This week, I filed for unemployment on a computer that I own, using internet access that is speedy and reliable. Not everyone can afford this.
Due to fraud protection regulations recently enacted by those in power, I then had to drive to the unemployment office to confirm my application. Thankfully, I own a car. It runs well, and there was gas in the tank, which meant I could make the trip.
Once my application was completed and “in the system,” my identity needed to be confirmed. I had my driver’s license and my passport ready to go, but the state workers were unable to sign off on this step. Instead, they had me print a barcode on a sheet of paper, take it to the local post office and have one of their clerks confirm that I am… well, me.
I got back in my car and drove across town. At the post office, the clerk scanned my bar code, glanced at my ID and said, yes, you exist and are a person. Confirmation will reportedly arrive in my email inbox later.
Now I have to wait two weeks for my first check to arrive. Even though I have already searched for jobs (58 attempts this week alone), it won’t count in the system. However, I have savings in the bank and a kitchen full of food so not receiving new income for a while won’t kill us.
Sometime this month, the state will also require that I return to the unemployment office for a meeting to discuss the process of filing for unemployment and what is expected of me to continue receiving weekly checks of $387. Although I’ve attended this meeting twice in the past 15 years, I must do it again.
What if I didn’t have access to a computer or couldn’t afford Wi-Fi? Free computers with internet access are available at the unemployment office and public library — thank goodness! — but I’d still need to find a way to get there. What if I didn’t own a reliable form of transportation or couldn’t drive? Even in a small city, public transportation options are limited. What if I didn’t have savings to survive on or hadn’t stockpiled food for a rainy day? Would I just go hungry for two weeks? What if I had to pay for child care every time I needed to jump through one of these hoops?
In a society that prioritizes enacting fraud prevention over helping people live a life where committing fraud is unthinkable, I’m constantly reminded of how privileged I am. Because I have a roof over my head, food in the house, some money in the bank and a car in the garage, the whole process of obtaining unemployment was time-consuming and annoying. Yet, if I didn’t have these advantages, each hoop might feel impossible to jump through.
2 Comments
Courtney Mroch
Jade, thank you for sharing this. I had no idea so much hoop-jumping would be involved in applying for unemployment! Very shocking to read on multiple levels. Yet, I also admire it inspired the writer in you to document it.
Also, besides helping finding you a new job, is there anything else I can do? Anything you need? If so, you have my email. Just shout. Happy to help.
Jade Walker
I imagine that a lot of people are embarrassed about applying for unemployment — and thus the hoops are rarely discussed. Light knows I felt horribly shamed the first time I had to do it. My dad had drilled into me that doing so was basically the same as going on welfare, so getting laid off (through no fault of my own) and applying for this small check felt utterly humiliating. Then a kind friend explained that I wasn’t becoming a drain on society; I was just receiving help, and that the assistance had already been paid in the form of taxes. That knowledge allowed me to focus on moving forward.
Also, thank you for the kind offer. I’ll let you know if anything comes up!