Like Weeds Growing in the Sidewalk
Millennials’ economic hardship May Just Result in a Better Future
By Jessica Pierotti
In June of 2010 I completed my undergraduate degree in Rochester, NY, packed a Uhaul, and drove the ten hours to Chicago. This was my first move as an adult that was not dictated, at least not directly, by exterior forces. The move represented a new level of independence, and the city–an expanse of opportunities. I enthusiastically started a folder on my desktop titled “FUTURE - CHICAGO,” to house all my documents and plans and endless job applications.
Entering the workforce, like many Millennials, at the tail end of the Great Recession, meant that the expanse of opportunities turned out to be a cardboard cutout of a vista, and my first job in Chicago was as a temp convention center barista. It’s been a little over a decade, and I feel once again like I’m diving headfirst into something unknown. Unfortunately, this time with a very different ratio of terror to excitement, a few more grey hairs, and a lot less naiveté.
Millennials in a Pandemic
As of mid-December, we will have reached nine months in isolation. After cycling through the phases of grief a few times, many of us have started to contend with adapting, accepting, and planning for what comes next. My friends and family talk more and more in the future tense–trying to shake out the many hypotheticals, and brainstorm some potential responses. We are floating proposals of returning to school, shifting to new fields, or heading back to old ones. Meanwhile, the November election, recent COVID spike, holidays, and dropping temperatures have created a wave of malaise and exhaustion. The government's failure to act decisively, compounded with the ongoing financial and emotional stress of this pandemic, has led to the development of two primary camps–denial and deep cynicism.
The vaccine rollout is now underway and sparking some optimism, but we shouldn’t expect vaccinations to reach the general population under 65 until May or June. That’s a guaranteed six more months of social distancing, isolation, and economic impact. It won’t be the flip of a switch, but rather, a painstakingly slow process. Recovery may drag out even longer if the virus continues to mutate, if a significant portion of Americans refuse to take the vaccine, or if logistical issues arise with roll-out. For many of us there will not be a return to normal either way, there will not be a revival of the same economic landscape that existed in March of 2020. We can not expect to step back onto the same path our careers were traveling down; and perhaps we wouldn’t want to anyway, as we collectively reevaluate the politics of our labor and our lives during this period of disruption.
Of course there are aspects of the economy, and therefore some people’s lives, that are maintaining stability through the pandemic. But my network mostly consists of Millennial creatives, educators, and service industry folks, that have been, and will continue to be, deeply impacted. Our “normal” seems long dead already. With that in mind, myself and many others are trying to think critically, evade denial or hopelessness, and collectively forge a path towards some sense of stability and meaning, in the short-term and long-term.
Speaking about a generation as a whole can be problematic, because as we know, no demographic group is a monolith. There are many subsets within a generation that make one's experiences and challenges distinct. Nonetheless, there is a collective experience within an American generation that is unique from past and future generations, and is worthy of reflection and analysis. Millennials are now the largest generation in the United States, surpassing Boomers. Like many Millennials, I graduated from college and/or entered the workforce at the tail end of the Great Recession that began in 2007. This generation has been impacted by the recession itself, but also by steadily increasing tuition prices (student debt at public universities doubled from 1996 to 2006), and the steady decline in stable middle-class jobs. Most Millennials have an astounding amount of debt, little savings or property, and little stability in the way of 401(k)’s, retirement plans, or general job security. In an Atlantic piece woefully titled, Millennials Don’t Stand a Chance, the conditions were scathingly summarized:
"The Millennials were left with scars during the Great Recession that never quite healed, and inherited an economy structured to manufacture precarity for the young and the poor and black and brown, and to perpetuate wealth for the old and the rich and white.”
Though you could argue that the economy has always been structured this way, according to the Pew Research Center, income inequality has more than doubled over the last 30 years, and the only group that has gained wealth since the Great Recession is the top 20%. Meanwhile worker’s rights have been eroded by the gig economy driven by tech start-up disruption, and the decline of labor unions.
Often working within the gig economy, or piecing together multiple avenues of income, Millennials have been hustling, buying into productivity propaganda, and competing with one another for scarce opportunities. Productivity has taken priority over health and happiness until the Pandemic laid bare the mythology of American meritocracy. Currently aged approximately 24 to 39 years, millennials are at the point in their lives and careers when one traditionally starts making plans for families, property, and setting down roots. This generation, in their peak years of earning potential, is now paralyzed once again by the COVID-19 Pandemic and the correlating financial crisis.
American Millennials are done trying to “catch up” to previous generations, or expecting to have the same opportunities. They haven’t, and they won’t. It’s absurd to continue to buy into an outdated 1950s model of life–work hard, climb the ladder, be a good consumer, then buy a house and settle down to a family. Just as culturally embedded misogyny and structural racism constantly influence our thoughts and behaviors, we have all been indoctrinated by the narrative of the American Dream and bootstrapping ideology. In a post-COVID world we need to throw out the rule book and figure out our actual needs and desires. Millennials are in a unique position, involuntarily forced to rethink careers and values, at a crucial time in their lives.
The Economic Picture
Moving forward we should expect a sluggish economic recovery spanning several years as the best case scenario. Although we have seen the economy rebound dramatically from the almost complete shut down of March and April, we are still far from stable, with job growth slowing to a trickle since August. In October, the national unemployment rate was 6.9% (or 11.1 million people), down from the peak of 14.7% in April, while large cities have maintained higher rates than the national average–at 10.8% this September in Chicago, and 13.1% for October in NYC.
Image Credit: NY Times - “Further Slowdown in Job Creation Sets Off Economic Alarms”
The disparity between American economies state to state, city to city, results in distinct economic consequences across the nation. Additionally, the national unemployment numbers are structured to consistently undercount and ignore certain aspects of the population. 6.7 million people are estimated to be unwillingly "part-time employed due to economic reasons,” and another 6.7 million people were out of work in October, but were not counted into the unemployment rate because they were not actively looking for work. Unemployment is also hitting women much harder, as a higher percentage were working within service and hospitality sectors, and/or were forced to leave the workforce to handle child care, home schooling, and elderly family. This could have significant long-term impact on the careers and earnings of women going forward.
Compared to the Great Recession that spread its impact across the population, the economic impact of the COVID Pandemic has been much more siloed. The most severely affected being hospitality, service industry, entertainment, and travel, as well as almost any small business unable to transition and compete online. These industries disproportionately employ Millennials, Gen Z, BIPOC and women, of which a higher percentage were already low-income before the pandemic. In addition, BIPOC communities have been harder hit by COVID itself, seeing much higher rates of infection and death. Unfortunately, the fragmented nature of this impact allows for greater apathy amongst those less harmed, while those most harmed lack the political power to demand appropriate aid.
Economic instability may be contained to certain sectors and demographics for now, especially since there are stimulus and aid packages shoring up many citizens; but we can expect to see containment breakdown as the pandemic drags on, and if the new administration fails to act quickly to support American workers and small businesses. Even if we start to see a slow transition back to the old way of life, the economic impact of the pandemic on disposable income, lingering COVID anxiety, and sustained high unemployment will result in slow growth in restaurants, tourism and travel. Many independent and small businesses, often the ones with the best culture and labor practices, will have closed for good, and will not be able to reopen without significant state and federal stimulus. There will be less jobs available within the service industry and a huge pool of eligible workers, making these jobs exponentially more competitive and resulting in sustained high unemployment rates in cities like Chicago throughout 2021.
The other sectors I am personally experienced with--nonprofit arts organizations and higher education–were both fiercely competitive and underpaid well before COVID hit. Now, schools and nonprofits are tightening their belts, freezing hiring, and increasing workloads for current employees. Many organizations took a big hit with the cancellation of income-generating events or fundraisers, the need for investments in new technologies for remote work, and other COVID related costs. Although the vaccine may lead to a resurgence of stability, growth will be a conservative and slow process. Meanwhile, the already exploitative labor dynamic in these fields will not voluntarily be improved while there is a large and increasingly desperate pool of labor available to take any offer on the table. This scenario logically translates to many other highly competitive creative fields.
The economic hit we are taking has been aggravated by political gridlock in Congress, misuse of PPP loans, and the prioritizing of short-term economic gains over the long-term health and safety of U.S. citizens. Unemployment, unemployment expansions, eviction moratoriums, and student loan and mortgage payment freezes have been crucial in maintaining consumer spending and keeping citizens housed and fed. But as we approach the end of the year many of these temporary measures will be expiring. The current aid package under discussion would provide $908 billion in aid, versus the $2.2 trillion dollar CARES Act from March, and the $3 trillion dollar HEROES Act from May. The New York Times has been critical of the current aid package stating flatly, "A plan of that size would fall short of doing everything that economists argue Congress should do to help workers and businesses during the coronavirus pandemic.” The choices our representatives make now will dictate how quickly or slowly we can rebuild in 2021 and beyond, and it looks like they will continue to fail to act boldly, decisively, or morally to support those most impacted.
Moving Forward, Making Plans
As we stare down the barrel of a lengthy period of economic and political instability, we should take this time to reflect and consider not just how we can survive, but what we do for work, how we do it, and how we live outside of it, in a way that aligns with our values, our needs, and those of our communities. Currently those most harmed by the economic effects of COVID may be those with the least political power–compared to the influence of corporate interests, big-tech and the wealthiest 10%–but we have an opportunity to shift power through strategic and collective action.
In the 2007 recession there was a significant spike in college enrollment--people hid in academia, upped degree levels, and took on astounding amounts of debt, in the hopes that they could wait out the storm while also leveling up their value. There may be a swell like this in the coming years, though how beneficial it will be is unclear. After the recession there was significant credential inflation, resulting in increased degree requirements for jobs and reduced value for lower degrees, and therefore little increase in opportunity or income for degree holders. Returning to school may be an excellent path for some, but it should be coordinated with demand for student debt relief, student loan reform, and the restructuring of labor within these institutions.
Many Millennials may choose to pivot towards work that better embodies their values and more greatly benefits their communities; health care, mental health care, social work, or non-profit work for example. Considering the already drawn-out battle with COVID, accompanied by expanded poverty and unemployment, and our collectively declining mental health under the strain of the pandemic, we can expect demand for workers in these fields to remain high. Those that have already become more politically activated or radicalized–through COVID and the summer of protests for BLM, prison abolition, police abolition, and workers’ rights–may shift into careers focused on political organizing, grassroots work, or could possibly become a fresh crop of promising political candidates. Being confronted by our mortality, and the fragility of our society has thrown into relief some of the more meaningless expressions of our labor. A post-COVID job market has the potential to be more values-driven and worker-centered than ever before.
Others may not be making drastic changes or pivoting in new directions, but will instead be changing how they work and what they expect from their employers. What do you miss and not miss about your job, career, or work environment? How are you cared for or exploited? What kind of mobility do you have? How are you growing and what are you learning? How does your work help or harm your community? We must think about what employment options will even be available, but also consider what we want to start saying “no” to. Many of us have endured a range of unhealthy conditions in our work environments that this societal rupture has made more glaringly obvious--from the abuses of workers in Amazon distribution facilites, to white supremacist culture within art institutions, to the basic lack of respect and workplace cultures built on competition and scarcity.
How do we rebuild a different version of life? How do we foster respect and value for our labor? How do we retain the slower pace and reduced consumption that we've developed through this period of time in isolation?
Adaptation
With disruption comes adaptation, 'change-pain-growth' as they say. There’s a certain amount of liberation that comes with recognizing the ladder is gone, the American Dream revealed as just another cardboard cutout of a mountain range.
Millennials are the freelancers, the contract workers, the 1099-ers, the gig economy. We have eked out a living through a weird collaging of incomes, like weeds growing in the sidewalk, so I believe in our adaptability. But this time we need to work together to stand up against the exploitation of our labor rather than being complicit in it. Organize unions, participate in strikes, listen to and support teachers, doctors, nurses, and service industry workers. We need to adapt and become a new workforce, and make our employers adapt to us. What are our expectations and hopes for the future if we have an opportunity to restructure amidst this disruption?
While the creature comforts of middle-class success have often moved previous generations further to the right as they age, the constant upheaval Millennials and the following, Gen Z, have experienced may be the key ingredient in maintaining and growing progressive power in the coming decades. We need to work together to push for student debt cancellation, Medicaid for all, environmental justice, and expanded workers’ rights. We need to maximize our political power alongside Gen Z as we collectively become the most diverse and largest bloc of voters in the U.S. Moving forward, what do we want beyond a steady paycheck? What do we want to keep from our old lives and what do we want to leave behind?
The future is daunting and incredibly uncertain at the moment, but this cuts both ways. If it is undefined then we have the capacity to shape it. Our vulnerability allows for our empathy, generosity, and compassion to grow. What if we can redefine our generation as one centered on care, not competition.