I was made redundant five months ago and I still don't have a job. Why? because most recruitment processes are not neuro-inclusive...
Since sitting in a redundancy meeting and hearing the words, "we have decided to make your role redundant," I have been job hunting. Scrolling job sites. Updating my CV. Making sure my portfolio is the best it can be. I naively thought, I wouldn't have this much of a problem finding a role that feels right for me. I have way more experience than I did two years ago, my portfolio demonstrates what I can do and even includes publishing a book (how many people can say that?!) and I have a few supportive former colleagues who have read through applications, offered advice over the phone and have generally been a lovely bunch. I thought I'm in a much better position than a lot of people, despite the devastating redundancy news and was thankful for that. My profession, communications can also be done entirely remotely. As long as I have a laptop and an internet connection, I can work from anywhere. I assumed this was an advantage and would open up a pool of opportunities further afield, that perviously to remote working becoming more accepted would have been inaccessible to me. But why won't anyone employ me?
Life after redundancy: riding the waves of unemployment and neurodivergence
It is four months since I was made redundant and I still do not have a job. This week I received two rejections from jobs I thought I would be good at. It's always the same story, another candidate more closely matched the criteria or they had more experience - but they never tell you what specific thing you need to also closely match the criteria and score higher. So I'm getting feedback, but it doesn't help with future interviews. My interview technique is generally good, and my presentations are always well received. Any written task I have to do isn't a concern, because writing is one thing I know I can do well. So, I continue going to interviews not knowing what I can do better. And that's the thing, it's always about being better, isn't it? What is wrong with who we are? We wonder, have I answered the question in the right way? Have I understood what they need? Do I look like they would want me on their team? Is there enough eye contact? Is being honest the right thing? Should I have asked for reasonable adjustments? So many questions, with very few answers. And when you've been made redundant in the way I have, especially if your former employer told you your skills aren't valued for their new strategy, the last thing we need, is to be told is that we need to be better. The version of ourself post redundancy should be more than enough.
On no longer being needed or useful: the rollercoaster of redundancy
This is a blog post I thought I’d never have to write, at least at this point of my career when everything seemed to be going so well, yet here I am. It’s week two of officially being redundant from my job, a job that I adored alongside the people who worked there, so I thought I’d share some reflections. Although, still incredibly raw reflections as I continue to navigate this sea of uncertainty, and try to get people to want me again.
EXCITING BOOK NEWS! MY JOURNEY TO UNDERSTANDING INCLUSION AND PUBLISHING “NEURODIVERSITY IN THE WORKPLACE”
Almost two and a half years ago, I was lost, confused, and didn’t know where or if I’d ever really “fit in” in at work. I’d worked as a youth worker for years, and had also trained as a journalist, and knew that writing was what I was good at, alongside being able to engage with the young people I worked with. Something, I often described as being my “only strength”. I have a strong sense of justice (literal words from an old school report) and so, would fight for the young people I worked with, to ensure they were supported, listened to and that they felt heard. I often felt under-appreciated by managers at work, and if I was given praise, it didn’t seem genuine. What does work mean for my neurodivergent brain I asked myself? I never found the answer. Until I did. I changed jobs in 2022, and physically felt the anxiety I had inside me from previous workplaces , relax. Almost as if it said, “You’re good now, My job is done. I think you’re going to like it here”. It was a strange feeling. Is this real? When is it going to go wrong? So far, it hasn’t gone wrong, although trauma responses still make me wait for the failure that I am sure is imminent, and will strike at any moment.