When you are laid off, it produces an immediate uncertainty that roils the stomach and tightens the chest. Even with a severance package, the victim hears the rumble of impending bills bearing down. It’s tough to concentrate on the future with that in the background.
The phone call, the meeting, the pink slip — there’s no kind way to deliver this news to an employee who is being set adrift. The lucky ones who remain are said to suffer survivor’s remorse, a psychological toll on those who remain to pick up the pieces.
I know something about both sides. In my 20-plus years in the pharmaceutical business, I’ve been through four mergers. I survived them all, plus three additional sets of layoffs (of which I survived two). I’ve had a total of 12 different jobs over 32 years here in Grand Junction, mostly by my decision, a couple of times not. Five of those jobs have been in the last seven years alone.
I’ll take survivor’s remorse every time.
All that jumping has given me a case of cultural exhaustion from adapting to each new job, company and market. As a young man, these fresh starts were adventures in which I developed new skills, learned new business arenas and met new people. I liked it.
My wife, who enjoyed a single job — teaching — during that duration, once despaired that I’d never find a “career.” But I always made a little more money with each adventure, so I didn’t see the problem.
On May 2, 1982, Exxon padlocked the gate on the Anvil Points shale project, and the last Great Recession really began in Western Colorado. I got a taste of a tough job market. I officially became a statistic three years later when filing for unemployment. I hated it, but we’d just bought a house. I sharpened my tools, lowered my expectations, looked outside my comfort zone and interviewed for everything.
It took eight weeks to find a job. I marched down to the unemployment office, gave the clerk my good news and asked her to stop the checks. She replied that there were four more coming due to lag time. I repeated, “I have a job. Stop the checks.” She wasn’t sure she could because no one had ever made that request.
The checks stopped.
Across America today, almost half of the unemployed have been so for more than six months. I can empathize with those who find themselves on the dole for the first time as they stare down grocery bills and house payments. I imagine that few are content to draw this meager benefit.
Professional prognosticators say this will be a slow growth recovery. It feels like it. But I’ve been alive long enough that recessions are beginning to feel like a familiar occurrence.
Since we moved to the Grand Valley in 1976, the economy west of the divide has seen a lot of this unwelcome guest. This is a small market, so the number and variety of opportunities are limited. At the end of 2008, Mesa County made the national news as the worst job market in America.
As of September, the Bureau of Labor Statistics reports that our jobless rate is 9 percent, down from 10.2 percent in January. But that is not the whole story. We have also lost some of our population base as energy employees leave for greener pastures. Exporting 13 percent of your number is no solution.
As much tumult as I’ve seen in life, I remain an unrepentant capitalist and booster for free markets. Americans have dug our way out before; we’ll do it again. As individuals and organizations public and private, we make mistakes. But I am big on individual initiative and responsibility, and I think both are in our national DNA.
Life doesn’t come with guarantees. It’s tough, and we actually aren’t entitled to much beyond the sun rising every day. From there, it’s up to each of us. I count my blessings to have survived yet another recent merger and think of those who didn’t. As I write this, I am thinking about my job, and how I can do it better.
And if my current employer will let me, I’ll stay here, continuously sharpening my tools for this job until I retire.
Hear that, boss?
Mark Sandstedt (msandstedt@bresnan.net) of Grand Junction has spent 22 interrupted years as a pharmaceutical representative — and has had 11 other careers as well.
