Map to failure

When I started this blog years ago, I didn't know I'd still be at it by this time.  The mess of an economy I walked into has now stolen nearly six years of my life, and the meter is still running.  I have plenty more posts left in me, but as a placeholder until I have more time, I'd like to revisit one of my first posts.  I had a map where I was keeping track of all the states I got rejected from in my quest to become a financially independent librarian, declaring that my new goal was to fill it out completely, so that I could declare that every single one of these United States has told me individually that they want nothing to do with me (since the goal of gainful employment is unattainable for a librarian these days, I may as well focus on something doable).

After my hard drive died a while back I replaced that ugly map with a much sleeker one, now filling in a blank US map rather than crossing out the states in a full map.  It looks much better, I think.  You'll also notice it is now quite a bit more full:

I only have 18 more states to go.  As you can see, I can now travel the country from coast to coast in an unbroken path of states that have been specific about not wanting me to stay.

Some of these states will be harder than others.  Florida is not the hardest state to find openings in, I only need to find one I actually seem right for.  Montana, on the other hand, rarely has openings.  The hardest spots to fill, I think, will be:

-Montana
-Hawaii
-West Virginia
-Rhode Island
-New Mexico

Alaska might be pretty tough, too.  Florida and Nebraska are only a matter of time.

Not very great expectations

We who have been looking at postings for librarian jobs for a long time have long been aware of how laughably optimistic some employers are of the kinds of applicants they're going to find.  More than a decade's worth of experience, a second Master's degree (in a specific particular field, no less), and willing to work 50-60 hours a weeks for just under 30,000 dollars.  That's a worst case scenario, of course, but I've actually seen postings that hit three out of four of those.  Clearly, some people would do well to lower their expectations.  Yes, this is an employer's market and you've got your pick of the litter right now, but sometimes the future Westminster winner you're hoping for just isn't going to be out there.

Now, we job hunters often have a snicker over those job posts, typically before sighing heavily, taking another belt of our favorite drink (hemlock), and throwing ourselves off the roof.  And yet, I rarely hear laughter, complaints, or head scratching about employers on the opposite side of the fence, and it's strange to me because I see them constantly.  I mean those employers who pretend to have no standards whatsoever, even though they clearly need someone with a pretty substantial wealth of experience.

These jobs are extremely easy to identify.  Any time you see a job described simply as "Librarian," you've just found one.  What kind of librarian?  Reference?  Instruction?  Collection development?  Cataloging?  Would this be a supervisory position, perhaps?  Would I be in charge of the website, or be the liaison to the instructors?  The answer is all of the above.  "Librarian" more or less means "you're gonna be the only one here. do it all."  Now that's the kind of job I wouldn't expect to get without 5 years or more of progressively greater responsibility in the library world, having moved my way up to a management position at the very least.  Maybe I wouldn't expect to need a second Master's in Oriental Medicine or whatever, but obviously I should be ready to tackle a huge range of tasks with little to no direction.

I see these jobs all the time.  "Librarian."  "Librarian."  "Librarian."  That vague title that simply means "every kind of librarian you can think of, you're running the show, champ."  And yet every single one of those jobs I see asks for the exact same qualifications: "An ALA accredited Master's degree in Library Science."  That's it.  As if someone who just walked out of library school is perfectly capable of captaining the ship themselves.

What I'd like to know is, are they honestly considering people with no experience?  Is what they list as their qualifications really all that matters to them?  Or are they doing a complete 180 from the laughably optimistic employers above, so afraid of raising their standards too high that they drop all standards altogether for the initial job posting, and simply weed out the inexperienced ones once they've collected the resumes?  In short, just what the fucking fuck is up with these jobs?  I don't suppose anyone in the know can shed some light on this for us long-suffering job hunters?

And if these jobs secretly do have standards, could we maybe see more middle ground between the "I expect a librarian who can ride in on a unicorn, holding the Holy Grail" employers and the "we need someone who can do everything, but fuck it, we're too afraid to ask for more than a degree" employers?  Please?  I understand your perspective as someone who is concerned about raising the bar too high, but maybe you could understand my perspective as someone who is a little burned out after spending over five years applying for job after job after job afterjobafterjobafterjob,  and maybe agree not to waste my time if I don't have the experience you're secretly looking for.  Just an idea, throwing it out there.

Talk about the passion

Everyone knows that when you interview for a position you’re not entirely yourself.  I’m not saying you lie during interviews.  At least I don’t and I hope you don’t either, since you’re competing with me for jobs.  But while we don’t lie, of course what we present isn’t entirely representative of ourselves.  If it were, introverts would never get jobs.  Nor would anyone who dares to want a job for the money more than anything.  And since people need money to, you know, live, there aren’t many people for whom the money isn’t one of the top draws.  And then there are people like me who are just desperate to have a full time job in a horrible economy, but we’re sure as hell not allowed to be honest about being desperate.  No, if we had to show our true faces during an interview, no one would ever work.

So what’s the hardest part for me to fake?  I can hide my desperation, I hope.  At least, I don’t come right out and say I’m desperate, or that I need the job, or I need the money.  I can also generally hide the fact that I’m shy, given that there’s not much chance for me to show that I am.

Nope, I would say the hardest thing for me to fake is passion.  Having to act like “Oh my God, I LOVE being a librarian and it makes me so HAPPY to do this!”

 I used to be able to feel something like that long ago, before my current job broke my spirit by degrading me in every way at every opportunity.  But even back then the feeling would be ephemeral.  The truth is, I am not a passionate person.  Not about anything.  In fact, I’ve gone my whole life wondering if there was something wrong with me because it seems like everyone else can feel so strongly for things, and I never could.  I can enjoy things, but not enough that I’d want to do them for the better half of my waking day, five days a week, no matter how I feel and no matter what else I could be doing.  I can’t understand the mentality of anyone who could love anything that much.

There are things I can say I used to have a passion for, but I couldn’t sustain it.  Art, for example.  I was one of those kids who was always in at least two art classes any given semester throughout high school.  Then it just stopped, and when it did it was like a light switch.  One day art was my thing, and the next day I had no desire to draw or paint, and I knew I never would again.  And I never did.  Sorry I never used that easel you bought me, grandma.

I have no tattoos and I strongly doubt I ever will, because there’s nothing I care about so much that I’d want it on my body for the rest of my life.  Honestly, I kind of think people are idiots when they get band tattoos, because surely someday they’ll be 40 and explaining “oh yeah, that’s just the logo of some band I used to be really into.”  But band logos aside, some people apparently just love some things so much and know they always will to the point that they’ll draw it on themselves permanently.  And I know I never will.

When I first started to do fieldwork, I got a rush from helping people directly.  Instruction work made me feel like a rock star.  Now?  I spend every moment I’m not at work dreading going to work.  If I could have sustained that passion under normal conditions, I sure as hell couldn’t do it working in a place like this.

But I know that when I go into an interview, I have to spend all of my energy trying to put myself back in a place where I had that passion and enthusiasm, when in reality all I really want is to get a full time salary so I can live whatever little scraps of life I’m allowed to have on a full time schedule, and if I’m really lucky, do it in a place that doesn’t degrade me on a daily basis.  I just want to live my life and get by, that's all.  Yet there I am, forcing myself to pretend to be upbeat and enthusiastic for half an hour or more.

And it is fucking exhausting.

I still think there’s something wrong with me.  I still don’t understand why I can’t feel like normal people.  Why I’m so fucking broken that I can’t love things and activities unconditionally.  I can find interests, I can enjoy things, but there will never be anything that I eat, breathe, and sleep, and want to be my life.  Never.

What piece of the soul am I missing that everyone else has?

I believe in Billy Corgan

This is likely the last post I’ll be making regarding the big event that happened recently.  Not because I’ve been given a gag order or anything, but because it’s the last thing I have to say about it that will be relevant to this blog.

As nice as the drive was, I found myself with unexpected stress almost right away upon the realization that I’d forgotten to bring something I’d planned to have with me.  That something was the double album, Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness by the Smashing Pumpkins.  I did remember their Siamese Dream album, but I especially wanted Mellon Collie, specifically disc one.  Don’t leave yet, there actually is a point to this related to applying for library jobs.  I’ll get there.  But back to the story, I had many potential “signs” that things were going to go my way, and this was the first potential “sign” that things weren’t.  I don’t believe in signs, because if God or the universe—whatever you want to call it—were in the business of giving signs, it would know not to bother since the potential for them to be mere coincidence prevents them from being any comfort.  But I digress.

And why would this be a supposed sign?  Well, for one I could have sworn I packed them.  I have the actual memory of sliding them into my CD case, so I was shocked and flipped through my case several times before finally accepting they really weren’t there.  And second, well this is the part where we get to why this was important to me and why it has crap all to do with applying for jobs in our poorly chosen field.

The song "Tonight, Tonight" was my theme song during that whole application process, from finding out they wanted to call me for an interview to getting myself pumped for making the trip down there.  And the reason is this particular line (and for your own good, do not imagine me signing it): “Believe in me, believe that life can change, that you’re not stuck in vain.” 

Here’s why that line meant so much to me.  It’s because I really do believe that the thoughts you put out into the world can, at least partially, influence causality.  Not in some crass “the secret” kind of way where all you have to do is think about it really hard and you can have anything you want.  No, not like that.  But self-fulfilling prophecy is a real thing that can influence what happens in one’s life, and even beyond that, I just believe that what you imagine happening can be part of what causes it to happen.  The problem with that line of thinking is that I don’t foresee myself ever, ever, ever in my life getting a full time job.  After living in this ugly fucking basement for the past 5 years, failure after failure after failure, I have a damn hard time envisioning my life ever being different.  Can you blame me?

Like I said before, this was the job I wanted and where I wanted it to be.  I went all in with this one.  I told as many people as I could to cross their fingers for me, hoping that they’d think positive thoughts about me getting the job.  I can’t believe in myself anymore, but maybe other people can.  And I listened to that song, trying to believe in Billy Corgan as he asked, and believe that my life can change after all this time, and I’m not going to be alone in a basement, working a miserable part time job that causes my “moderate to severe depression” forever.  That was what I wanted to tell myself, and now it’s what I want to tell other people in my position.  Just try to believe.  It didn’t help me when I needed it the most, but maybe someday it will help.  That’s my advice, believe in Billy Corgan.  Think positive and try to keep thinking that way, no matter how hard it gets.  Billy Corgan wouldn’t steer us wrong, would he?

http://www.savevid.com/video/billy-corgan-talks-about-chemtrails-to-audience.html

Umm, Billy Corgan wouldn’t steer us wrong twice, would he?

I too have a PhD in horribleness

In my last post I mentioned getting further along in the interview process for a full time job than ever before, for my dream job and dream location, and ultimately being rejected as all of the stars and planets lined up except one (Fuck you, Pluto, I thought you didn't count anymore!).  So here I'll talk more about that whole process for you new librarians wanting to know how these things work.

First there was a phone interview.  I knew it went well for two reasons.  It lasted longer than it was supposed to, and he told me right then and there that he foresaw me moving to the next round.  Pretty big clue, that second one.  There's not much to say about phone interviews.  They're normal interviews, but over the phone.  I wore pants anyway, just in case.

Then there was an online webcam interview where I had to give them a 15 minute presentation.  Now, that wasn't the hard part.  Remember, despite my constant failure for so many years, I'm not actually someone with no experience beyond fieldwork or volunteering.  I've been teaching this stuff for 5 years.  You want a presentation?  Well I just happen to have 12 of those queued up right now, which one do ya want, punk?

However, it wasn't as easy as it should have been for a few reasons.  I was in the middle of my work week during a big grade crunch, so there was that.  Also, I don't tend to use powerpoint for my lectures, but figured it would look odd if I didn't have one for this presentation.  When teaching classes I prefer to write on the board so things are more dynamic rather than set in stone.  Thus, I had to create a powerpoint from scratch based around the lecture I chose.  Doable, except that grade crunch made it stressful.  Finally, I had a tight 15-20 minute window, and I'm not used to having to care about the time too much.  Where I teach there's plenty of time built into classes for them to do their work, so basically, when I'm done I'm done.  This one I had to rehearse over and over to make sure I was in that exact window.

despite the challenges and the very short and busy time frame, I came through.  I had my second interview, which consisted of yet more questions in addition to the presentation.  Again, it went quite a bit longer than estimated, although I wasn't as positive it went as well as the last one.  It must have, because the very next morning they called me to meet.  So now for phase 3: I make the 270 mile drive where I meet the folks face to face.  At this point, the job is riding on my winning personality more than anything.

Fuck.

I actually wasn't expecting yet MORE interview questions when I got there.  I'd already gone through two rounds of that, and the guy made it sound like it was really more of a meet and greet, just to make sure I didn't show up covered in children's blood (although their ability to distinguish child blood from any other kind of blood probably says as much about them as it does me).  But there were questions.  And at no point did it seem to go well.  One guy barely looked at me the whole time and seemed bored.  One gal was looking at me like she felt sorry for me the whole time.  Maybe that's just her normal face, I don't know, but it worried me.  The whole thing lasted 30 minutes, including the tour.  I drove 270 miles there, spent nearly 200 dollars, and after 30 minutes they sent me packing.  Not a great sign.

You know the rest of the story, I didn't get the job.  But for those of you wondering what the process was like, there ya go.

For the rest of my life now, I'll always be wondering if my life could have ended up completely different if only for one thing.  Would I have had a different job, a different location, a different spouse, different friends, different everything, if only one little thing hadn't gone wrong?  Maybe if only I'd thought to say something differently.  If only my sunglasses hadn't messed up my hair on the way.  If only it had been scheduled for after lunch.  Any one of those little things and I might have had a completely different life, for all I'll ever know.  All I can do is try to tell myself I didn't get it for a reason, but I have a hard time believing everything happens for a reason, when nothing ever happens to begin with.  I always flash back to that conversation in Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog:

Penny: Everything happens--
Billy: Don't say everything happens for a reason.
Penny: No, just, everything happens.
Billy: Not to me.

I think this is how Houdini died

My last post was hopeful, so you had to know I was in for a fall.

I mentioned having had two interviews, and one I hadn't been rejected from yet.  Well, now I have.

This is a huge punch to the gut for me, so I'm just going to type this out off the top of my head, no rough draft.  No polishing, I don't want to live with this longer than I had to.  Just a blunt, visceral stream of consciousness write-up.  Be prepared.

This was a job I wanted badly.  Not just the job itself, but the location.  You'll remember, perhaps, that I'm not being picky about where I apply.  So of the millions of cities in the US, what are the odds that I'd be rejected for 5 years straight and then be offered an interview-- and come closer to getting it than I ever have-- in the one exact specific place I wanted to be?  A place where, had I gotten that job, the rest of my life could have fallen into place instantly.  Millions and millions and millions of libraries, and the one place that comes so close to offering me a job in that time is in that exact city.  The odds of that have to be at least 3 to 1.

I don't know what this means.  The odds are too crazy to be coincidence, so how could that have happened for nothing?  But apparently, it did.  It was for nothing, I failed again, and I guess that's a dream I can shove in a hole to die now.

But enough about me, back to the focus of this blog-- what my experience implies for other new or new-ish librarians.  And that is this:

To get to this stage of the interview I had to travel, and I had to do it on my own dime.  The library was 270 miles away from my current home.  I put over 500 miles on my car in 2 days, set out early in the morning with nothing but my GPS and a case of CDs (thank you, Mansun, Pearl Jam, Smashing Pumpkins, Troubled Hubble, Electric Six, and Frank Zappa!), and hope.  I spent about 80 on gas both ways, 80 on an inn, and 20 dollars for dinner out (including two glasses of scotch, in a state where alcohol is not as dirt cheap as in WI).  So, about 180 dollars of my own money got spent just so I could see a rejection email no different from any other.  It could have been a bit cheaper, but I just wanted a place close to the job.  Subtract the difference between the inn and a more sensible motel, and not ordering the drinks at dinner, and I could have done this for 150, perhaps.  Still, that's 150 dollars.

The issue is, how sustainable is this?  Say you're a new librarian looking for your first full time job and you actually do get interview offers.  How much of your own money-- especially on your current non-salary-- can you spend going to interview after interview just to add to your collection of emails stating that while you were a strong candidate, they decided to pursue someone who more closely suits their needs?

The other implication for new librarians is this: sometimes this will hurt.  Badly.  The other rejections I got were easy to sour grapes.  I just made "sour grapes" a verb, get over it.  But this one, this one would have been everything I ever.  It was the perfect millions to one job that I'll never have a chance at again.  And now that dream can go fuck off and die forever.  I wanted this job so bad it literally hurt.  And I mean, before I was rejected.  It hurt how badly I wanted it, and I was not misusing the word "literally" when I said that.  I came so close to it, beating incalculable odds just to do that, but it was for nothing.  I fail.  Game over.  And sometimes, dear new librarian, that may happen.  Not every rejection can be brushed off as "oh well, at least I won't have to move there" or "I figured it was out of my league, but it was worth a shot."  Sometimes you'll take a punch to the gut.

I don't want to get off the floor right now.  Let me just lie here for a while.

Not dead, just buried

I feel I owe an update to the dozens of spambots and the zero real, actual people who read this blog.

There has been news.  Kind of a lot of news, actually.  The problem is, I've been busy.  And when I'm not busy, my depression demands that I do nothing but sit here in my sweatpants playing Skyrim for 12 hours straight.

But enough about my crippling mental disorders, here's the news.  In the past 2 months I have had two interviews for full time jobs.  To put that in context, the last full time job I was interviewed for (not counting This catastrophe, which I don't and neither should you) was about 4.5 years ago.  So I went from nothing year after year after year, to two interviews for full time positions in two months.

I got my MLIS in 2008.  It is now 2013.  That's 5 years and change.  That was how long it took for me to turn a corner where my experience is now enough to get me looked at.  As you may recall, my experience all this time has been adjunct info lit instruction, so maybe it's not as bad if you're the lucky kind of son or daughter of a bitch who can somehow land a part time job that's actually in a library.  I don't know how such a thing as possible, but eh, people get lucky.  Maybe you did fieldwork where there just happened to be an opening.  Good for you.  You son or daughter of a bitch.  Anyway, if you're one of those people then I guess you probably didn't have as long of a wait.  If you're like me and your only job has been teaching info lit as an adjunct (I know I'm not the only one!), the the magic number you're looking for is 5.  Five years and just maybe your resume will start getting looked at (albeit, only for jobs with a heavy instruction component).

And if you didn't hit the jackpot and stumble ass-first into a part time position right out of library school, AND if you didn't make the connections to get a teaching gig at the very least (in which case you must think me the son or daughter of a bitch), then haha, wow, I have no idea what it's going to be for you.

I may be jumping the gun, though.  I'm aware that two interviews doesn't prove a pattern.  It could very well be that getting two interviews was luck, and the fact they were 2 months from each other is coincidence, and now I'll be back to another 5 year dry spell.  Could be, but honestly I don't think so.  It's kind of hard to admit, but I actually have a good feeling about this.

I got rejected from that first job, by the way.  The other one... well, we'll wait and see.