The CV Whisperer

I write resumes, which means the majority of those I talk to think I help rich, entitled people get jobs they're too lazy to get on their own.

This is one of those sad, and deeply unfair, ideas about unemployment that crop up a lot. The assumption is typically that the unemployed are lazy, weak-willed, and 100% deserving of whatever struggles they experience. When you're unemployed- or underemployed- you end up wearing a lot of baggage thrown your way by people lucky enough to not know how it feels to send out dozens of applications every day, many well beneath your practical experience and qualifications, and still hear nothing back.

There is a soul-crushing hopelessness to long-term unemployment and underemployment. And oftentimes, it's within that spiral towards depression that I meet my clients.

Overwhelmingly, the majority of people I work with are wonderful, compassionate, highly dedicated people trying to find stable employment in a world that would much prefer them begging for scraps of cheap, casual or contract employment. Most often, people get professional help with employment documentation like resumes, cover letters and selection criteria after they've tried over and over to find work without success, and feel like they need to try something different. Anything different.

There is a poem by Taylor Mali I used to listen to a lot back when I was studying to be a teacher, called 'What Teachers Make'. In it, Mali talks about the way the assumptions around teaching never live up to the reality, that the work is more time consuming, challenging and heartbreaking than the casual observer tends to assume. He talks about how often being a supportive influence to his students gets shrugged off as irrelevant by the world even though knowing people care and believe in you can be the difference between failure and success. I think about that poem a lot, even now I don't teach.

Except... I do still teach. For someone paid to write, a lot of my work is education. I teach people that their new document is a sales pitch about what they can bring to the job they're applying for. It's a chance to show people what you can do for them, and how you can solve problems they may not even know they have. I try and put myself out of business telling them it's easier than it sounds. Because it is easier than a lot of people think, and because I know not everyone can afford to get their next selection criteria professionally written up.

I teach people to value their work, and to take pride in their efforts. I have had clients who literally saved their previous employer millions of dollars who shrugged and said that was just their job, as though they hadn't taken the initiative to find ways to improve processes and make that happen. I teach people that initiative and innovation should be celebrated, not downplayed. You are the hero in the story you are writing, no matter the form that story takes. It's okay to acknowledge your successes. In fact, it's important to acknowledge them, because it's giving proof to support the information you're providing.

I teach people to see the value in their experiences outside of work, and to remember that our life experiences teach us practical lessons that make us more effective within the workforce. I remember writing for a woman who was re-entering the workforce after extended maternity leave. She had been told by a potential employer that this time away had ruined her chances at getting back into the workforce, that her skills would have deteriorated in her absence as she spent her days trying to wrangle three very young children.

She worked in the child care industry.

Think about that for a moment. Unlike general staff, who went home at the end of their shift, my client worked for 24 hours, 7 days a week. She dealt with children at a range of developmental levels. She had honed her negotiating and boundary setting skills, had practiced dealing with tantrums, sick children, and the stresses that come along with children too young to easily convey their needs. And somehow, that was considered a lessening of her childcare skills. Yet, when I helped her reframe her maternity leave into a masterclass of skill development- which it was- she got a job immediately. Sometimes you have to show other people the value in your lived experiences, but even when other people can't see or understand it yet, your lived experiences are valuable.

I teach people uncomfortable truths about the current employment nightmare, because it's important to remember that sometimes, it's not you, it's them. I have to remind them that far too often, businesses seek external applicants for a job when they've already chosen someone in-house for it. I explain how often the moods and whims of the reader in HR has more impact than you'd care to admit- that I've had clients come back and say they got put on the maybe pile before anyone had even read a word because the reader liked the template colour. Other clients, those who'd worked in HR, mentioned being nervous because they knew their pre-lunch hangry resume readings tended to be brutal, and what if someone else did the same thing to them?!

I teach people not to take it personally if they don't get that job. Or the next one. Or the next. That depending on the industry, there can be hundreds of applicants for a single role, and steep odds are not a personal failing. I talk them through their anxiety, even depression around getting work, and let me tell you, there are precious few people happy at their lack of employment. For all the rhetoric around people enjoying unemployment or welfare, I've yet to actually meet someone who enjoys life below the poverty line. I've been there. It's nowhere near as fun as the media tends to assume.

I teach hope, and stress management, and sometimes even how to white-knuckle grip your phone while you call a helpline for support. Sometimes I make my clients program helpline numbers into their phones while we talk, just in case. I make space and time for sobbed overwhelm and fearful confessions, even if it means I need to I text my next client that there's been a delay and I'll be with them soon. I stay until I know a person I will never physically meet is safe. I teach people to the best of my limited ability that their life has value well beyond the income they can generate, and that it's important to ask for help when you need to. That they deserve to see tomorrow even when it feels like tomorrow is the scariest and most desolate of places. Because maybe tomorrow is the moment things start to change.

At its heart, my job is removing the blinders, and giving people the opportunity to see themselves as the hero of the story they're telling the world. To see themselves as competent, capable, and deserving of a chance.

I teach hopefulness.