I Got Laid Off. Here's How I Wish My Coworkers Would've Handled It.
Scarlett McCarthy / WNW Member
The conversation lasted less than five minutes. After four months of working remotely because of the Coronavirus pandemic, my boss politely explained that the need for an administrative assistant with reception duties had run its course. I was officially unemployed.
I had seen it coming. Most of my friends had been furloughed. And you don’t have to be an economist to know that a receptionist is pretty useless without an office to receive people in. Still, when I got the news, I didn’t feel relieved. Even when the writing's on the wall, getting dumped still feels like you’ve had your stomach removed.
I’m twenty-six, and I’ve quit enough things to know how to break up with tact. I had to write an email to the New York office that was cordial but not precious, which expressed gratitude and optimism for the future. But I also had to let them know, without saying it, that I would be fine without them.
I clicked send.
By Tuesday, a handful of messages had trickled in. One coworker suggested I join Working Not Working, another put me in touch with a copywriting friend. Others simply said they were grateful and wished the circumstances were different. But messages from the people I’d been closest to were conspicuously absent from my inbox.
Where were the people who’d stopped by my desk to chat day in and day out? Where were the emails from the editors whose sweetgreen orders I’d memorized and whose weed deliveries I’d accepted? Where was the phone call from my other boss who’d always said the New York office was a “family”?
“Where were the people who’d stopped by my desk to chat day in and day out? Where were the emails from the editors whose sweetgreen orders I’d memorized and whose weed deliveries I’d accepted? Where was the phone call from my boss who’d always said the New York office was a ‘family’?”
My construction as a totally competent assistant unraveled in the face of this indignity. But I’ve also been through enough therapy to know that I’m not responsible for other people’s actions.
So why had so few people reached out? And, more importantly, why was I so fucking bothered by it?
We live in a capitalist society that values your work first. Your job becomes your identity. In corporate America, this is expected and rewarded.
I thought I’d avoided that pattern. When people asked, I told them my job was an entry-level stepping stone to something better, that I was actually a writer. In reality, I was on the same hamster wheel as everyone else, paying my bills and self-medicating with Two Buck Chuck. The truth is that when you get laid off, you no longer know who you are.
We know what to do when people die, at least nominally. We have a structured grief process where we pay our respects, send flowers, and communally say goodbye. When people get divorced, we tell them we’re sorry, remind them that we’re here for them, and think of all the single friends we can introduce them to. But no one knows how to act when their employer lays someone off. It’s weird and confusing and awkward, and who wants to prioritize those feelings when they’re just trying to make it through the day and pay off their student loans.
But layoffs are a part of American life. And if my experience has shown me anything, there needs to be a discussion around the etiquette of layoffs. It’s time we talked about what we can do to make a coworker’s layoff as comfortable as possible. Because radio silence from people with whom you spent the majority of your waking life feels like a dismissal of your personhood.
“If my experience has shown me anything, there needs to be a discussion around the etiquette of layoffs. It’s time we talked about what we can do to make a coworker’s layoff as comfortable as possible. Because radio silence from people with whom you spent the majority of your waking life feels like a dismissal of your personhood.”
I understand why reaching out to a coworker you’ve only interacted with in a professional setting can be overwhelming. But just because conversations are awkward doesn’t mean we should avoid them. In my experience, this probably means they’re the necessary conversations to have.
Creating a more humane work culture begins with how we treat one another. Damien Birkel, the founder of Professionals in Transition, a nonprofit that provides resources and support to the unemployed, admits that “reaching out to a coworker can be both intimidating and awkward. But it is well worth the investment of your time. It requires the courage to be in the one percent of coworkers compassionate enough to pick up the phone.”
Since you never know what someone is going through post-layoff, I recommend sending an email so that the person has some control over when they read it.
Keep your messaging kind, compassionate, and succinct. You can do this by hitting these points:
Let your coworker know you enjoyed working with them.
Offer to write them a recommendation or provide feedback on their resume.
Connect them with people in your network who they could mutually benefit from.
If you were close to someone, go the extra mile and show them you’re thinking of them in the following weeks. That’s what Diana Bernal O’Leary, a job search consultant and the host of the podcast Job Talk Weekly, suggests. “Make an offer of assistance, then be proactive and follow up in 2-3 weeks. By then, your colleague will have had some time to adjust and have begun to think about their next steps. Then they can better see how you might be helpful.” Show them you haven’t forgotten they exist.
Several HR experts also recommend sending your former colleague a small gift to show your appreciation for their work. It doesn’t need to be big; a Starbucks gift card is perfectly fine. If you want to help them expand their skill set, maybe you give something more personalized, like an editing course to help them pivot to a new career. These simple gestures can go a long way in helping someone feel confident enough to feel like they can move forward.
Also, it is totally natural to experience “survivor’s guilt.” If someone else’s layoff has triggered your anxiety about being let go, it’s important to be proactive about those feelings too. Focusing on the things you can control, like revamping your resume or developing a new skill, will make you a more well-rounded employee and job candidate.
“If someone else’s layoff has triggered your anxiety about being let go, it’s important to be proactive about those feelings too. Focusing on the things you can control, like revamping your resume or developing a new skill, will make you a more well-rounded employee and job candidate.”
Long-term collaboration and connection are the heart of the creative industry. Treating our teammates with dignity, even when they’re no longer our colleagues, can only benefit company culture. But clearly, this is not the norm for most companies. We’re taught to avoid talking about our politics and our personal lives at work. When a coworker is laid off, this becomes impossible. Our personal lives are affected by our work lives and our work lives are affected by political and economic decisions. We’ve become so afraid to have awkward conversations that we choose to say nothing at all.
While you don’t have to be everything to everyone in your network, it’s human decency 101 to reach out to those you spent 40 hours a week with. Whether you’re waiting for the right words or the right time, stop waiting. Send the email. By reaching out and sharing your resources, you can make the process smoother for someone else. The industry, and your colleagues, will be better for it.
Scarlett McCarthy is a Brooklyn-based freelance content writer, screenwriter, and playwright. In January 2020, she founded Literally Broke, a personal finance platform for artists and creatives. In its first year, Literally Broke has been featured in Time, US News & World Reports, and Apartment Therapy.
Header Illustration by WNW Member Valéry Lemay, a Montréal-based Graphic Designer and Illustrator.