“I’m Rich. My experience is in health-care services and sales and administrative management. "
“I’m Ida. I enjoy editing and public-relations work.
And so it goes around the circle at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Wilmington, Dela., where a support group for job seekers (they do not call themselves unemployed) has just convened its weekly meeting. Members range from a man who was, until recently, homeless, to an executive fired from a $250,000 job. Their “two-minute drill,” as they call their practiced introductions, “summarizes who you are professionally, what you’ve done and what you want to do,” says group leader (and my brother) Robert Bryant. “It’s what you want people to remember about you, if they mention you to someone else.”
At a similar group in New York City’s Marble Collegiate Church, leader Rosemary Corello announces a handful of job openings, mostly sent by people connected with the church. Is anyone an accountant? A person with international banking experience? An administrative assistant? Volunteers agree to call for more information.
Discussions like these can be heard in church basements and community halls all over the country, as out-of-work Americans struggle to keep up their morale. No one knows how many of these groups now exist, but observers agree that their numbers are climbing. They offer a powerful blend of job-search advice and emotional support that is all the more pointed for coming from those who struggle together. “Usually, white-collar workers have never been unemployed before,” Corello says. “In their gut, they feel that ‘it’s my fault, not the economy’s’.” Self-help circles absorb their fears and redirect them toward the world.
What do these groups talk about? How to lick a common problem, like getting to a honcho you want to see. Ways to redesign a resume for today’s market (“bank vice president” doesn’t impress; you have to present a bundle of skills). Who knows people who know people at a firm that a group member wants to talk with. At Marble Collegiate, a salesman confesses that he doesn’t know how to sell himself; the group helps him refine his approach.
Many groups invite speakers-outplacement counselors, ministers, psychologists, officials from the unemployment-insurance office. But mostly, members help each other. This mutual support relieves the stigma and isolation of joblessness, says Dr. Barrie Greiff, a psychiatrist and coauthor of “The Psychosocial Impact of Job Loss.” Just getting a job lead for a friend will make you feel competent again. Support groups can’t shield you from financial deprivation, but they buffer the perception of deprivation-a form of salvation in itself.
Groups also provide a breathing space from anxieties that may assault you at home. Many men, for example, are shocked by their perceived loss of status, especially if they’ve been using their paychecks to dominate the household, says Dr. Ellen Berman, a family therapist at the Philadelphia Psychiatric Center. An unemployed woman might not take her situation as hard (unless she’s supporting herself or a child) because she can slide into another acceptable social role-that of homemaker. But Greiff thinks this is changing now that women are investing so much more of themselves in professional achievement.
Almost no research has been done on the spouses of the unemployed. They feel the same shame, fear and loss of control that the job seeker does, yet they’re powerless to end their trials. “My friends didn’t know what to say to me, because my husband was out of work so long,” says a teacher who, for 12 months, earned the family’s sole income. (Memo to the employed: talk to your jobless friends.)
This particular wife has just helped start a spouse-support group, of which there are all too few. She found a group leader through the outplacement firm that was helping her husband. Then she got on the phone. Five women attended the first meeting. “We all need a place to talk about how scared we get on those days when our husbands are so down that they can’t get out of bed,” she says.
Unemployment terrifies children, too. You need to be positive when you explain why you lost your job, says Dr. James Garbarino, head of the Erikson Institute in Chicago. Say, “I’m proud of the work I did, but it was over.” Or, “It wasn’t the best job for me. " Still, optimism wears thin as the months drag on. “I was uptight whenever Dad had a job interview,” one seeker’s daughter says. “But I was afraid to ask about it because I didn’t want him to be upset.”
Try not to change the kids’ routine, advises Dr. Bennett Leventhal, director of child and adolescent psychiatry at the University of Chicago. Keep the same breakfast cereal, the same bedtime, the same hockey practice. Reassure them that you can afford the basics although not, perhaps, extras. Show some creativity. An accountant might offer the music teacher free tax preparation in return for continuing the piano lessons. Tell the kids how you intend to look for work. Discuss what they might say to their friends.
It’s important to celebrate Christmas or Chanukah stylishly. Even if your kids get only a book and some candy, you’ve shown them that you’re capable of keeping family life going, Leventhal says. Don’t drop your support group during the holidays. This demoralizing season of gladness is when you need friends the most.
Those starting a support group might be helped by the free outline used at Westminster Presbyterian. Write to Robert Bryant (still leading the group, although now a consulting chief executive at a small firm), 2303 West 11th St., Wilmington, Dela. 19805. Enclose a stamped, self-addressed, business-size envelope. To find an existing group, check the classified ads and ask around. Next, try the National Business Employment Weekly, found on major newsstands. The phone book might show a Forty Plus Club which-for a fee-helps middle-aged executives find jobs. The only known list of self-help clearinghouses (some of which cover the unemployed) costs $1 plus a self-addressed, stamped envelope from the National Self-Help Clearinghouse, 25 West 43rd St., Room 620, New York, N.Y. 10036. Says one seeker, “My group is a safe place to grow from.”
