A whole new world...I guess?
- Loreta Arroyo
- Aug 19, 2022
- 6 min read
I entered the workforce not knowing what to expect. A year passed and, boy, what a ride it was.
It's 12:02 AM.
I'll be graduating from college in about a month from now. The COVID-19 pandemic still plagues the Earth, and I am sitting (lying, more accurately) on my bed, with my laptop in front of me, staring at a blank browser tab. Loreta, what are you planning to do? Do you have even plans to begin with? "Hell no," I told myself. Ugh, to hell with this. I typed "LinkedIn.com" on my browser and, the next thing I knew, I've already applied for three jobs from three separate companies. Two mornings later, I've received a text from one of those companies' HR and, about a few more mornings later, I'm now signing contracts into what would be my first job.
...And that happened just over a year ago. Can you believe it's only been a year? I can't! There were a lot of things that happened in the last 13 months which made things feel like an eternity, especially if you're a Gen Z and you're from the Philippines. I know, that's a topic for a different time — maybe with a therapist? Yeah, probably.
Kidding aside, working for a little over a year made me experience things that are quite (for the lack of a better term) foreign to me. These things made me feel like I'm in a different world that exists separately from the world I was previously in, and I had no choice but to try my best to "fit in." If I didn't try, I probably won't survive. And that's putting things lightly.
So, enough chitchat. I'd like to share some of those things that surprised me in the year that I've been working.
1. I am not a "journalist" anymore
I was never a professional journalist but, in Journalism school, you have no choice but to assume to be one.
Back in college, we had a telepathic agreement of some sorts that Journalism students are always up-to-date with the news and that they would never peddle lies. Maybe in hindsight that wasn't a good practice, especially in this era of mis- and disinformation, but it was what it was. As Journalism students, we made sure that we've always read the latest news on print or on our phones even before we stepped into our classrooms. This allowed us to talk about anything and everything under the sun without thinking if we're wrong simply because we knew — as it was our practice — how and where to credibly get our information from. It was very much "trust me bro, I'm a scientist." So, when I started working and things were different, I just felt the slap of reality.
I wasn't prepared and I didn't know how to react when a coworker asked me the source of an information I shared on one of our company-wide Slack channels. The scene goes something like this: the government gave an important announcement regarding COVID-19 protocols at that time. Being the Good Samaritan that I was (read: bida-bida), I shared the said announcement, but in my own words. I shared no links to any media site whatsoever. The reply that I got was simple, yet it shook me: "can I ask for the source?"
Thinking about it now, it was a good thing that my coworker asked for the source. It meant that they wanted to make sure any information they consume is legitimate. But, during that time, I somehow felt...embarrassed. I was too full of myself in assuming that people knew me and that they had to trust whatever I say. Ever since that day, I made sure to share information as if I were sending in a research paper. Here's the brief in a few words and then here's the link for your further reading. Oh, you need more sources? Here's another link, just in case. It's easier for them to consume media and, for me, at least I'm confident that I'm working with people who know how to check their facts. It's a win-win!
2. I am not a kid anymore
Is this the real life or is this just fantasy? Answer now or life will answer for you — and you probably won't like it.
I got fairly lucky to land a job at a company that deals with a young audience (mostly Gen Z's). It was natural, then, that my coworkers are made up of young professionals who are well within the age of said audience. So, during our breaks or at any given moment where we had the leisure to share a word or two, our conversations are pretty much relatable. However, slowly, that changed.
I love the people I'm working with since it is through them where I got the fortune of peeping through what it's like to be a full-blown adult. At this age and at my current state where most of my things are still being afforded for by my parents, I can't fully claim that I know nor understand what it means to be an adult. I know there are real-world challenges that adults face — I mean, as an advocate, I have fought against pressing social issues — but it's a different story hearing them face-to-face from the people who experiences them.
Before, I've been vocal on issues like the rise in prices due to inflation, labor wages that never seem to match said inflation, and even things like the country's healthcare system. Now, I continue to be vocal about these things but I am now much more grounded, and I feel more the urgency of having to push the right people (i.e., the government that we elected) to enact reforms or laws that would alleviate or solve these issues. Hearing the word "inflation" in our classes feels nothing compared to hearing Mary Sue's (not her real name, duh) dilemma of choosing between the security of having food on their family's table for the next few weeks and sending her kids to school.
Now that I am part of the workforce, I have to consider the realities and how I might face them someday, too. I know it's very early but it's not fun and games anymore. I'm no longer in a classroom setting where society's problems are easily simulated within a three-hour lecture. Real problems affect real people who have real lives. I guess this is the side of adulting not many people talk about.
3. I am not voiceless anymore
As kids, we're often overlooked, undermined, and unheard. Being a working adult changed that for me.
It's pretty much common knowledge that I am a very loud person. I speak my mind, oftentimes without any filter. So, it's quite hard to think that Loreta was, at any given point, voiceless — but, I was. Being voiceless wasn't just inside the family. Outside, no one takes a student seriously. And I hated that.
I am the type of person who didn't want to bother my parents on things that they should probably be bothered. If there's something I have to do (e.g., doctor's appointment) or places to go (e.g., travelling to a city I've never been to), I'll do it all on my own. I'll tell my parents, for sure, but it will all be on me. However, whenever people would know that I am still a student (e.g., in restaurants, clinics, etc.), I wouldn't get the same treatment compared to if I have my parents around. Even if my ID showed that I am above 18, people are still hesitant to transact with me or even hold serious conversations with me as soon as they see the word "student" under my name.
When I started working, things changed drastically. I am now a "valued customer." When I tried to shop for clothes or makeup, I was now offered more products and not shooed away. When I asked a waiter/waitress for their menu, I'm promptly given one and not made to wait. When I submitted a complaint, I was attended to almost immediately. It's those little things that made me realize how being a working "adult" gave me a voice — a façade, at least, that I can work with. It's much easier to live and work in a society where people can see you eye-to-eye.
Do I miss being a student? Definitely. I think my life is starting to take its shape and it's starting to look like the 2004 hit movie, 13 Going on 30. When I was a student, all I want is to be a working adult (with adult money). Now that I'm a working adult, I just want to become a student (still with the adult money, though). I now I'm not alone in this feeling. Heck, I think everyone wants to go back to their youth and simply live care-free. But, times have changed and, like all things, we have to move forward and move on...even if we don't really want to.
Right now, I am overwhelmed by the thought that I have some 30+ years of work in front of me. It's daunting, that's for sure. But I don't want to let the last 13 months pass without a salute from me. It may not be a big deal for others but, hey, it's my life. I get to decide what matters. For now, it's that I did what I've done in the last 13 months — and I've done them well enough that I am proud of myself. (And that's on period.)
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