Being Who I Needed When I Was Younger

The first full-time, professional job I got after finishing my Master’s degree was a dumpster fire. I am now doing what I had needed back then.

In 2014, I was a bright and perky graduate. I had just finished my Master’s Degree in Gender Studies from the London School of Economics and Political Science and completed an internship for a mid-sized international development charity. I was ready to take on my first full-time, grown-up job.

That job was as an online marketing executive, for a company that sold cheap calling cards to immigrants. Google Adwords, Facebook ads, that kind of work. And the managers had… um, interesting ideas about how to manage.

My direct line manager, for instance, believed in giving only negative feedback, no matter what you did and how well you performed. When I drove their sales for my accounts to an all-time high, at less than half of the usual cost per lead? Not good enough. I wasn’t meeting the targets they needed. Which were calculated based on what they would need to keep running the business, aka on wishful thinking, not on what market existed for the product.

On a job that could have been done easily from anywhere on a flexible schedule, they insisted on butts-in-seats at precisely 9 am. Everybody takes their lunch break at the same time. Overtime is expected, but no, you can’t get time off instead later (or a simple thank you). Management has a separate break room- the only break room allowed to have microwaves; everyone else has to do with only cold food. And only managers are allowed to use the ceramic company mugs instead of single-use plastic mugs, because on top of wanting to maintain a rigid hierarchy in the pettiest ways imaginable, we also hate the environment.

Even the small things that did not break any rules- like getting a lovely card with well-wishes from the team for a coworker who quit or listening to the radio with headphones on while working (FM radio, because we weren’t allowed to connect our phones to the Wi-Fi) felt like an act of rebellion.

So, I joined a trade union. I organised a meeting between the trade union rep and a bunch of my coworkers in a supermarket parking lot, sneaking away from the eyes of management, and we tried to strategise about how we could push back. Meanwhile, I was also job-hunting like mad, waking up at 4 am to write applications before working.

I high-tailed it out of there soon, so I’m not sure what happened with the union, and whether my former co-workers organised. I did freelance work for a while- including door-to-door opinion polls. Then I had a hit-the-ground-running startup job where I learned everything about communications and project management. I ran a health education project. I ran the Facebook page of a pro-EU political organisations in the months following Brexit. That was fun! And if you want to know more about my experience there, I wrote about it before:

Finally, some years later, I had a good job with a sensible manager (which I still have, to this day, as my primary job). But the thought of doing something about workers’ rights lingered in my mind.

So when a friend from my uni days asked me if I wanted to volunteer for Work Rights Centre, a charity that does workers’ rights advice and employability, I jumped at the chance. Soon enough, I was offered a part-time job in their London office, and spent the next two years learning everything there is to know about worker’s rights and about employability mentoring; and helping people access employment justice.

Our strategy was two-fold. On the one hand, workers need to know what their rights are and how to access them. Things like how to sue your employer in the Employment Tribunal or the Small Claims Court; what to do if you experience bullying or discrimination in the workplace; how to raise a grievance or what joining a trade union entails. Then, workers need to be able to leave toxic or precarious jobs behind, and find better work environments. This is where we do employability mentoring: helping people draft CVs and cover letter, showcase their skills and put their best foot forward in their job search.

If you’d like a taste of the kinds of things I teach, I wrote about it before:

Then, I had to move from London to Manchester, for my partner who was starting a PhD there. For my other job, I could easily work from home as a data analyst. Continuing my Work Rights Centre work, which was face to face with clients, was far more challenging.

So I thought: You know what? I am going to start a branch of the charity and an advice centre in Manchester! My boss and colleagues believed in me and gave me the go-ahead.

Several unsuccessful grant applications followed, then a successful one. The Manchester Central Library generously granted us an open space on their second floor. Then another successful one. After over a year of running the new centre almost on my own, for the first time last year I could hire a service provision assistant; for the first time, I am now somebody’s manager.

Bad jobs can often rewire how we think. They shake our confidence. They warp our sense of what’s normal and what relationships between coworkers should look like. They teach us to cover up mistakes instead of having an honest discussion about how to fix them; and to be defensive, apprehensive and uncooperative when we receive feedback. They discourage us from asking questions and working collaboratively. They condition us to not care about doing our best- if it would never be appreciated, what’s the point? And it’s very common to walk out of a terrible job and into a better one with bad habits.

Nowadays, when I’m doing employability mentoring or support people to access employment justice, I see many people with shattered confidence.

“What skills do I have? I’m not sure.”

“I never really thought about what I achieved in my last job- my manager was really mean and was making me feel worthless all the time.”

“I’m not sure challenging discriminatory behaviour or harassment is worth it- all my coworkers think that no matter what we do nothing will ever change.”

“And even if I found another job- it will be the same. All jobs are like that.”

As I’m listening, supporting, making calls and filing forms- I sometimes glimpse 2014 me in the person sitting in front of me, and greet her with a knowing smile.

The good news though? Good jobs also rewire how you think.

I’ve had so far my share of good bosses and bad bosses; and I find it very true that people often leave not bad jobs, but terrible managers. From every manager I’ve ever had, I learned- either what to do or what not to do. Sometimes a mix, because people are complex. And I’m immensely grateful that with every step I took since leaving that toxic job years ago, I have grown into exactly the person I would have needed back then, when I was young, scared and just starting out.