Disestablished, by the Illuminati

In my most ‘‘job-desperate days’’ of post-Covid career meltdown I threw off my rusty shackles of pride and hurt feelings and applied for every job on Seek.

I got no interviews. As accomplished as I may have thought I was at ‘‘being me’’, it became clear that I was a bit of a one-trick pony.

I am a content creator and communicator. One string to my bow. One chorus to my rock ballad, one tool in my toolbox.

No-one gave me an interview, except a couple of great guys from a recruitment company who may have noticed my 600 applications coming via their company. They were so cool. We chatted for hours and they made me feel less like a giant waste of career space.

Johnny and Ian, thank you for a great night. Sorry I was such a Needy Nelly.

There are those who believe that work is out there for everyone if they’re willing to change. If you’re willing to try anything. I’m here to say I tried everything and there was no room at the inn for me.

Luckily I threw out my fears with my resume in the overfilled recycling bin, and handed my future over to the universe. Good things have happened and I’m fortunate. Not the same for several of my far more interesting and accomplished friends.

Friend one is a contractor and completely brilliant at everything she does. She has been working in the top levels of management for various financial institutions for years. Not only brilliant, but a team player and inspiration.

Very recently she was ‘‘disestablished’’ by her current financial institution due to a rejigging of the structure, by another team member, who has put herself firmly in, and chucked my friend firmly out, via an HR magical sleight of hand trick.

My friend is devastated but soldiering on and still suiting up and showing up. ‘‘Disestablished’’ is such a cock and bull term. It’s so Aldous Huxley Brave New World. It’s so dystopian. So Orwellian in its clinical finality.

Sometimes I wonder if HR is the new dark art. It seems everyone now has to cover their tracks so carefully that no-one trusts anyone, and noone knows the truth about anything in the workplace except HR. It’s like this God almighty secret Illuminati type affair where they hold the keys to the gates of unemployment and no-one else has any idea what the hell is going on.

Managers are afraid of workers. Workers are afraid of managers, and we’re all afraid of the team in HR. Being called in to an HR meeting is the equivalent to being called out in class to go to the dental nurse. Summoned to The Murder House, my friend Karen (but she’s not one) is disestablished and now frantically looking for any work she can get.

Nonna is an incredibly welleducated woman with degrees in things that matter. She is bilingual, draws focus with her power to orate, and commands respect and attention simply by being present. She has a colourful past which only makes her way more interesting and understanding in a work place.

She moved to Wellington to further her career. Despite also applying for every job she’s both qualified for, and seriously overqualified for, she has had one interview, and presently lives in a wardrobe at someone else’s flat. As of last night she had only a hefty overdraft and two oranges.

I see people working. People with real jobs, and even more so when I had no jobs at all I was astonished by them. It was a mix of shock and feeling lost in a world that appears to be carrying on.

I wonder if everyone is aware that so many people are being weeded out of positions up and down the food chain.

Lionesses and gazelles alike are losing their jobs, or rather being ‘‘disestablished’’ and ignored. Where will it end? Is it going to end up last man standing?

Or even weirder, are companies going to have one worker, one cleaner and a team of sixty in HR.

It’s a conspiracy theory sure, but I’m fairly sure one day soon we’ll see HR teams in uniforms with dude arms.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Managers are afraid of workers. Workers are afraid of managers, and we’re all afraid of the team in HR. Being called in to an HR meeting is the equivalent to being called out in class to go to the dental nurse.