voice,
Came together to form a laugh
Like a lioness. 

A K-Mart portrait of my cousin (Precious Marie, in pink) and I (in green). We’re about four years old. Not seen, my Lion King T-shirt.

Thoughts on “Too Loud”.

My maternal grandma, Yolanda B. Benjamin (nee Garfield), was a blunt woman. People called her “Red”, which is a colorist Caribbean term for a “red-skinned” woman, but Grandma didn’t care. She wore red clothes, sewed herself red dresses, and drove a small red sedan that she’d pack my plethora of cousins and me into. I spent holidays and summers with her in Estate Hope, St. Thomas. She gave her grandchildren a sanctuary away from the noisiness of our parents’ homes. For me, it felt a million miles from St. Croix.

Still, I realized I was different pretty quickly. My cousins giggled when I pronounced the word “horse” (in Cruzan English Creole, the word sounds like “hass” versus St. Thomian’s soft h and r). When we’d go into bustling Charlotte Amalie, my cousins seemed to swim through the crowd like well-trained nurse sharks while I stumbled and scraped my knees on the Dutch cobblestone. But, above all that, it was my laugh that set me apart.

One day, Grandma asked me why I laughed so. “Just like your blasted Grandfather,” she’d said, nose wrinkled as she turned the pot of crab and rice. “Big, loud, standing there with his broad hat, like a lion.” I don’t remember what I’d said, but it must’ve been smart because she pinched me. “And your mouth, too; bad enough you look like he. Go, outside. Now.”

In truth, what she said doesn’t bother me. I never met Grandaddy. I couldn’t say whether what she said was true or not. When this poem came to me, I thought about her comparing me to a lion and it made me smile. She meant to say I was wild, ungovernable, uncouth, but I don’t really care about any of that. It’s just the way I was built. So, now, I laugh, and I laugh loudly.

SABLE will continue writing about family.

Thank you for reading. This is 2/? poem inspired by my family. I appreciate everyone who’ve subscribed. If you haven’t, its free to support me, but consider paying $8 a month. It’ll keep an artist afloat.

Granny’s knees and ankles
Turn blue when she moves,
Like a fading memory.

Her tears fall on the pillowcase, 
glistening in the TV’s light,
Our window into the outside world.

I inch closer and inhale:
Her kindness fills my lungs
And I close my eyes.
Soon, she and I sleep,
Dreaming of a world
Without the piles of paper
And plastic that covers grandfather’s mistakes.

A photo of Granny, Mrs. Vivian H. Bennerson. Taken at my kindergarten graduation in the summer of 1999.

Thoughts on “Granny’s Knees”.

Oftentimes when I write my poems, I forget to date them—mostly because I don’t want them to see the light of day. For many years, poetry felt akin to journaling: a spiritual practice to meditate on what I’m feeling. Dating them felt like putting a stamp on the emotion, making it permanent and deliverable.

With this in mind, understand that while I don’t remember when I write, I rarely forget why I wrote a piece. In the case of “Granny’s Knees”, I’d recently had a conversation with an older woman about my paternal grandparents. I remember spending an insane amount of time explaining the particulars of their marriage and how different Granny’s life would’ve been if she’d been born at another time. The woman pursed her lips, rolled her eyes, and chastised me for being calloused to Granny’s successes. “She was a poet, right?” she’d said, turning back to her computer. “Why are you worried about the money she could’ve made instead of cherishing the gifts she’d given you?”

I was annoyed at this comment. At barely 23 years old, I’d become keenly aware of the limitations of life and it angered me beyond reason. I’d been angry at the injustices that the women in my family experienced: ignored domestic laborers, paid pennies at their jobs, experienced horrendous medical ailments, and—all the while—being left to clean up the mess their spouses left once God called them home. How could this person not see how much easier things would’ve been otherwise?

But, she had been right about one thing: Granny made sure I inherited her gifts. Granny was a housewife for most of her life, but published poetry and made crafts after my Granddaddy, James, died a year before I was born. I’m the youngest of her six grandchildren and, if her writings tell me anything, she loved us deeply as she’d experienced six miscarriages and stillborn children before my father was born. I spent my afternoons at her side. She taught me how to write, to draw, to read, and—most importantly—how to pray.

If I close my eyes, I can feel the curve of her arms as we slept together. She died in 2002. I was in third grade. I may not have had all the time in the world with her, but I did understand her. I remember her mood swings, her crying, her anger. And, yes, sometimes, I’m angry for her.

SABLE will be writing more about family.

Thank you for reading. I’m taking a leap here and publishing my huge backlog of poetry, stories, and other works. Subscribing is free, but, if you’re able, consider a paid subscription of $8 a month. It will keep an artist going.

‘even trees rest

when the cold whistles

and leaves embrace soil

and the light removes her blessings early.

yet, street lamps pierce the night;

cars road and belch;

televisions stare back at 160 fps,

cracking our skulls through our eyes.

we are awake eternally.

am I the only one who tires?

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🍾 Took a bartending course that was very fun and rewarding. I still have to complete my course on beer and wine but it’s so boring that my brain wants to cry. I forgot how horrible self paced study is for me.

📄 I haven’t secured a bartending gig yet. I thought it would be easier but sadly, Atlanta is a funny place. Opportunities abound, yet the people seeking them outnumber what’s available. I’ll keep trying however. My family needs me, no matter how tired I am of looking.

🏡 My spouse and I are solid. He feels like one of the few things keeping me from tearing asunder. He’s a constant tether to the ground, whether I realize that I’m floating away or not.

🐾 My dog Gabby is officially an adult. She’s much calmer and adjusted compared to when we first adopted her last March. Sometimes I’m amazed at her progress. We spent so much time training and raising her. I’m proud of myself and my little family.

💵 I’m still freelancing. I’m still applying. But none of that can be top of mind right now. I talked about this in my previous post, but fighting to find a “real job” seems counterintuitive to being an artistic person. It also diminishes the work I do to care for my family and how much energy is expended on artistic pursuits. I still worry about my finances. I worry about a lot of things.

🗂️ A bulk of my worry stems from the fact that I’m dealing with some legal challenges. Nothing criminal; it’s a civil case and I’ll not at liberty to discuss it. However, it’s a significant source of stress and it took a ton of time away from writing or seeking gainful employment.

👩🏿‍🎨 That isn’t to say I haven’t been writing at all. The majority of my work has been for fan projects. I ended up collaborating with three visual artists, a goal I’ve had since I was a young kid. It’s empowering and a bit addictive working with talented people who are just as passionate as you are. Considering how few people actually engage with craft nowadays—often treating creation as a pathway to revenue rather than a form of expression—I am in awe at how well everything came together.

🔞 Sadly, I’m not at liberty to share the majority of what I wrote cause it’s NSFW. I don’t mind private messaging readers about it, but I’d like to not be kicked off of Substack. I just got here!

What are you going to create here then?

Essays. That’s the short answer.

Stepping away from writing post weekly provided perspective. I’m not a content mill. I’m not a content creator. That title and its connotations may tell you what type of behavior I’m avoiding: endless production cycles; weird and aggressive content calendars (not that I won’t create one); setting very high expectations and benchmarks that ruin momentum; and creating a persona for myself that enables distance from the people who graciously read my words.

I refuse to participate in the circus. After a handful of years in marketing, I’m certain that performative creation on any platform will not lead to success nor self satisfaction. Rather, it will create burnout and place an unprecedented amount of stress on myself.

Ultimately, I don’t operate well with tight boundaries. I need to freedom to simply create. Now, I need to trust that people who care about what I say will find me and choose to support me. I don’t want to cultivate a “brand” or whatever nomenclature is out there. Every time I sit down to do so (and there are drafts upon drafts of branding strategies for myself) I feel nauseous. It’s a physical reaction that probably stems from anxiety.

Mind you, I’m not anxious about creation. I like posting things and sharing my words. A year of consistently doing so has taken the fear of being perceived away from me. What the anxiety is about how creating a brand feels is inauthentic it: mechanical and antithetical to what being a creator should be. What I thought it was about.

I’m turning 32 this month. I remember how groundbreaking AOL and MSN chatrooms felt. I had a Highfive and MySpace page. YouTube used to limit videos to 10 minutes. DeviantArt was the height of nerd congregation. It all felt innovative and, for a long time, I figured it would only be a matter of time before I found the platform that I’d thrive on.

That hasn’t happened. Instead, the niche corners of the internet for writers—like LiveJournal and Tumblr—have become a cesspool, inundated with ads, a suffocating echo chamber that leaves very little room for error. I began to fear the entire process of publishing online because someone, somewhere, was chomping at the bit to tear you down.

This could be irrational to feel this way. It may have nothing to do with anything. Frankly, branding was created to separate oneself from the personal attacks that come from existing in digital ecosystems. Still, I hate how necessary that separation has become.

Nevertheless, I can’t fall into that dichotomous trap. Nuance exists here. The fact remains that what I choose to share only is only a peek into who I am. Any one claiming to know who I am by what they read online is being purposely obtuse. That sort of person isn’t my intended audience.

All I can do is write. Continue to pray whoever finds me finds me in good faith. And so I will continue. It’s what I’m supposed to be doing.

At first, I didn’t think anyone was reading except the 30 or so people who left reactions regularly. These were individuals I knew well. To them, I say, again, thank you. But then, I checked my numbers: I had over 40k points of engagement in a year. I hadn’t meant to do anything but, my posting became a rallying point for myself and my colleagues who’d been laid off or unemployed long term.

Ultimately, it’s these numbers that encouraged me to shift to Substack. I’m not trying to be rich or anything. In fact, the majority of my content will continue to be free. However, I can write more here than I can within the confines of LinkedIn.

So, here we go! I’m back, y’all! 👏🏿

What have I been up to this past month?

🏡 I got my household together: emotionally and financially. If you’re unemployed or underemployed, you know how taxing it can be. There were days where I felt stuck and unable to function from the stress, but I had to “unstick” myself. I had long conversations with friends and my spouse, Mike. Everyone came to the conclusion that I’d been in crisis mode too long. My body can’t handle it anymore.

💼 I decided to stop actively job hunting. The very act of sitting down to fill out applications on Indeed gave me heart palpitations. I’ll write more about the mental health issues later.

🫱🏽‍🫲🏿I focused on maintaining the freelance relationships that I have. While it isn’t where I want to be, freelancing has given me freedom to take care of myself while figuring out what the next step in my life is. I’m grateful for it and I’m eager to see what working for myself will feel like.

🍸I completed a bartender course and got ServSafe Alcohol certified! This may seem like an odd decision, but the reality is: I need to get out the house, y’all. I’m tired of working on my computer constantly. I love what I do; my back hates it, though. So, you will find me at a bar somewhere in the Atlanta metro area.

🥰 I tapped back into what makes me happy. I’m going to be featured in a fan zine for Yu Yu Hakusho (a 90s animation and comic series from Japan. If you know, you know.). Links are coming and previews on my Substack!

📚I started working on a novel and editing for independent writers after being away for almost 6 years. I love writing. I’m really glad that I started writing fiction again. I forgot how much joy it brought me. And it’s about time I reclaimed my time, even if times are uncertain.

Maybe being an employee isn’t for me?

I’ve had a lot of failures in my professional career. Rather, I’ve experienced a lack of trajectory in the way that my peers around me seemingly have. “Comparison is the thief of joy” or however the phrase goes.

I spent the majority of my 20s in and out of dead-end jobs, earning a Master’s degree in Science that only added to the mountain of student loan debt, and a series of fruitless professional relationships that either left me traumatized or broke, or some toxic combination of both. Sometimes I’d spiral into bouts of depression thinking about how horrible it all felt: why were my peers getting promotions, going on lavish trips abroad, and earning allocates and I couldn’t?

During one of these depressive episodes, I’d accidentally called my friend Pam (Pam was one of three Pamela’s in my contacts). She took the accident in stride—content to chat with me for almost an hour. We’d attended undergrad together, only three doors between our dorm rooms, and we were one of a handful of black women on a predominately white Women’s college campus.

I fondly recall how eager we were during those years and, while we reminisced, I lamented about how horrible it had been staying employed. I wondered if I’d been wasting my education, had gone down the wrong path, or if I just didn’t know how to play the game. Pam—ever the realistic optimist—said to me kindly: “It sounds like you need to work for yourself. Some people just don’t make good employees and you just might be one of them.”

At first, I’d been offended. Now, I think there is truth in what she said. I had that conversation in 2020, smack dab in the middle of Covid-19 Pandemic. I’d been fired three times over at that point: once from a consulting firm in December 2019 and from two restaurant gigs I picked up in February 2020 to try to recover from said firing. (Mind you, this particular gap in my employment is a long story that I plan on making a designated post for. It’s not a fun story, but I’m ready to share it.)

I bring up this moment in my life because I hadn’t wanted to work for other people, but I’d felt compelled to do so. I followed well meaning individuals’ advice: get a job, stick to something, make some money, then worry about being a writer. I spent years forcing myself to occupy spaces that didn’t suite me, forcing myself into roles where I behaved in ways that aren’t natural for me: pinned up, polished, rehearsed, and quantifiable.

Ultimately, I couldn’t keep that up and the lack of consistency was very difficult for managers because, as a function of most jobs, you must replicate tasks on a daily basis. I struggle with that. I struggle with things that are very, very rigid. And that may be a consequence of artistry, that may be a consequence of what the psychiatrists are now calling ADHD. But regardless of why I struggled to handle the most rudimentary jobs, the sense of failure is real.

What employment failures look like on paper isn’t pretty.

Failure is a thing that I grapple with. When you look at my resume, there's a just a stint of months-long or year or two engagements with no longevity to speak of. Rarely were any of these my decision. I do believe that I’ve been fired repeatedly has to do with my inability to conform or reliably replicate to the standards of efficiency. Some could say that most employment systems are designed for me to fail; this what my elder brothers, advisors and mentors tell me. However, to recruiters, to managers, to most people: it doesn’t matter, so I end up creating narratives to explain these gaps, which, ultimately, are thinly veiled truths.

It’s exceedingly difficult for me to continue that farce. Hence, I've decided to just be a working artist. It doesn't sit well with me to continue to prove something to someone that isn't entirely true. I didn’t “strategically” take these positions nor were these gaps happenstances.

The fact of the matter is that I worked and kept jobs to survive. I didn't work most of these jobs because it was my passion. I had a certain skill-set, it translated somewhere, and I landed the gig. I took the gigs because I had bills to pay. I didn't have a mother or a brother or anyone to pay my bills. Up until recently, it has been “me, myself, and I” trying to figure out how I was going to pay my utilities.

What my employment history looks like doesn’t change my reality.

To further complicate things, I worry a lot about perception: I’m a black woman, and if I had been white, if I had been male and white, a question of my work style would never have been brought up. There would've been a understanding that I delivered, and it didn't matter how I got it done, just that I did it.

But I am neither male nor white nor neurotypical. What I have been is placed in performance improvement plans that went nowhere. This led to me seeking FMLA and taking ADHD medications and all of these other things to try to get me to “perform”.

There is something insidious about that happening. That is yet another story I intend to tell (see, you should totally subscribe). For now, you should know that I don't want to be in a position anymore trying to explain because, honestly, it isn't anyone's business. I’m tired of justifying my experiences.

I don’t believe I’m alone in this exhaustion. There are several thousands of Americans who are unemployed. The last time I checked (in mid-August 2025), the unemployment rate is hovering somewhere around 3.7%. I suspect there’s a staggering number of Americans who are underemployed. By underemployed, I mean people who are working part-time like I am making 20 to 30 hours a week to barely pay their bills and then you have credit card debt on top of that.

It feels like the country is teetering on the border of a crisis. I cannot control that. What I can control is recognizing where I am at. After thinking long and hard about it, I believe its my responsibility is to be an artist--an artist that bears witness to the nonsense that we are going through and try to parcel out meaning.

Meaning from what everyone is trying to make meaningless.

If you’re new here…

My name is Shanice, but you can call me SABLE. I’m creating a community where artists and professionals can share their experiences, be intelligent and take up space in a world that rejects expertise and the messy nature of creation.

Free subscribers—who I’m affectionally calling The Gallery—will get weekly updates about my #JourneyInUnemploymentLand, where I discuss life as a professional in the United States, plus monthly reflections on current socioeconomic challenges affecting our community.

Members of The Mob—Paid subscribers at $8/month—get all this and:

✨ Insights about my creative process, including books I’m writing and what I’m currently reading or listening too.

✨ Off the cuff commentary about the economy, politic, and culture

✨The occasional academic-ADHD fueled deep dives into the strange and untethered

🗓️It’s been a year into my #JourneyInUnemploymentLand. Let’s recap what happened to me.

📤 Approximately 17% of my former employer's workforce was unceremoniously laid off. Around 9:30 a.m. on June 13th, I received an email letting me know I was part of this unlucky number. By 1 p.m., my laptop was locked, and all my channels of communication were cut off.

❄️ I wasn’t entirely surprised by this news. I haven’t said this publicly, but I had an inclination that something was amiss at the company from winter 2023. So, in reality, I’ve been applying for jobs since that time.

📊 I have applied to roughly 400+ positions, interviewed with over 20 organizations, had a minimum of 15 referrals from my colleagues, and an unknowable amount of networking conversations. Still, no job offer.

🤔 At this point, you’re probably wondering: Amira, how in the hell are you earning money? The answer is simple, friends: freelancing. My unemployment isn’t really the case. But Journey in underemployment land doesn’t have the same ring to it so the hashtag stays, okay?!

🏢 That being said, I should mention that I never received unemployment from the State of Georgia. In fact, they threw out my entire case. On top of that, recent changes in Georgia law say that I cannot get food stamps unless I work a minimum of 20 hours a week AND our household income can’t exceed $2700 a month. I had no choice but to freelance. It was that, or starve.

📝 You’d think that I’d be going a bit nutty with all this happening. You’d be correct. However, I’m a very cynical and practical person. So here are some hard facts:

1️⃣ Business is business to the men who own these agencies. I say men because, ultimately, it was a male-driven decision-making process that led to my layoff. I could get into the politics of this statement, however, it's a useless discussion.

2️⃣ Business owners aren’t prioritizing full-time employment. The current economic system is designed to disincentivize full-time employment, which is why so many people are contractors. Keeping a full-time employee is expensive and it’s often the first thing businesses cut when their books are in the red.

3️⃣ Our state government officials deeply misunderstand the realities that people live in. Our systems for social programs are antiquated. They don’t understand or care how or why people are jobless.

4️⃣ Do not be fooled by low unemployment numbers reported at the federal level. The reason that number is low is because many people are like me: they aren’t claiming benefits or were denied. There are thousands of Americans like me who are working part-time, accepting lower wages to make ends meet.

5️⃣ Job seekers like me—an individual contributor, college educated, at the associate or mid-senior level—are all fighting for the same jobs: for better pay and benefits to brace for the economic uncertainty to come.

💐I still have hope my circumstances will change. Until then, I choose joy.

#hireme #opentowork

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🗓️11 months, one week into my #JourneyInUnemploymentLand. Let’s talk about wages.

⛓️‍💥I forget where I read this, but an article claimed that with each additional $10k you are seeking in salary, you could be extending your job hunt by at least a month. When I initially read this, I thought hmm, that’s strange. Why would getting more money take longer?. What I didn’t realize then (and what I know now) is that people often apply for jobs just for the money. They don’t actually have the qualifications.

💻 I had an interview late last year. The salary started at $100k. It took the hiring manager three months to contact me. Exhausted, the woman explained to me that I was one of maybe 30 people who were actually qualified for the job. 30/400. Let that sink in.

💳 I’m not insinuating that people shouldn’t seek higher wages. Heck, I just told you I interviewed for a six-figure role (and it wasn’t my first interview for a six figure job either). What I am getting at is that there’s something inherently broken about how salary is communicated to job seekers. Salary, for most people, is a way to fund a lifestyle and EVERYONE wants the six figure lifestyle.

💹 The truth is that, on average, a four person household needs over $110k to sustain itself in the United States. So, yes, I’m competing with the majority of Americans to get a six figure job as a marketer and creative writer. (In case you don’t believe me, here’s a report that came out this week that states 60% of Americans can’t afford to live here: https://lnkd.in/ekp9WfNQ)

🧐 At my core, I’m a student. I love history and mathematics. I adore facts. And the facts—as I’ve studied the job market and been lacking full time employment for so long—is that we are in a historic crisis where wages don’t match our contribution to this economy; employers cannot or refuse to match the cost of labor; our government twiddles its thumbs to provide socioeconomic safety nets for its citizens; and the average American family are forced to climb over each other to beg for a salary that they can thrive on. (Don’t believe me? Here’s some longitudinal data about wages vs productivity: https://lnkd.in/e8f_yzsy)

🧍🏿‍♀️Colleagues, I’m just one woman. A qualified, capable woman seeking to provide for my tiny family—just like everyone else. Sure, I could listen to the not-unkind advice of people telling me to accept a lower salary just to have something, but that’s assuming that there aren’t millions doing the exact same thing.

☮️ I accepted that what I’m experiencing is something I cannot change. This is a historic moment of inequality and social change that I must bear witness to. My season of famine will come to an end—this is true. However, we need to talk about this or nothing will change.

Original post

🗓️Month 10, week 2: #JourneyInUnemploymentLand. It’s been 10 years since graduating from Agnes Scott College.

Colleagues, this weekend taught me a few things. Here are 10 of those lessons.

1. You don’t know who’s watching you. On more than one occasion, a classmate told me how something I said or did made them feel uplifted. How they remember how smart I was (then reminded me how intelligent I still am). This humbled the hell out of me. I didn’t think they noticed. I am so glad they did because I feel the same way about them.

2. It’s important to remind yourself where you started. The girl I was as a first year in 2011 is not the woman I am in 2025. I’m sure she’d be so proud of me. I know 2011 me would tell me to keep going. So I will.

3. There’s power in community. The dialogue in this country centers individualism. Branding. Egotism. That isn’t what makes things happen. Community makes things shake. So I’m tapping back into community.

4. There’s nothing wrong with a little competition. Agnes Scott, for better or worse, is a highly competitive environment. There are people in my class who are powerhouses. On magazine covers, scholars, nurses and doctors, published authors—I could go on. I sometimes feel some type of way about this but, instead of being a hater, it lit a fire under my butt. I either get with it or get lost!

5. People don’t care if you change your mind. The thing you said you’d be doing ten or fifteen years ago? Yeah, they don’t remember or care. They care if you’re doing it well and if you LIKE it.

6. Laugh with people. Listen to people. Be with people, authentically and presently. That’s when connection happens.

7. Show up. That’s it. Be in the room because, again, YOU DON’T KNOW WHO IS WATCHING YOU.

8. Act right. That’s how others measure your character. If you were a jerk, people will remember that. It was shocking how many people remembered the unfriendly classmates, weirdos, and skittish people from over a decade ago!

9. Don’t be afraid to step outside your circle. After spending a few years in professional spaces, it became harder to foster connections and navigate social hierarchies. But Agnes is a special place. There are people who were open (albeit many were reserved and nervous) to talking to a stranger. And it worked out fine.

10. Take the time to fill your cup. I didn’t realize how empty my cup was until I spent time with these people. I sat in old classrooms. I listened to professors teach. I spoke with old mentors. Rekindling the fire I had when I was younger is so fulfilling, especially in the midst of a battle I’ve been fighting for so long.

Colleagues, do yourselves a favor. Tap back in with who you were and who you knew in the past. You’ll be so happy with what you find.

To my awesome siblings at Agnes: I adore you.

Original post

Sunday marked 10 months into my #JourneyInUnemploymentLand and it's time to be honest.

I'm tired, colleagues. That's really the long and short of how I'm feeling ten months after being laid off due to restructuring. This isn't a complaint; its simply a fact.

I'm more fortunate than most: my lights are still on, my car hasn't been repossessed, and my family is safe with a roof over our heads. I recognize and thank the Almighty for these simple blessings every night before I close my eyes. However, if you know me well, I'm a very practical--albeit cynical--woman. All of these blessings have to do with the Grace of God and the power of my own two hands, not the result of financial stability.

Originally, this update was going to highlight all the things that are working out for me during my job search. I wanted to tell people about my small wins: networking with colleagues, cold calls with new connections, interviews I've had and more. But the more I sat and thought about it, creating a post like that felt disingenuous and tone deaf.

I don't want to sell y'all a false narrative. That isn't who I am. What I will tell you, instead, is that I am okay. I am healthier than I was at the end of 2024. While my family is still grieving the loss of my job, my cat and our old normal, I am okay.

What I want, though, is to thrive. Thriving looks like savings, retirement funds, vacations, and the ability to invest. That's what I want.

So, yes, things are working themselves out. I am doing it all: networking, applying, revising resumes, trying other industries, leveraging old skills, freelancing.

But I'm no where near where I need to be. For all the people who are following my journey, I thank you. To my colleagues who are hustling with me and supporting me when I need to vent, I am grateful to you. If you're just now finding me, welcome. I hope I can be an honest voice in a sea of noise that is telling you do more. You're enough.

Original post

🗓️Month 9, week 4 into my #JourneyInUnemploymentLand and I'm annoyed by bad advice.

✖️Take your master’s degree off your resume because people will think you’re a flight risk.

✖️Make your resume one page because recruiters are too busy to read more than that.

✖️Lie about how long you were at a company because no one will call to verify your work history.

✖️Don’t create a logo for yourself; it will make you look more like a business than a person.

✖️A resume doesn’t need percentages and measurements because your work is too difficult to estimate.

✖️Switch industries to what’s in demand and give up on this writing thing.

🥱I could go on, but I won’t. Here’s the thing, colleagues: all of this advice is thinly veiled attempts to get me to minimize myself. While these people are well-meaning, they are projecting their insecurities and prejudices on me. They want to see me—a black woman in the prime of her career—minimize myself to fit the mold of what they think I should be: perpetually in survival mode and begging to be noticed.

🫶🏿That’s not my goal nor is this my reality. I am highly educated, so I should tell an employer that. I won’t lie to get a job. I won’t minimize the impact I’ve made on an organization. I won’t give up on my dreams or misrepresent myself in an industry that demands that I stand on my branding.

👀What bad advice have you been given? Where do you think that bad advice is coming from?

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Month 9, week 3 into my #JourneyInUnemploymentLand. We need to have an honest conversation about why we work, colleagues.

🪞A few weeks ago, I shared that I filed for bankruptcy and I haven’t gotten a dime in unemployment insurance since I was laid off. I expressed worries that I couldn’t support my family. When I decided to share this, I did worry about how this would be perceived. Would people think I was complaining for attention? Were recruiters to believe I was begging? Either way, I typed up my little sentences and pressed post.

🥹 And, y’all…I’m shocked by how much that post resonated. Despite the absence of comments, I can see how many people saw it. Heck, I received a handful of messages from people encouraging me to keep talking so…let’s talk.

🧑🏿‍🤝‍🧑🏽 Let’s talk about how being unemployed plays with our psyche. I’ve had desperate moments of panic, wondering how my family and I were going to survive, if there was a way out of no way, and whether or not I exhausted every resource available to me. My confidence withers away in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.

💼 The truth is, colleagues, that human beings are supposed to work. Some of us are motivated by money. Others want the recognition, the thrill of being at the top of the hill and looking down at everyone else. Most of us work because it feels good to provide for ourselves and our family. We work because we have to eat, pay our bills, and find time to enjoy life along the way.

So my question to you this week is: why do you work? What is your why?

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🗓️ Month 9, week 1 of my #JourneyInUnemploymentLand. Did you miss me?

🩺 My break from LinkedIn felt like it passed at a glacial pace. The holidays came. The New Year went by. January felt like it was a century-long. So much and so little has happened in the month away from my little series on this platform.

📚I didn’t sit on my hands while I was away, despite my best efforts to rest; I’m sorry to report that I’m one of those people who doesn’t know how to sit down. I read a few books. I wrote a lot. I finished my Game Writer course at ELVTR, where I met some really cool people and learned a lot about myself.

🤔I think folks believe that when you’re unemployed, it means you’re sitting around doing nothing. That couldn’t be further from the truth. In my class, I was one of at least ten people who’d been laid off last year. All of us were taking classes, working part time, freelancing, or working on personal projects. It was truly eye opening. Also, it made me feel less alone. None of us were fired because of performance issues or anything like that. All of us were victims of the market shifting and weird corporate attitudes towards labor.

💹I have a few thoughts about the state of the labor market. A friend suggested that I create blogs on LinkedIn about it. I’m unsure whether anyone would read it, but that may just be the Depression Monster (trademark pending) talking. I’ve had a lot of engagement on these post. Maybe I should stop being a butt-hole to myself and capitalize on my efforts.

✒️Needless to say, I’m still job hunting for my next full time gig. However, I’ve been blessed to have freelance work. Funnily enough, I interviewed for a fulltime position at the company and, even though I wasn’t a good fit for the role I applied for, they offered me freelance work out of the blue. It just goes to show that a little bit of grit and a good attitude will get you far. Stay tuned, friends. The wind is still in my sails.

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🗓️ December 13th marks Month 7 of #JourneyInUnemploymentLand, and this will be the last post until February.

I don't have it in me to use my emojis as a segway between my thoughts. Today, y'all will get good ole-fashioned DICTION. Why do I feel this way? Well, I spent the past two weeks going through a very long, tedious, and altogether exhausting interview process to be told no. I asked for feedback, only to be told it was their policy not to give personalized feedback to individual candidates. So... that was a waste of everyone's time.

To say this sort of thing is devastating would be an understatement. I cannot emphasize enough how frustrated, stressed, overwhelmed, and generally depressed I've been during this season of joblessness.

If you know me (and many of you know me personally), then you know that I'm not a pessimistic person. Cynical, maybe. A glass-half-full type of woman? Never. However, I'm tapped out. My reserves are depleted, and I need to fill my cup again.

I'm taking my friend's advice: I won't be job hunting for at least two weeks. This series? I won't be back until after my 3rd wedding anniversary in January. I want to spend the holidays with my family and friends. They need me healthy, and... right now, what I've been doing isn't healthy.

My email inbox is still open. My phone is still on. But right now? LinkedIn isn't going to be my priority.

#Desperate #TiredAF

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🗓️ Month 6, week 2 into my #JourneyInUnemploymentLand. I've had a shift in my mindset.

🧠 Managing stress is the toughest part of being unemployed. I recently watched a video by Kurtzgesagt that digs into staying healthy and how stress contributes to chronic inflammation. According to their research, human beings living in the modern era aren't equipped to handle all the little stresses we encounter every day: driving in traffic, the bills we have to pay, talking with so many people in person and virtually, and more. We still have the brains our ancestors had 10,000 years ago as hunter-gatherers. It's no wonder I feel so stressed out at the prospect of being unemployed for another month or more.

🧘🏿‍♀️ The goal is to stay healthy. I am slowing down on applying; maybe I'll apply one day a week, maybe I'll skip a week. I'm not sure yet. But when it comes to job hunting, it's more important to be strategic and take care of my body than to find a job quickly.

🏃🏿‍♂️ I realized that many employers don't understand (or aren't empathetic) my sense of urgency. They have their own priorities. Job seekers like me are worried about the day-to-day challenges of living. Employers, on the other hand, are concerned about their bottom line, team dynamics, and reducing turnover (among other things). It can be difficult for job seekers like me to wrap our minds around this, but it's important that we do. Otherwise, we'll just end up stressing ourselves out or taking rejection personally.

🔢 I am approaching over 250 job applications since June. I've written over 130k words on personal projects. I've had 3 interviews. I've spoken to over 15 colleagues and obtained 5 referrals. I'm enrolled in one writing course and have at least 5 bookmarked on LinkedIn Learning. Numbers don't lie about your effort. Or, as a wise woman told me at age 18, a tracked number grows.

🖋 Working on myself during these past 6 months has been the best decision I've ever made. I could've sat, cried, and whined for a long time like I've done during previous seasons of joblessness, but I didn't. I dusted myself off and stayed consistent. Now, I get to rest during the holiday season. Why? Because I'm being realistic. Folks are going on vacations. It's very rare for someone to rush hiring during the holidays. The goal is to manage stress and there's nothing standing between me and achieving peace.

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🗓️ Today marks month 6 since I started my #JourneyInUnemploymentLand. Here are a few observations.

🧮 Funnily enough, my post averages over 1k impressions every week. #Recruiters looking for an SEO person really ought to hire me because, obviously, I know what I'm doing.

🎮 I'm taking a game writing course at ELVTR right now. I'm not sitting on my hands. I'm learning new skills, reading every day, watching YouTube videos, and writing. Again, I'm a professional writer.

🌐 I don't use AI assistants to write my content. Yes, I use emojis but that's because I think they are a great way to imply tone online. Get it? 😉 Got it? 😘 Good.

🏢 I'm still dealing with the department of labor. I am grateful that my state House Representative's office called me back today. I'd would be great to have SOME income coming in.

👩🏿‍⚖️ As a result of all this confusion, I've filled for bankruptcy. My court date is the first day of December. I know folks on LinkedIn parrot the principles of transparency, yet everyone maintains an illusion of distance. I don't believe this sort of song and dance is necessary in 2024. I am going to keep it 1000% with y'all: losing my job has disturbed every aspect of my life. I am going to have to start over financially. I cannot wait.

💬 So, when I was laid off in June, I heard through the grapevine that an executive at Terakeet said something obtuse. He gave a pep talk to the remainder of the employees that they shouldn't worry about the 17% of folks laid off because the economy is strong and they'll land on their feet.

To this, I say: you are wrong. You don't get to make those assumptions. It is irresponsible to think this way as a business owner. As writers continue to experience this disruption caused by AI and technological investments, I encourage business owners and executives to think about the ethics behind what they are doing. Money doesn't have an ethical value but it is simply a transfer of energy. We have to ask ourselves: do we want our energy going towards something that will disrupt someone's life?

✍🏿 Anyway, I don't have a neat way to tie this up. I'm going to be okay. I am tired but I'm still fighting. I'm showing up for myself and my family. Hire me.

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🗓️ Month 5, week 3: I can't code switch this week.

🇺🇲To my non-Black colleagues, I apologize in advance. You can read or you don't. Either way, I don't got it in me to sanitize my speech.

🇻🇮Ayo. What really happening? Truly. Because we REALLY watched a qualified woman have to concede to The Cheeto Man.

I vex. I cannot even make words to explain the rage I feel, the sadness I feel for Kamala because I know what they told her: work harder, be smarter, say this THAT way, don't do that, and do it all with a smile. Lower your standards. Don't talk about your wins TOO much.

I been hunting for work for over 5 months. 5 months. I've had people tell me:

👎🏿Take your masters degree off your resume.

👎🏿Don't talk about your leadership experience.

👎🏿Apply to any job and take a lower salary.

👎🏿Be humble.

👎🏿Lower your head.

👎🏿Work your way up.

👎🏿Go work for the state.

👎🏿Work in another industry.

👎🏿Give up on writing and content creation.

AND THIS IS EVEN COMING FROM MY OWN FAMILY. 🗣️🗣️

I am tired. I am angry.

At this point, I need a job. I need to bring income in. But I DONT have it in me to sugar coat the predicament I'm in.

I need a referral at this point. If you're a hiring manager, please read the previous post in this series. I swear I'm not usually like this.

But today? This week? I'm tired. And I'm only human.

#JourneyInUnemploymentLand

#OpenToWork

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🗓 Month 5, week 2 into my Journey In Unemployment Land. Here's a list of controllable things.

🚶‍♀️ I can control what I do with my body. I choose to walk my dog and play with my elderly cat. I cook healthy meals for my family. I drink my water, take my medications daily, and I read often.

🚘 I control where I go. I can get in my car and window shop with my friends. Mike, my husband, and I visit his family every Sunday.

📲 My cellphone is a two way communication device. I'm decisive about the apps I spend my time on, what phone calls I take, who I text, and how much screen time I have.

Here's what I cannot control:

❌ What recruiters do or don't do.

❌ Whether my resume is read or not.

❌ When I'll be hired.

❌ How I'm perceived by others.

❌ The state of the economy.

And these are just the tip of the iceberg. As the holiday season approaches, I am choosing to focus on what I control. I contemplated if I should continue these updates or whether it was worth the effort, but I've decided to keep posting. I think there is value in being authentic and letting people see that they aren't alone. There's space for people like myself on this platform to share our experiences.

#JourneyInUnemploymentLand

#OpenToWork

#StillTrucking

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📆 Month 5 into my Journey In Unemployment Land. A lot of different things are happening at the same time.

🐶 My dog has officially entered her teenager phase. She's rolling her eyes, disobeying commands, and throwing tantrums. Please send all the dog training videos. I mean it. Help.

👨‍👩‍👦‍👦 My family is planning a trip to the Virgin Islands in January. My niece and brother-in-law are graduating from high school in May. I have no clue if I'll be able to attend either ceremony, let alone get them gifts.

💒 A bunch of people are getting married. I've been invited. I can only go to one. I'm hosting friends for the event. I am not ready to answer the How've you been question.

🏢 I'm still arguing with the Department of Labor. I did contact my local representatives for help but I've heard nothing. I will follow up. I will keep fighting.

📝 I've officially submitted over 200 job applications. No interviews, no callbacks, nothing. I do have a bunch of recruiters contacting me to train AI models, however. That makes me want to gag.

📊 Between March to October, I've written over 150k words on personal art projects. I don't have the stats for the copy I wrote at Terakeet. I'm positive I've written over 200K words, if I were to include digital copy. I'm really proud of how consistent I've been.

👩‍🎓 I signed up for a writing workshop. I'm still learning: reading books, taking classes, talking to other professionals, and watching YouTube.

🧠 I'm wondering if I want to stay in marketing anymore. Is it for me? Why was I doing it in the first place? I'll be back once I figure out the words.

Until then, keep me in your thoughts. Keep sending me job postings. Let's connect and chat! We are in this together.

#JourneyInUnemploymentLand

#OpenToWork

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📆 Week 15 into my Journey In Unemployment Land. I'm still trucking.

🗳 My brother thinks that hiring will pick back up after the 2024 Election is over. I hope he's right. What do you think?

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 I've been very deliberate in what I disclose to my family. This moment in my life feels like I'm walking on a tightrope. I'm tired of well-meaning advice and misplaced judgment.

🕸 On the other hand, I've been fortunate to have many professional and personal connections who are helping me search for work. I speak to them regularly. They've helped me tweak my resume and write cover letters. Some have submitted referrals for me.

🗂 A few weeks ago, I talked about my struggles to get assistance from the state after getting laid off. That's been an ongoing battle. I had to apply for food stamps three times and finally got it the third time. I still haven't gotten unemployment insurance. Hopefully, that will change this week. That means I've had no income coming in for two months.

⛵ I've felt the compulsion to give up on my goals and vision for my life. I wonder if doors are closed to me for a reason. Maybe I'm not meant to do the things I dream for myself.

🌄 But I've been trying not to dwell on those negative emotions. My moment is coming. I just don't know when it'll be. Until then, I'll keep trucking. My game writer course starts next month. I have my friends and family here to support me. My moment is coming.

#JourneyInUnemploymentLand

#OpenToWork

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📅 Week 14 of my Journey In Unemployment Land. How am I doing? I'm glad you asked.

🐕 Gabby, my one year old Mountain Cur, finally got spayed. Everyone warns you how strange having a sick pet in your home is, but I always figured they were exaggerating. I miss my high-energy girl. We need to go exploring the neighborhood again!

🐱 Bridgette, my 16 year old cat, loves singing the song of her people between the hours of 3 and 4 am. She is terrorizing us. Please send help.

💌 My spouse and I are discussing ways to pivot our lives. He and I are well-educated, young, and childless. Our 20s were rocky. It's time to apply the lessons learned and steer the ship to clearer waters. Otherwise, this season of joblessness would be for nothing.

💸 The bills keep coming. My insurance keeps rising. I now understand Destiny's Child's hit single, Bills, Bills, Bills. If you cannot pay my bills, I don't feel like speaking to you.

📿 My goal is not to stress myself out or make any hasty decisions. There are moments of panic that hit me regularly. These moments aren't entirely irrational. Government assistance is slow to arrive. I have friends and family but they are struggling themselves. The news seems to echo the rising drums of war. And everyone is walking around in a perpetual state of false bravado, in the hopes that it'll get them hired.

🌥 I'm generally a positive person. Every cloud has a silver lining and every avenue has something around its corner. However, cynicism became my friend this week. I hate that I cannot buy something for my husband something for his birthday. My pets need medical care and food. I need so many things. So yeah...I'm feeling the pinch this week, y'all. I'm not sure what else I can say.

#JourneyInUnemploymentLand

#OpenToWork

#Desperate

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