By Dana Robinson, Refinery29
I’m going to wear it. No, I’m not. I can get the job on my own. I don’t need any props. I’m smart. I’m qualified. I’m not going to wear it. I’m going to wear it.
This
is just a short sample of the internal conflict I struggled with on the
morning of a big job interview. I had been out of work for a while and
was slightly desperate for a decent salary, which is why I wore a fake
engagement ring to a job interview.
The
Great Recession hit me pretty hard. For years I toggled between
unemployment, underemployment, and full-time professional jobs that only
lasted for about a year before those companies ran out of money and
fell victim to the recession as well.
And
in between there were the job interviews — dozens of them. Professional
jobs, part-time jobs, receptionist jobs, temp jobs, you name it, I
interviewed for it. Yet a full-time position with a decent salary
continued to elude me.
Then
a disturbing interview trend began to emerge. After reviewing my resumé
and noticing that I’ve written several articles for a dating website, I
was asked point blank by potential employers whether I was married. One
interviewer had the good sense to catch himself in the midst of his
inappropriate question and implored me not to answer. But another,
undeterred by the potential threat of a lawsuit, just sat there and
waited for a response. I told her that I wasn’t married, and she seemed a
little disappointed.
They
didn’t just bring up my marital status. “And, of course, you have a
family?” a hiring manager slid into one interview. Wait. What? Was that
really a question or more of a statement? And what did that have to do
with my job qualifications? I told her that I indeed had a family — two
parents and one sister. (I’ll admit that the thinly veiled shade that I
threw in her direction just before I uttered my response probably
contributed to my not getting the job.)
It turns out that interviewers are more likely to hire people with whom they can see themselves becoming friends.
And people who are friends tend to be of the same race, gender, and
yes, marital status. Granted, I’ve been interviewed by people of every
make and model, but the fact that this marriage question kept popping up
led me to believe that some employers were viewing my single, childless
state as an odd element that they didn’t want in their offices. Was I
just focusing on something easy to obsess over? Maybe? But I can’t
imagine a hiring manager asking an 18-year-old applicant about her
family life. There was no way for me to alter my gender, race, age, or
height. My marital status seemed like the one variable that I could
control. And there’s nothing like a growing pile of bills to motivate
you to find ways to win a game whose rules you did not create. I thought
the ring might make me seem a bit more mature, more hirable, more what
employers were looking for.
I
briefly considered asking my sister if I could borrow her engagement
ring for the interview. But I was pretty sure the conversation would end
with her asking me if I’d lost my mind. So I decided to head to a
tween-centric accessories shop at a nearby mall in search of the perfect
fake ring.
The
goal was to find something very inexpensive that didn't look like I
earned it by cashing in skee-ball tickets at an arcade. I spent about 30
minutes riffling through a sea of sparkly prom barrettes, glittery
headbands, and BFF necklaces before I settled on decent-looking cubic
zirconia solitaire for $5.50. Sold!
So
there I was, being interviewed by a panel of people who were holding
the keys to a life with a steady paycheck, with a recently purchased
super cheap “engagement” ring resting awkwardly on my left-hand ring
finger.
And
then halfway through the interview, while I was reciting the reasons
why I thought I would be a really good fit for the company, it hit me:
This was stupid. Really stupid.
Riding-a-bike-in-traffic-with-your-eyes-closed stupid. The interview
felt draining to me, and not just the run-of-the-mill tired feeling that
comes along with having to be “on” when meeting potential employers. I
was drained because I had now forced myself to take on the added burden
that comes along with trying to fake it. This involved creating a
plausible engagement story (he got down on one knee in front of my
entire family on Christmas Eve) as well as an “out” if I did manage to
get the job. (If asked, I planned on telling people that I called off
the wedding and therefore was no longer wearing the ring.)
In
the end I didn’t get the job. The company ultimately decided to hire
someone who had been working in the field for 20-plus years and
essentially had a resumé that blew mine out of the water. And no one
ever mentioned the ring.
In
addition to my qualifications that weren’t quite up to par, it’s also
possible that the interviewers noticed my overall discomfort, the
underlying layer of self doubt hovering around me and perhaps that I
might have been hiding something. My “fakeness” may have been showing.
For me, faking it in life proved to be an endeavor that’s best left to professionals like Don Draper. Being myself takes just the right amount of energy and gives me a lot more free time to concentrate on, well, the real aspects of my life. It also takes less rehearsing, and it’s a lot more fun.
