I applied for seven jobs this week. I got zero callbacks. The news anchors talk about the “Low Unemployment Rate” like it’s a victory parade, but they aren’t talking to guys like me. They aren’t talking to the millions of us without college degrees who have seen the job market turn into a brick wall.
Since the manufacturing plant cut back shifts in October, I’ve been relying on credit cards to buy gas and groceries. The Federal Reserve says low-income families have “substantially higher” debt now than before the pandemic. That’s me. I’m a statistic. I’m paying 25% interest just to drive to a job interview that probably won’t lead anywhere.
There is a disconnect in this country that makes you want to scream. I see reports that the top 10% of households are spending money like water, driving the economy, while the rest of us are drowning. We are told the economy is strong because the GDP is up. But GDP doesn’t measure the sleepless nights. It doesn’t measure the shame of having your card declined at the pharmacy.
They call it a “frozen” job market. That’s the perfect word for it. It feels cold. It feels like no matter how hard you hustle, you can’t get traction. I’ve worked since I was sixteen. I’ve never asked for a handout. But right now, it feels like the ladder has been pulled up, and the people at the top are looking down wondering why we don’t just climb. I don’t want charity; I want a fair shot. But in this economy, a fair shot feels like a luxury we can no longer afford.
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