Tag: unemployment

New start? Hardly.

Annette37 Comments

My name is Annette and I’m on Newstart.

Newstart is a government allowance, a welfare payment, provided to adults seeking full time employment.

In exchange for Newstart, I am required to search for a certain number of jobs per month, and to report in person to my parole officer job services provider once a fortnight, to provide them with details of my job search efforts.

In the past 26 weeks, my job services provider has provided me with a grand total of three roles to apply for.

Just three, in 26 weeks. (Leaves me thinking they’re working harder for Centrelink than they are for job seekers. There’s a massive industry of people who have jobs based solely on other people not having jobs…. hmmm, curious.)

I have applied for job after job after job this year, fortnight after fortnight. I have worked for short periods, but have been mostly on the hunt. I apply for administrative jobs, from office coordinator to receptionist roles, I apply for roles I know I’m overqualified for, some roles that really interest me, roles that don’t spark anything, and jobs I think I’d be bored stupid in. I’ve applied across industries from public accountants to plumbers, from law firms to mysterious ‘private advertisers’. I apply directly and through agencies. I don’t even discriminate against ads with horrendous grammar and spelling errors, they need me the most! I write cover letters, tweaking them to suit each role, and I’ve checked and updated my CV. On paper, I’m doing everything right.

I send my applications out…     crickets.

No responses at all, for months on end.

Just this week, I got a call from a prospective employer. He confused me with another applicant, then asked me how much I expected to get paid. That was his only question.

On Newstart, I get $333.40 per week (as a fortnightly payment of $666.80).

According to The University of Melbourne Poverty Lines: Australia December Quarter 2015 report (Table 4) the national poverty line for a single adult is $520.51 (weekly). That’s $187.11 more than someone like me (single, no dependents) receives weekly on Newstart.

To keep things simple, I’ll break things down the way I actually budget each month, which is based on two fortnightly payments, totalling $1,333.60.

From that, let’s deduct just some of my monthly expenses:

  • $867.00 rent
  • $35.00 mobile phone (not on contract, just reduced)
  • $60.00 internet (fixed contract)
  • $90.00 average winter utility bill (this will come way, way down across summer, but I’ll have aircon costs)
  • $26.00 foxtel (not on contract, I negotiated this rate #likeaboss. I could cancel it, but I haven’t. Judge away!)
  • $150.00 groceries (this definitely fluctuates, I have a well stocked pantry & freezer, and generous friends)
  • That’s $1,228.00, which leaves me with $105.60.

I haven’t included petrol, occasional doctor’s visits (last month, I needed to go twice in the space of a week), my minimum credit card payment, a new sketchbook or pad of watercolour paper, insurance premiums, buying a magazine on a whim, or blog hosting costs, but $105.60 (remember, that’s per month) only stretches so far.

My purpose in sharing these figures isn’t to illicit sympathy, or to get into a debate about the merits or pitfalls of the welfare system, it’s simply to share the realities of living on Newstart with you. It’s no picnic.

I maintain a pretty positive outlook, that’s my nature, but there are financial pressures at play, choices to be made, corners to be cut. If I can offset those worries by listening to a podcast in bed on a weekday morning, then that’s where you’ll find me.

When I was last out of work, I remember crying at the kitchen sink on more than one occasion — what is it about doing the dishes that brings on the tears — worrying about paying the rent on time, or feeling utterly gutted that I ran out of mayo. True story, an empty mayonnaise brought me completely undone, you can read about it here.

I think a lot of people simply don’t know what being on Newstart means, so when they hear the ‘lazy, no hopers, living off YOUR taxes, blah, blah, blah’ tripe that shows like A Current Affair trot out once a quarter, (side note: stop watching that shit, seriously!), they don’t have an accurate frame of reference from which to make their judgments. That’s never stopped anyone though!

Anyone who claims living on Newstart is easy, or that it’s a long term option that people choose, is utterly misinformed. Try it for a month or two, I dare you: if you’re single, try and live off $1,333.60. It’s not easy.
I am actually super proud of the way I manage it, even if my RACV roadside assistance is now overdue.

I am so grateful for the Newstart allowance, without it I don’t know what my life would look like right now.

I’d most likely be homeless, and desperate in ways that I don’t want to imagine. *shudders*

Of course, I’d rather be earning my own money, as I’ve done for most of the past 30+ years.

I know that my next job is out there, it’s just a matter of time, effort and opportunity meeting.

That’s the new start I really need.

Frugally,

Annette

On work, and hope, and disappointment

Annette24 Comments

Exactly one month ago, I started a new job, to many huzzahs from supportive friends and family, which I heartily concurred with. The industry is new to me, the travel torments me, but the stand-out thing I’m experiencing is the unmistakable feeling of being a square peg in a round hole.

Has that ever happened to you?

If my job was a new boyfriend, and I’d spent this many hours with him over the past month, that would a) reek ever so slightly of desperation/infatuation, and b) would absolutely be enough time for me to know if there was a future with him or not. There’s not, so I would have walked away by now. People would most likely be supportive of that choice, because it would be ‘settling’ at worst, and just plain sad at best, to continue to try and make something from nothing. It’s nobody’s fault, it just isn’t meant to be. No biggie, right?

Work isn’t like that though. People have all kinds of opinions about work and what we should endure to get a wage. I have opinions on that subject, and they don’t include bowing to abusive, ill-mannered turds who think because they pay the wages, they can treat people like shit. Those days are long gone. Nobody should have to sacrifice their dignity or mental health to an employer.

You are more important than your earning capacity.

While we’re on the subject, you should click here and read about my friend Sarah’s current experience with the stress that comes when unemployment lingers. She raises some great questions about the taboos around talking about this issue. We must talk about it, I’m glad she’s talking about it. Perhaps reading her post will get you talking about it too.

Back to my square peg, round hole situation, this week I spoke with my manager about where I’m at, about how I feel ill-equipped to do the job, and how I’m finding myself despondent and blue each weekend, how there have been tears and worries. She was very responsive to me, as we have a good rapport.

I’m not quitting, but I have no intention of staying in a place where I simply don’t have the gifts to flourish and contribute meaningfully to a company, just to take their money. That’s not okay with me, never has been, never will be. And I think they’d notice my sub-par performance.

I have great skills, and I have gaps in my skill set, as everyone does. This job is almost entirely made up of the things that fall outside my strengths. Almost entirely! What they do see in me is someone experienced, someone who can mentor their younger staff, someone moderately sensible and mature and I agree with them on those counts. What they failed to consider, and failed to ask me much about, was my strengths in numeracy and in using accounting software. I’m here to tell you, I suck at those things. I have made fantastic mistakes that I can’t even begin to trace back; it’s just a black hole to me.

The school of thought that I’ll pick it up seems reasonable, but I sincerely doubt that’ll happen. I wouldn’t take a job as a translator at the Latvian Embassy, as I don’t speak Latvian. Could I learn it? Sure, technically a person can learn anything, but would it be profitable for the Latvians to hire me, not so much. I’m sure I’d look fetching in their national costume, but there are other people out there with Latvian verb conjugation skills who would be perfect for that job.

What’s a girl to do in such a situation? I don’t have a game plan or an exit strategy. All I can do is be straightforward and up front with them about where I’m at, continue attempting to learn an utterly foreign language and hope that I don’t do too much damage in the process. I may pick it up, I doubt it, but it may happen. If it does, that’s great. If not, that’s okay too.

It’s okay not to fit someone else’s expectations for you.

That goes way beyond work and out into life, don’t you think?

Non-conformism is a perfectly acceptable state of being. Not simply to be an arsehole, but there’s no merit in trying to look just like the next person. In fact, to me, it’s kind of horrifying to strive for such conformity.

Vanilla is a nice flavour, but it’s not the only thing I want to taste.

Square pegs and round pegs both have their place. The world needs both.

We need our individuality and our different points of view.

design

We need people who see the world just a bit differently to us, so we can think, ‘huh, maybe they have a point’ like I did yesterday, when my friend Sue was making some excellent points about the potential someone standing for the godforsaken election has to be of service to their constituents. (By the way, how effing annoying are the true believers who are milling about the shops on Saturdays handing out flyers and poorly made totes?)

These things I’m facing have me thinking again about a topic that I delve into semi-regularly, and that’s how we cope with disappointments.

What happens when we put all our eggs in one basket, whether that basket is labelled career, or a long term romantic relationship, or parenthood, or success in an artistic endeavour, and in spite of all our efforts and desire and determination, it doesn’t happen? What then?

Who are we beyond the things we strive for and want with all our hearts?

When is it time to lay a dream down?

Can we still find meaning with a broken heart?

It’s something I think about often, how deeply primal, yet potentially crushing it is to long for some thing or someone to make us okay, to fill us up, to sate all our soul’s shadowy whispers about who we are and where our worth stems from.

Happy blog post land this is!

Really, I don’t find this kind of thing Debbie Downer-ish, I just like to think about stuff.

I’m not my job; I’ve learned that lesson well. I will do my best where I am and if it doesn’t work out, that’s okay. I will be fine. In fact, I’ll be better off in a place where I can offer my strengths and smarts to people that need them.

And if you’re nursing an unfulfilled dream, a hope that seems inextricably tied to your soul’s survival, I just want to say to you, with no intention to sound pessimistic or insensitively shitty, I believe you can be okay too, with or without that thing.

We aren’t just the things we pursue, no matter how pure they are, or how deep the desire is.

Life has taught me that redirection and detour can be the best, most fulfilling paths, even if they are paths we would never, ever choose for ourselves.

We humans are a resilient bunch, even when we don’t feel like it.

Gosh, how am I going to tie this post up in a neat bow? I’m not sure I can.

Perhaps I’ll just leave you with this: thoughtful reflection never killed anyone, as far as I’m aware. If you’ve been pushing down a niggle or an eruption of questioning where you’re at, of feeling dissatisfaction or hurt, of feeling trapped or defeated by delays in the things you want from life, you’re not alone.

We have all been there, or will all be there, more than once.

Reach out to someone. Talk to someone. Talk to yourself, honestly, about what’s on your heart.

I believe we are strengthened by being vulnerable and honest with ourselves.

I believe we can find new paths when the paths we’re on fall out from under our feet, or get covered by brambles. Do I believe this is easy? Fuck no.

Most of all, I believe in you. In your soul’s beauty, in your worth as you are, at this very moment.

You make me hopeful and I write for you.

I write for you and I cheer for you.

 

Always.

 

Annette xx

PS. I really value our conversation. Drop me a line, how are you? What’s good? What’s challenging? What are you proud of? Braggers welcome!

 

Double PS. Don’t forget to do this, okay?

Look_up.jpg

 

 

She works hard for the money

Annette16 Comments

You can always tell it is Sunday night by the flood of memes about the Sunday sads, Mondayitis and sometimes LOL inducing complaints about going in to the office, appearing all over social media.

If I were to create a playlist for Sunday nights it would include Everybody Wants To Work by The Uncanny X-Men, Manic Monday by The Bangles, Material Girl by Madonna and She Works Hard For The Money by Donna Summer.

I work for the government. Well, technically, I don’t have a paying job, so the government provides me a benefit called Newstart while I look for work. I have been working for Our Tone (PM and gun Minister for Women) for a while, and frankly he’s starting to creep me out. I think he’s confused that I’m not at home ironing.

Once you have been unemployed for a year, your job services provider calls you in to discuss the Work for the Dole program.

My consultant Elise started the conversation with ‘It won’t be as bad as you think’. What a sales pitch! Where do I sign?

While I am pleased that I won’t be picking up rubbish from a roadside, the notion that I haven’t been working for the dole for the past 49.5 weeks really got me thinking about what we consider ‘work’.

Firstly, you’ll have to work out how to live on $326 a week.

Actually, once I put aside the rent, there’s only $124.

That $124 has to cover groceries, petrol, car insurance, electricity and gas, internet plan, home insurance, credit card payments, and the new 12 month phone contract you may have signed up for a week before you lost your job. I’m glad I don’t suffer FOMO when it comes to communication devices.

If you are super lucky, and find a job in the first month or so, it’s not too bad, as most of us have a well stocked pantry, and sympathetic friends.

If not, your work will include not allowing the seeming futility of sending out applications – week after week, often with no response whatsoever – to drag you down. It’s disheartening.

You’ll have to work at staying connected with people. They’re busy – at work – and if you’re used to socialising with them over drinks and dinner, well, refer to $124 above.

Depending on the season, you might have to work at setting utilities restrictions. Last winter I set myself incremental goals – no heater until noon, then 1pm, then 2pm. I’d make another cup of tea, or put another layer of clothes on. Some days it worked, some days were a bust, because it was bloody cold.

The work that may surprise you the most is the work of frugality. I’ve found myself comparing junk mail, looking for bargains, then foraging in the freezer and searching the dark recesses of the pantry to see what’s on hand – chickpeas and tuna and rice, oh my!

The most rewarding work is the work of perseverance. Even though it hasn’t resulted in a job offer yet, I’m pleased to say I remain optimistic, knowing this too shall pass, though there have been occasional tears at the sink and worries in the night.

Nobody chooses this level of subsistence. The notion of people ‘bludging’ if their only income is $326 a week is not only offensive, it’s impossible.

Perhaps that’s why Donna Summer’s voice has been reverberating in my head lately.

I work hard for the money too.

 ———–

I wrote this about three weeks ago, as a sample piece for an internship. Given that I haven’t heard a thing, I decided to publish it here. It’s an important topic, and not just to me. 

I’m thrilled to say that I now have a casual job! That means I’m working hard for more money, which is awesome – and for the first time in over a year, I’m mentally fatigued at the end of the day. 

Boo-yah! 

Annette