I got laid off. Here's the tea. (Part One)

I’ve been fired once and laid off twice throughout my 20-year-long career. The first and only time I got fired, I was 17 years old working as a summer lifeguard at a local swimming pool. The short version of the story is that park management came by to run a safety drill. I technically aced it and hit all my marks, but I wasn’t in the required park uniform. Instead, I was wearing these tiny red terrycloth booty shorts. My penis had slipped out while I was bent over resuscitating the dummy. Oops. Getting fired didn’t phase me though. At the time, I worked retail on weekdays and at a restaurant in the evenings. I had only said yes to being a lifeguard because it was a great opportunity to work on my tan lines while hanging out with my then-besties. I remember shrugging my shoulders and being on my way after getting fired. 

The first time I was laid off was during the 2008 recession. I was 21 years old, working as an administrative assistant to the dean of my college. He had two admins. I was the least experienced and most recently hired, which meant I had to be the first to go. The dean cried when they gave me the news. I appreciated that because I knew we were a great team doing great work, but none of that matters during a recession. More importantly, I had been recently awarded a grant to produce my first legitimate fashion show fundraiser. All prior fashion show fundraisers had been hosted at local nightclubs in Chicago, and this one would be at the Hard Rock Hotel on Michigan Avenue. So I took getting laid off like a champ and never looked back, I couldn’t. There was too much to do. I remember feeling like getting laid off had cleared the path before me. And with all the lessons I had learned via Fashion Show Failure, I was ready to take everything to the next level. 

Fast forward 16 years. I have been reflecting on these past versions of myself, as I process being laid off earlier this year. It’s been quite some time since the initial fallout. Once again, laid off due to another recession in the USA. And the truth is, I’m struggling to move on this time around. I keep having flashbacks to my time as an employee and my internal dialogue has become a rerun of everything that could have been. How could this be my current state of mind? I’m the “Cut-off Queen” as a friend recently put it. Moving on is something I consider myself an expert in. 

I’m not sure if it's because I’m now 38, which makes it feel like the stakes are higher. Maybe it’s the revelation of sacrifices made only to get laid off. Or is it possible that the impact of being laid off has left me in the ruins of workplace trauma? Is it that I could have made different decisions? Or that I’m staring into a job market overwhelmed by the unemployed. Have I lost my sense of self? Am I unsure of all that I could become? Maybe it's the combination of all the above. 

Either way, this year alone there have been more than 124,000 layoffs across the US, in addition to the 428,449 blue-collar workers who lost their jobs in 2022 and 2023. We’ve all seen the headlines. The job market is a massacre right now and there is no shortage of theories to back it up. Some say corporations are striking back in response to employees quietly quitting and refusing to RTO. Workers in the job force say they’re looking for new roles and interviewing for months on end with no results. HR TikTok Creators advise that even if you’re unhappy at your job then just deal with it because that is how bad the job market is. Of my peers navigating layoffs due to downsizing, budget cuts, or adoption of AI, we all seem to be in the same struggle and self-doubt. 

So here we are and we’re going to figure it out together. Welcome to my series within a series. I had initially launched Too Queer To Fear: The Column as a testament to being fearless in the workplace. Yet, I have become afraid. Afraid of how my peers will perceive my being laid off, afraid of being on the receiving end of those “poor you” eyes, and afraid of how uncertain the future is. Not just for me but for millions of Americans. 

Collectively we were awakened by the reality of Capitalist Imperialism and its incessant exploitation of workers. In many ways, the workplace now feels like a battleground. We’ve witnessed companies that were once pioneers of work-life balance and company culture devolve into the most basic-bitch of corporations. What does this mean for the future of workers? How can we reclaim our power in the workplace? 

For now, my advice is to learn the game and to learn it well. I’m too well versed in the corporate game, office politics, and the unfortunate reality that we cannot truly be ourselves in the workplace- especially at companies founded on the value of “we’re like a family”. Those are, in fact, the most toxic corporations. But that is the game. Play or be played.

Brace yourself for next week, when I'll divulge what I would have done differently had I chosen to play the game in Part Two. In the meantime, what’s your story? Have you been recently laid off and want some advice? If so, email me at ricardo@queerency.com