During my PhD time at Yale, I had a Korean colleague. He was smart, kind, and good-looking. After graduation, he found a job at Microsoft as a researcher. Three months later he was fired. He found another job at Facebook, and was fired two months later. 

He went back to Korea (for his visa had expired) and applied jobs remotely from there. It’s been a year and he is still applying. “It’s the darkest period of my life. I dread even the kindest inquiries of my friends,” he said, “At night, I couldn’t sleep. In the morning, I don’t want to get up. Every day I drag myself to the computer and send out resumes. Thousands of applications. Nothing. I have two Ivy-league degrees. Useless. It’s me, isn’t it? It’s because I’m not good enough. I was a imposter from the start.” 

He didn’t tell me this directly. I saw it on his YouTube channel. In the video, he had grown pimples on his fair skin. He didn’t reply the message I sent. 

I thought about my cousin, who studied art and worked at Baidu as a senior designer. She was fired by the time I finished my PhD. It was the same wave of big tech layoffs as in the US. For more than a year, she couldn’t find a job. Her boyfriend left her, she was severely depressed, living singly in an apartment for two. She messaged me often, even though I was late to reply. She travelled to Europe and Japan. My father spoke about these trips with derision. To them, joblessness is a vice. 

Luckily, she has now found a job, half the salary she had before. But my Korean colleague, who still hasn’t gotten back to me, is probably still trying.