In the current day and age, especially in London, it seems like having a university degree or remotely interesting experience does not mean getting a job will be any easier.
It had been a kick in the face, and a graduate from an arts school such as myself can prove that. It constantly feels like this self-loathing game of begging where you just want to scream “I NEED A JOB” but no, you must make sure your CV, website, portfolio and cover letter are constantly tailored to each job. You need to shine in a pool of thousands of graduates and somehow, some way, not sell your soul to start your career.
Here are my 5 top tips to getting a job:
- Get a cheap bottle of wine
- Mentally process everything your teachers have told you, all those reassurances about “the industry is tough but you’ll find your way” that meant absolutely nothing the moment you actually graduated
- Check LinkedIn and view everyone’s post about getting a job, the “thrilled and humbled to announce” posts that make you wonder if you’re the only person left who hasn’t figured it out
- Apply to a role at 11pm with a cover letter that says “I am deeply passionate about administrative support” when you have never once felt passionate about anything administrative in your life
- Finally, close your laptop and go to bed, because nothing good has ever come from doom scrolling job boards past midnight
For some, getting a job is as easy as breathing. I mean, why go through all the theatrics if mummy and daddy can help you? Meanwhile the rest of us are refreshing our inbox like it owes us money, rereading rejection emails that somehow still manage to say “we were impressed by your application” while rejecting it. There’s a particular kind of humiliation in being told you’re impressive and unwanted in the same sentence.
Nobody tells you that the hardest part of graduating isn’t the job hunt itself, it’s watching your sense of identity get tangled up in your employment status. Suddenly you’re not an artist, a writer, a creative, you’re just “unemployed,” a word that somehow manages to erase everything else you are.
Maybe there isn’t a real formula. Maybe it’s just wine, LinkedIn doom scrolling, and hoping tomorrow’s version of you has slightly more luck than today’s. Or maybe, and this is the part nobody wants to hear, it’s just time. Time, rejection, and the quiet stubbornness of showing up again the next day even when you don’t particularly feel like it.
-C
DEVOTION 