Layoffs are a part of life right now. You’ve either been laid off recently, or you know someone who is suffering through job loss. It’s hard to know what to do or say when you or a colleague hear the words, “Today is your last day with our company.”
A few years ago, I was unexpectedly let go from a job without explanation while I was on vacation. In a Zoom call that took less than five minutes, my life was upended. I spent the rest of my vacation feeling bewildered, nauseated, and angry. Mostly, I was embarrassed that I was wearing a baseball cap, no makeup, and a bathing suit under a sweatshirt when I heard that my time with the company was ending. Talk about humiliating, bitchachos.
I’ve had a lot of “firsts” in my digital content career, but I have to say that my first corporate layoff taught me lessons I didn’t even know I needed to learn. I had friends and colleagues lift me up in ways I never expected. I learned hard lessons about who was really in my corner during my darkest professional days.
After surviving not one, not two, but THREE (yes, really) layoffs in three yeads, here’s what I know:
1. Job loss is not a vacation. Full stop.
Finding a new job after a layoff or termination is a full-time job. Period. It’s career coaches and resume building and personality assessments. It’s scouring LinkedIn, Indeed, and every other possible avenue to find a role that fits your family’s financial needs and your work-life balance. It’s sleepless nights worrying about COBRA and mortgage payments. It’s long, empty days of waiting for responses to job interviews and application submissions. Never tell a friend going through job loss that you envy their “time off.” I can guarantee you that your displaced friend would trade places with you in a heartbeat.
2. Reach out to your displaced colleague or friend in the immediate aftermath of a layoff, even if it feels awkward.
When layoffs happen, the displaced employee feels immediately orphaned and excommunicated. Send a text, LinkedIn message, or personal email as soon as you hear the news. You may not get a response right away but trust me: your colleague will appreciate hearing from you during their worst professional moment.
3. Open up your Rolodex. Don’t be shy. Yes, I said Rolodex. Shut up.
Your professional friends trust you. They know you are not about bullshit when it comes to recommendations or references. In short, sharing is caring. If you can connect a displaced employee with a contact, do it. Whether you connect your friend or colleague with a professional contact or you pave the way for a resume to land in front of the right eyes, that displaced employee will remember that kindness forever. And if you ever find yourself suddenly in the job market, you’ll be glad you shared professional love.
4. Flowers are good. Food is better. A face-to-face session is best.
Losing a job is like grieving a death. The simplest tasks feel insurmountable. Dinner is hard. Send your displaced colleague or friend dinner or flowers, or socks from your favorite online shop. Send a signal that says, “Life sucks. Here are some warm Crumbl cookies to get you through.” Better yet? Schedule some Zoom time with the colleague who could really use a meeting on the calendar.
5. Don’t say phrases like “You’ll land on your feet!”
While well-intentioned, the phrase “You’ll land on your feet!” implies that you are off the hook for helping your friend land an interview or job prospect. When people said those words to me, I’d immediately hear, “I don’t want to get involved with your job crisis.” Frankly, in the first few weeks of a devastating job loss, landing “on your feet” feels more like your feet are jumping into the job market with cement blocks in a vat of peanut butter. Instead, try saying, “How can I help you find your next opportunity?”
6. If you are doing the firing, use. your. camera.
If you had the audacity to Slack your direct report at 2 am as a manager, you can have the decency to say goodbye eye-to-eye. Turn the camera on. Hard stop. Yes, I speak from experience. And yes, it’s just as humiliating as it sounds, especially while wearing a ballcap and sweatshirt. Being the “manager who fires people without a Zoom camera” is not a skill anyone will endorse on LinkedIn, trust.
As of this writing, I am staring at yet another layoff from a job I dearly loved. No, I didn’t see it coming. No, I don’t know what’s next. And while it feels daunting and exhausting to yet again have to activate my network to find my next role, I feel settled in a way I haven’t during my previous layoffs.
What I know now is that I’m exactly where I need to be for the moment.
And that feels liberating. But if someone wants to send Crumbl cookies, I won’t be mad about it.
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