I think these hiring managers are playing in my face.
I’ve been on the hunt for a new gig for a large chunk of this year, and it feels like I’ve seen it all. I’ve watched some appealing job listings be pulled down within hours, while others sit stagnantly for months. I’ve heard tales of scammers trying to dupe job seekers; legit employers advertising phantom roles to collect talent data and present an illusion of company growth. These days, the job market is feeling like the wild wild west out here — and there’s no catchy Will Smith bop to dance along to.
Navigating that treachery is hard enough. But I’ve managed on a few occasions to escape the black hole of applications and get some interest from potential employers. With those strides, the churn has become so exhausting that it has me desperate for a much-needed Bali getaway that I ironically need a job to afford. The slog of these intricate application processes is to blame.
A popular meme once asked, “What feels like begging but isn’t?” My answer is what I refer to as the corporate Hunger Games—a process infamously associated with startup and tech culture in which you’re put through rounds and rounds of interviews, tests, and various submissions. When you go through enough of these, which can take weeks at a time, it’s hard not to feel burned the hell out.
A few months back, I threw my fedora in the ring for a marketing role where I clocked that my experience was a perfect fit. I cooked on that cover letter, calibrated my resumé just right to fend off the ATS filters, and said all the right things on the phone screen. But that was only the beginning. Next was the video entry, which involved awkwardly responding to a series of prompts like “Tell me about a time you failed” via self-recorded one-minute clips. If I wanted to do an audition tape, I’d sign up for America’s Got Talent, but whatever. An IRL meeting with the hiring manager followed, then two panel interviews on Zoom, and an (unpaid) assessment that devoured a whole Saturday.
Several weeks later, I made it to the final boss. But it didn’t matter. “After much consideration” . . . they went with the other guy. Same as the last two applications, where I was on the unfortunate end of a “really tough decision.” It’s giving “always the bridesman, never the groom.”
After a few of these corporate decathlons, you start to feel it in your spirit. The rejections sting, sure, but it’s the grind that really takes its toll. Every time you toil away at a resumé revamp—or pull another weekend shift on a pro bono case study—you’re investing pieces of yourself. And when it doesn’t pan out? It’s hard not to take that L personally, word to His Airness. The job hunt has a way of chipping away at your confidence until you start questioning whether the skills you’ve sharpened for years are obsolete.
It’s a solitary experience. Telling your friends or family you’re still looking sounds passive, like you’ve just been sitting on your sofa waiting for a gig to land in your lap. They don’t see the spreadsheet of job trackers. The hours of prep for interviews that go nowhere. The facepalm moment when you realize the role you were excited about is paying $25,000 less than you deserve.
I’m not one for sob stories, though, so this definitely ain’t that. Put that violin back in its case. I’ve managed to maintain my sanity by treating my mental health with as much discipline as my job search. It’s the boundaries for me. Three applications per day, max, and then I shut the laptop. Short walks and gym time are booked in my schedule between those virtual calls. And sometimes, yes, sitting on the sectional on a Wednesday afternoon with Highest 2 Lowest playing on the TV is acceptable. It’s all about pacing yourself so you don’t crash (or crashout) before reaching the finish line.
Searching for a new gig in this economy is not for the weak. Do what you can to secure your bag. And give yourself grace for the things you can’t control: the hiring freeze you didn’t know about, the manager who already had an internal candidate in mind, the flaky recruiter. You’ve got something to offer, and it’s only a matter of time before someone armed with hiring power (and hopefully a signing bonus) recognizes that.
The Only Black Guy in the Office’ is copublished with LEVELman.com.
