On mosaics: contemplating career grief & transitions
Jack London Square, Oakland, CA
On Monday September 9, 2020, I woke up in my Oakland, CA apartment to an ominous orange sky. A result of light being filtered through drifting smoke from the wildfires raging in Northern California’s Plumas National Forest, the shrouded skies hung as a symbol of the unprecedented times into which 2020 had hurled us. With the inception of the Covid-19 crisis, my company had rapidly switched to a fully remote work model in March, and as such, like many of the folks working at tech or digital service companies, we were privileged to work from the safety of our homes. As that day in September remained cloaked in somber orange shadows though, my colleagues and I joked, “so this is what it’s like to work through the apocalypse.”
Although our privilege shielded us from the most brutal, traumatic and chaotic impacts of the pandemic, as tech workers we still faced the collective uncertainty, sorrow and rapid change that rippled through the world in 2020. As we spent our days before screens each day, the socio-political landscape roiled. Lines outside grocery stores snaked around blocks as we stood six feet away from each other and waited to be let inside. Igniting global protests, in the U.S., anger spilled into the streets in wake of the killing of George Floyd. Political divides in the country deepened as tensions rose regarding business closures, social distancing, wearing masks and vaccine mandates.
Many of us found ourselves working far beyond 8 hours a day and bearing mentally debilitating workloads in the midst of living situations not set up for multiple people to be working, schooling, parenting and occupying the same space all day. That year I hunched over my laptop at the kitchen table in the 3 bedroom apartment I shared with two housemates. The week of the 2020 U.S. presidential elections, despite having raised workload concerns to my employer, I worked over 50 hours as I tried to tame the anxiety roiling in my stomach about the potential outcome.
The pandemic highlighted starkly what we already knew as digital workers, but felt more acutely as the ground metaphorically split open. Even though we were facing what was repeatedly referred to as “unprecedented times,” we were expected to carry on as usual with rigid deadlines, pitches, presentations and mounting to-do lists. We were given little to no space to grapple with the swiftly shifting society around us. To be fair, there were companies like mine that offered additional sick days, mental health days and half days off on Fridays, but it felt disorienting to keep clacking away on a keyboard and hopping on Zoom while the world ached and agitated. We were expected to work at the pace and in the manner of machinery, producing the same results in spite of what was happening around us.
“In our field, when things are difficult, we’ve been taught to dig deeper, grind harder, push through, but how much deeper can we dig when the bottom is barren?”
Five years later, the churning of the tech industry and globe has only intensified. Mass layoffs have thrust many into job searches lasting months, and in some cases, years. Workers are quickly trying to adapt to the inevitable presence of AI in our field. Geo-political conflicts and polarization continue to scourge the earth. Rising costs of living are gripping us.
In the midst of this backdrop, I hear personal laments from those in the tech industry. The dismal prospects of finding a job when you have “too much experience.” Deep disappointment at delaying starting a family because living costs feel untenable. Dismay that at midlife and career, people feel behind and like they’re running out of time. Burnout seems to be endemic with some sources stating that over 65% of IT workers identify with the state. 2020 propelled us into a crisis that, while there have been ebbs and flows, has continued to escalate.
In our field, when things are difficult, we’ve been taught to dig deeper, grind harder, push through, but how much deeper can we dig when the bottom is barren?
The Mosaic Reflection Session
Henry David Thoreau stated, “The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it.” What have you exchanged for your life and career since 2020? What have you lost? And when will you weep?
This year I’ll be hosting the Mosaic Reflection Session, a virtual experience to give mid-career tech and corporate professionals space to grieve. This session is for you if:
You feel stunned by recent life & career transitions and are unsure how to move forward
Despite crossing the threshold into 2025, you’re still processing 2020
You’re tired of digging, grinding and pushing through and need a break
Via poetry, music and journaling, this session will guide you through contemplation to acknowledge your losses and find comfort, inspiration and hope. Grief cannot be contained in a one time event, but this session will create an avenue to identify your broken pieces, so that you can begin to craft a metaphorical mosaic of what remains.