Job hunting blues

I’m putting my feelers out in the job market (in my case it’s journalism) and it’s thoroughly depressing. No one expects it to be easy. I am generally a realist and I know that these things don’t just happen – unless you are extremely lucky or have the right contacts (which is another issue altogether).

What is annoying me the most is the amount of internships that are sneaking in under the guise of being ‘graduate’ or ‘trainee’ jobs. They are distinctly not jobs or even remotely job-like. There are exceptions of course, and I know this is idealistic but jobs should:
1) Pay a living wage so people can pay their rent, bills, buy food, etc.
2) Make people feel valued and like they are part of something bigger and meaningful.
3) Make the most of individuals’ assets; knowledge, skills and personality.

Internships generally don’t pay. Interns are rarely thanked or appreciated. And interns are usually to be seen tucked away in the corner, making coffee and tea, lugging boxes around, painstakingly archiving 8 years’ worth of weekly newspapers that nobody will ever refer back to, or rehashing press releases. This is not always the case, but it usually is. If the interns are proactive and ask the right person, they might get lucky and be given the opportunity to work in other departments in the publication. They might be asked to write for the website, or source pictures, or help another journalist with research. They might get bored and chat to a member of staff who turns out to be the best contact they’ll ever have. But it’s not guaranteed that they will actually do anything worthwhile, or at all linked to what they want to do – and it’s this kind of manipulation that is a big issue. Yes, it looks great on your CV but what can you really say about it in an interview other than “I made tea for the editor”?

Internships are slave labour nicely wrapped up in this fallacy that if you work hard enough then you will get a job for your effort. This used to be the case – you could work somewhere for free for a fortnight and then perhaps get a job offer – but it isn’t anymore. Companies are using the current climate – and consequent desperation of those who are unemployed – to their advantage. They are the ones who win out in the end. They get the work done, and I’m not sure they much care who does it as long as it is someone who proves they are sufficiently desperate or interested enough to do whatever tasks are casually thrown their way. I have heard a lot of stories of interns being asked to do work which is entirely inappropriate – or even unsafe! – which was not agreed in the ad for the internship.

Another issue is that internships are rarely paid, and only occasionally do they even pay expenses. So interns end up out of pocket. This excludes an entire group of people who aren’t lucky enough to live in London (where most of these kinds of opportunities are), have parents who support them or… You know, have a money tree growing in their back garden.

I personally am fortunate enough to both live in London, and have parents who can support me financially until I am able to myself. I have already carried out a lot of work experience, and I realise I may have to do a lot more. But I feel truly sorry for those who have been totally excluded and prevented from these sorts of opportunities simply because they genuinely can’t afford the travel, accommodation, or perhaps even the time off work, to do the kind of work that is generally accepted as ‘the best way in’.

I am a realist, and I understand it’s difficult. I don’t expect the moon on a stick, straight after leaving university. But I wish that the system was fairer; that companies were forced to pay expenses at least; that there was a time limit to how long you could be forced to work for nothing; that there was a way of holding those companies that don’t comply with the law, to account – other than exposing them on blogs or in the media. I’ve come across a lot of internships today that are in the ‘graduates’ or ‘trainees’ section – and it’s utter poppycock.

Reporting the protests

In the wake of the student protest earlier this month there have been journalists left and right (quite literally) condemning, agreeing with, or just analysing the student movement.

A post on New Left Project (NLP) about left-wing journalists potentially undermining the movement got me thinking. It is important for people to understand about why the protests are going ahead, and there will clearly be divides in how it is reported (as well as divisions threatening the development of the movement itself – but that’s another issue for another day). The main point of the argument set out in the post above was that in attempting to “add an extra layer of horror” to the actions of the police, left-wing press classifying the protestors as ‘kids’ suggests that they are naive as to what they are protesting about – lending more power to right-wing groups who dismiss protests as juvenile and borne out of boredom, not political awareness.

It’s a point well-made, and one I happen to agree with, although I couldn’t offer a satisfactory solution. What we’re seeing is that reporting of protests is being polarised into two factions. Firstly, to the left, who portray protestors as children – in the sense that it is emboldening and indicative of the times that people so young are now beginning to care – and then the right, who portray protestors as children who have no idea of why they are protesting, are politically illiterate and just out to cause trouble.

More left-wing journalists tended to take the approach of embedding themselves in the protest – most notably New Statesman writer Laurie Penny – whereas other not-so-left journalists chose to stand outside the kettling area and remark on what they could see from the edges. Hardly in-depth and thorough. It’s worth noting here that core members of the movement do not feel helpless or voiceless in the slightest – they are busy writing blog entries, networking on twitter, getting other groups involved. But they lack the audience that mainstream press can automatically count on.

However, in seeking to tell the protestors’ story in a way directly opposed to traditional press who have turned a blind eye or railed against the students, Penny perhaps risks infantalising them (although of course the term ‘children’ or ‘kids’ was used in an observational sense – children are taking part in protests; it’s a surprising and powerful thing to see) as the NLP article argues so articulately.

There are limitations and dangers as a journalist, of assuming that just because you have been there you know the ins and outs of the movement and can accurately pinpoint and describe the feelings behind it. I myself attempted this earlier, as a supporter of the movement and as a journalist – it’s extremely difficult to gauge motives of thousands of people, and speak for them all without pigeon-holing and patronising them by assuming that you understand their motives. Journalists have the greatest freedom of being able to weave in and out of organisations; to try and get to the ‘bottom of things’ and report back  on what they’ve seen – but it’s important to remember that they are ultimately outsiders. Even those who share the same beliefs as core members of movements will likely be left out of some of the proceedings, or treated with suspicion, lest they attempt to discredit the movement or interpret things entirely differently.

Of course, this shouldn’t deter journalists from attempting to discover motives and meanings of these events. After all, the demonstrators cannot do it so effectively to a broad audience themselves – though access to twitter, facebook and collective blogs is gradually changing that. However, activists still rely a large amount on journalists’ interpretations of a movement they are removed from – however close they perceive themselves to be – and whilst it can add authenticity and a credible voice, it has the potential to be the undoing of a movement.

Taking interns seriously

Success as a graduate in the current climate often depends on one thing: experience. In fact, there is so much competition for jobs in every sector that companies can sit back and wait for students to come knocking, safe in the knowledge that they will always have a position filled. Some of the companies book work experience a year in advance, such is the demand. The students themselves are falling over each other to grasp at these opportunities. And why shouldn’t they? Internships and work experience are the best way to fully understand the world of work and the specifities of a job you’re looking to get into.

The problem lies in the fact that most internships are unpaid. Not just unpaid though – no expenses are paid for travelling to and from the placement, and no lunch is paid for. Interestingly, since Universities are battling it out to stay relevant and give students what they ‘want’ – a course that guides them straight into the world of work – more degrees now require placements to be undertaken. On this course, for example, it is a requirement for entry into the second year that you undertake a fortnight of professional journalism experience. For entry into the third, the students need to have 4 more weeks under their belt.

The principle and the value of internships is brilliant, and surely helps individuals to grow both professionally and personally – but the largely-held view that ‘anyone can do it’ is simply not true. A surprising number of students at University receive no financial help from their parents or guardians – how, then, are they to afford to get to the placement? To eat lunch? Of course, lots of these students work to get the extra money. And whilst a month isn’t a lot of time in the year, for students that are working part time – juggling University, a job and a social life – a month is a huge demand on their time. It’s a month that they won’t get any payment for – in fact, a month that can turn out to be extremely expensive, especially if the placement is in London (as so many desirable placements often are). Some students have even had to leave their jobs to take on work experience just to get through their degree. Some know they can’t afford to work without expenses and simply don’t try to get work experience – and are worse off for it.

From an employer’s point of view, there is very little in the way of legislation or government intervention that says interns must be paid expenses, or even sets out rules about the treatment of interns. Of course, there are organisations like Skillset – part of the Sector Skills Council – with politely suggested work experience guidelines. One of the guidelines is that unpaid work experience should be limited to “no more than two weeks”. A delightful idea in theory but a guideline abundantly flaunted by most of, if not all companies who offer work placements. Those students who follow the guidelines and refuse to work for more than a fortnight unpaid simply won’t get the opportunities. Those who genuinely cannot afford to travel to and from work placements are being held back by their financial status. God forbid they ask for some compensation for their hard work . This isn’t a problem for employers though – there are plenty of others who are desperate enough.

Students should expect a fair deal when it comes to trying to further their career, but it seems this is a vain hope. Even in Parliament, MPs depend on unpaid interns, worth up to “£5m a year” . Disgusting? Yes. Unsurprising? Not really. The picture is just as bleak across the board. Young people are being forced into internships through a lacklustre job market, increasing competition and increasing demand from degree courses. Even then, after perhaps working for months for free, they have absolutely no guarantee and little hope of getting a foot on the career ladder. We need legislation to protect youngsters from exploitation so early in their career, and we need it desperately.

Dayx3: The Protest

I leave home quite early, in time to get to the UCL Occupation (lest they leave without me!) The room is packed, and protestors are being briefed about what they can expect on the day. Everyone writes two numbers on their arm – one is the number of a lawyer, and the other is the number of someone from a handful of people who will be manning HQ at UCL. If we get lost, ring someone at UCL. If we get arrested, ring the lawyer. I’m emboldened by the fact that there is a great support network, though slightly worried I may get entangled in an argument with police and end up being lead off and handcuffed. Being arrested would be somewhat of an inconvenience given that I need to be at a dinner in Bournemouth in the evening!

We leave the UCL quad jubilant and positive about the march ahead. A, who I met on Wednesday, manages to find me amongst the crowd, much to my delight – at least I won’t be alone! We follow the march around the corner to ULU, where the Socialists’ Worker’s are handing out placards with “Bring Down the Government” written on them. I spot a group of students banging plastic milk bottles, Rose tins and anything else they could get their hands on, in an attempt to bring a rhythm to the chanting. It’s a fun, exciting crowd.

Protestors bring objects to use as instruments during the march

We walk further along and settle in the crowd near two older women. They are both studying. One, 63 years old, who studies art at London Metropolitan University says to me: “This whole agenda is about capitalism, and the more we do to get rid of it the better. This is just the beginning.”

Behind us, a 63 year old man stands alone, holding a banner stating: “You KNOW it’s wrong. Vote principles, not party.” He tells me: “I think education should be free, like it was for me when I was younger. I’m here fighting against the cuts and in support of students.” They are not the only non-students there. To my left I can see a young family. The parents are concerned about the future of their child.

We get word that police officers may be attempting to kettle us here. In the confusion, we are not sure what is happening, but we warn a lady in a motorised wheelchair to move out of the crowd and onto the pavement. A man around 60 holds a megaphone and is talking as he walks through the crowd. He turns to the police on the sidewalk: “A word of advice for you. It’s not good to be on the wrong side of a revolution.”

Fires burn in front of Parliament

We make our way through the crowd in time to see some speakers on the corner of Malet Street. The speakers make the crowd roar with the end of every sentence. Suddenly, a student grabs the microphone: “Enough talk! Let’s march!” a roar of approval goes up from the audience, but we are told: “We need to wait for more people. We need to have as many people as possible and we will march as one.”

Clare Solomon takes to the microphone. Clare is a well-known supporter of direct action, and as far as I can tell, people in the crowd know and respect her. “We will NOT be contained, detained, or kettled again!” she says, to a delighted crowd:

Finally, we march! It’s all very uneventful, with various chants going up, until we reach Leicester Square. I notice that the police officers are quickly walking through the crowd in one line, and I’m suspicious and eager to get to the front. Eventually, A and I break into a run, causing other protestors to run, and then the police. It’s clear they are intent on breaking up groups, preventing us from getting to Parliament. Thankfully, A and I outrun the police, as does Laurie Penny, who I can see just in front of me. I turn around and find a line of policemen hitting protestors with batons. There’s no logical reason for this that I can figure out.

Eventually the crowd breaks through the line and we go off into a side street. Again, the police start walking quickly up the sides. Twice, I get pushed by a police officer shouting “MOVE!” People notice the police creeping up the sides and as a group, we break into a run. By this time I’m too tired and I give up. Some protestors are still running ahead of me, shouting angrily, as they suspect that the police have contained us in this small side street. Have we been kettled? Nobody is sure. But people are livid and screaming about their right to protest. A chant of “Whose streets?! Our streets!” goes up. Somehow, after the confusion, we are allowed to continue on through the back streets of Covent Garden.

Protestors leave smouldering placards and signs

We get to Trafalgar Square and meet another surge of protestors from the main route. There’s a huge crowd here and the march has slowed. We’re not sure why until we reach the edges – there is a line of mounted police blocking off Whitehall. Undeterred, the movement moves around the edges down Pall Mall.

At this point, we see FIT officers, and A turns to me: “I have a spare scarf. You need to use it. FIT are here” I don the scarf, looking like I’m about to mug someone’s gran, but nonetheless hopeful that I am less likely to end up being photographed by police and arrested, simply for being at a protest. Before I read FITwatch I had no idea why protestors covered their faces in scarves unless they were criminals – and now I fully understand. They don’t want to be arrested or incriminated for doing nothing wrong.

We arrive at Parliament and suddenly no one seems to know what to do. A few fires are lit, and placards are burnt, but largely there’s a big sense of “Now what?” We walk towards Whitehall and find 10-15 police holding riot gear helmets. I find the man whose photo I took at the November 10th demonstration. He’s campaigning for his 15-year-old grandson. I check twitter and find that someone has tweeted something about the police being “too quiet”, and they’re right – it’s suspicious, given their behaviour earlier on in the day.

Riot vans line up along Whitehall

After quite a while of hanging about, we watch two sets of police running from different directions. We suspect they are moving in to kettle protestors – though there is no clear purpose to us – and we are luckily on the other side.

By this time it was time for me to leave for Bournemouth. As I walk down Whitehall to find a tube station, I spot 13 riot vans along Whitehall, all containing about 6 police officers. Protestors are being encouraged to flow into Whitehall but I’m worried that they will be greeted with heavy-handed police.

Tired, with sore feet and a heavy heart, I leave. I check twitter as often as my phone and the network will allow, and I keep hearing reports of horrendous things going on.

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Sadly I had to leave early. Over the last few days, a lot of new information has come out about what happened on Thursday. Serving members of the police have mocked protestors and called for the use of water cannons in future protests. Journalists have been hurt. A protestor required emergency brain surgery. A protestor in a wheelchair was allegedly dragged out of it by the police.

But I don’t think even all this controversy is enough to deter protestors. As many people said to me during the protest, and afterwards – “This is just the beginning.”

Occupied: A Day at the UCL Occupation

RIP Education banner outside the Jeremy Bentham Room

I decided to visit the UCL Occupation during my stay in London. Twitter has been afire with news of this group of students who have occupied the Jeremy Bentham Room in University College London. Observers were amazed and impressed by the way they had conducted themselves during their 2-week stay, and I wanted to see for myself.

I head to Goodge Street to meet someone I had spoken to on Twitter just hours before. For the sake of anonymity, I’ll call him A. He’s a student at a college round the corner from UCL and he’s wanted to go since he heard about the occupation starting, but never got the chance.

There are 20-30 people in the occupation, all busy making banners, listening to speeches, blogging, tweeting and facebooking. There’s a group of dedicated ‘tech’ people, the ‘social media’ table… Research. Video Editing. Press. Every department you would expect to see in a big company is here – each with a designated table and a small team to work on it. I ask several people, ‘Who organised the occupation?’ and unanimously and without hesitance, the response is that they all did.

Just outside the Jeremy Bentham Room, is a shrine – ‘RIP Education’. Across the walls along the corridors, and all over the room, messages and images of inspiration and encouragement are pinned up. There’s a huge legal advice banner at the front with lawyers’ contact details. A huge projector screen is at the front – it’s connected to a computer in the ‘tech’ centre, and shows the latest tweets to the UCL Occupation account. A National Campaign Against Fees and Cuts banner proudly sits below the projector screen – there is no sign of any support for the National Union of Students here, not since President Aaron Porter promised help to the occupiers and then refused to deliver.

Graffiti scrawled on a wall in the UCL campus

Someone has invited esteemed Independent journalist Johann Hari to give a talk to students. Johann talks about several ‘mission impossibles’ that ordinary people have overcome through the power of protesting. At the first Gay Pride, people were arrested – now look at how it has grown. These are inspiring, says Johann, and students should not feel despondant about the massive challenge ahead.

Immediately after Johann’s speech, someone stands up: “We need some people to go to Camden School for Girls now. They’ve had the police called on them and they’re very worried.” They have organised a 24 hour sit-in and have been threatened with police action. A few minutes later, a group of us leave to go there. There’s more running involved in this than I would like. We arrive to find a crowd of students outside, and security blocking the gate into the school.

Tasha, a 16 year old student at the school, tells me about what inspired the sixth-formers to occupy it for 24 hours: “A lot of us have been to the UCL Occupation quite a lot and we saw how great it was, how co-ordinated it was and we know loads of people there and it was just an inspiration.” After hanging around for about an hour, with UCL Occupation students offering support, they realise there is nothing they can do and their presence may even be undermining the sit-in. We leave the school, and the girls are told that if they come into any trouble to ring again for support.

Two hours later, at about ten to five, a group from the occupation gather together to go to Euston Station for a ‘flash mob’. We’re not quite sure what we are supposed to be doing at this one – famous flash mobs include hundreds of people singing Hey Jude in Trafalgar Square or the freeze-mob at Grand Central.

Protestors with a banner at Euston Station

We stop just outside Euston Station for a quick briefing: “The place is swarming with police. We can’t go in as one group, so pick a group, stay with them and don’t look like you recognise anyone else.” We split off. I’m with A, and we find ourselves in a group with another journalist, and go inside the station. Police officers are walking around the station in pairs, some with dogs. They’re not sure what to expect. We’re handed a mock newspaper – the Evening Substandard – and we’re told to wave it around during the lectures. After ten minutes of waiting, a cheer goes up from under the departure screens and we run over to see what’s happened.

Hundreds of people sit, kneel, crouch on the floor. More are standing at the back, as speaker after speaker gives a speech in front of banners with ‘Free Education Zone’ and ‘Education is a right’. Members of the public are invited to come up and speak, and a couple do so, giving their wholehearted support to the students and praising them for their actions. The police are bewildered, but I suspect, pleasantly surprised that this is all that was planned.

As the flash mob disperses, a group of 6 drummers emerge and begin drumming, attracting attention from police officers in the station. They direct the drummers and the crowd outside, telling them, “You can drum to your heart’s content, as long as you are beyond the glass doors.” Along the way out, protestors and passersby dance to the beat.

I briefly speak to Jasper, from the School of Oriental and African Studies. He’s been lecturing at the front, and I’m amazed that the flash mob was co-ordinated so successfully. “It’s great isn’t it?” he beams, before joining his friends dancing and chanting along to the beat of the drums. Passersby join in – one gives their child to a student to hold on their shoulders for a while.

Gradually, after the drum beats fade into the hum-drum of a busy London station, everyone leaves, jubilant and positive. It’s been a long day, and they have a lot to plan for tomorrow – the ‘Day X’ protest in London.