A version of this post originally appeared on Oxygen Blog’s “The Zeitgeist” in 2019.
I remember the first day I got back into a newsroom – it was like being back at my college newspaper, truly one of my happy places. Newsprint has a very distinct smell, the ink specifically, and when it is piled and stacked everywhere it can have the same effect as walking into one’s favorite coffeeshop. It hits your nose, and you just perk up a little, and the buzz around you of many people all working on different parts of one specific goal gets under your skin a little bit. As enlivening and wonderful as this feels, however, being in that newsroom was not just about a higher calling to serve the fourth estate in my little corner of the world. I was, at the end of the day, in it for the paycheck. Between graduate programs and bored with my shop-job, I was so happy when the opportunity to do something I loved appeared, but precarity is a real problem. Labors of love and duty and purpose can take a long time to show dividends – if they ever do. And so, even working two jobs I needed to supplement my income, and there weren’t enough hours in the day to add yet another set-but-variable-weekly-schedule.
Adding some freelancing seemed the obvious choice. In theory, I would have control over my time, my assignments, my rates – I could decide what my time and knowledge were worth. And after all, so many people constantly seemed ready to ask questions about writing or editing or social media, or ask for favors, or a quick look at something, well, of course there was a market waiting to be tapped, right? Well, let’s just say that early-enquirers reactions to the lower end of the Freelancers’ Union’s suggested rates were as good as cold water to the face to break me out of any illusion that adding this on to the rest of my life was going to be easy. But like with anything, you have to decide what you want, and how much it matters to you – so you learn to face those moments and make the negatives, positives. You pivot; instead of trying to argue your worth, you learn to answer the “why should I pay you for something that I can do myself” with, “okay, then do it yourself.” Instead of chasing private clients, you learn how to network online and look for calls for pitches. You stop being scared of rejection, of being wrong. And for me, the biggest thing, was learning that actually, I did have things to say – things that I needed to pull out of myself after two other jobs, after long days and being devalued by others, and that writing and engaging with the world and being able to work on my own terms was a certain kind of self-care. One of the hardest things about freelancing is that it is not necessarily a cure for precarity – in some ways, the fine line between supplemental income and the gig economy, and the even finer one between the gig economy and exploitation, make you even more precarious. People don’t pay – individuals or companies, so it can become a drain on both your time and your own money chasing what is owed. You become mentally drained and exhausted because downtime from the work you do for other people starts to feel like time you should be spending working for yourself, in order to build something that gets you out of the precarity and somewhere more financially stable. While sometimes you find that moment or project that makes everything worth it, more often than not, the grind of both the 9 to 5 and the freelance hustle would just wear me down.
And yet, I would not trade it – even now, even having moved on from that life, of being torn between a shop and a newsroom and other gigs and still trying to find the time for myself. There’s something about doing a job well, doing it quickly, and cleanly, and seeing it put into the world, that is absolutely satisfying – a small way to break up the routine, a way to find a piece of satisfaction (however fleeting) in the routine of survival, a way to always, always know my own worth and that, actually, I can say know to things that don’t honor that. As the economy continues to shift to nonpermanent labor, it is really easy to be convinced that freelancers are somehow expendable because there are so many of us, that there will always be someone with a lower rate and you don’t want to lose the money. But I think that is what makes ‘making it’ whatever that means to any freelancer even better. Because when you hit your own personal metric, it has nothing to do with anyone’s standards but yours.
This piece was originally published on Medium on 25 May 2020.
Can you really be family if you need to spend time apart? I know that, at least from the reactions from the general public in the UK, and the exact points of indignation regarding the Cummings fiasco* in terms of rule breaking versus public endangerment and government-allowed mass death, the sticking point seems to be the idea of “the rule.” The idea of “not being allowed’’ to see family that has become ill or being able to mourn those who have passed, while he “got to” seems to be more of an issue than the fact that so many have needlessly become ill or died as a point of government neglect. In essence, the biggest impediment to feeling “normal” here seems to be being told to not see family, in a society that seems to have put a particular emphasis on physically seeing family, even if it is the best course of action to keep everyone – especially at risk family members safe. There is an entitlement to seeing who you want when you want at play here, something I think that is very much reflective of how insular some sections of society can be, not only here, with no true scale of what life is like for so many people in the world as a matter of normalcy.
I remember when I knew that we were different growing up. It wasn’t because some other child said something about the way I looked or asked if I was really an American (though those things, of course, both happened more than once). It was when every year around major holidays and school breaks, kids would come back from school, and they would talk about not just vacations, but vacations with aunts and uncles, seeing their cousins, and spending time with grandparents – and how much that access to face-to-face time with extended family was taken for granted. Learning to counter questions like “is your grandma dead” because that was the only rational some people could settle on for why we weren’t off to the grandparents’ house at Christmas or Easter was an early lesson. But like many other students whose parents might have chosen to live in the US from somewhere else, seeing grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles every year simply was not a given. But that never meant we weren’t close to them.
Every birthday, every holiday, meant calls from relatives around the globe – they would be very quick, especially before Reliance and other global services were a thing – but nevertheless, it is how I met and developed relationships with aunts and uncles and cousins, with my grandparents and their generation of siblings. I met my grandfather once in my life, but I nevertheless felt incredibly close to him. That in-person meeting was reinforced by conversations, the interest he took in me from afar. When I was able to see my grandmother in person again a couple winters ago, well, it had been 23 years apart. And yet, the familial closeness remains. My family is far from unique; we’re simply global, like many other families who find themselves in that position by either choice or circumstances. We span continents; we have learned that there is no distance that cannot be bridged. We know that sometimes when you leave, you end up being gone far longer than you meant to; it doesn’t change the fact that the family bonds are still there. And also, as much as wants might play into anything – wanting to go home, wanting to see and hug the people who mean most to you – well, want has nothing to do with what is right for all.
My biggest fear is that, in pursuing a degree in another country and getting married there too, I’ll have left my home for longer than I intended simply because it is not so simple to just fly back and forth between the US and the UK right now. Forgetting the logistics of it – the ethics of it are far too much to bear. There has been no question since January, as our wedding RSVPs started arriving, that our wants and our plans would be completely secondary to the global situation. Our lives and our families are global. It was no longer a balancing act of easiest places for the most people to fly into taking into account various levels of xenophobia versus approval to enter the country. It was a deadly calculus; do we wait and risk old age and circumstance meaning that some of our most dear cannot be part of the celebration, or do we risk holding a global super-spreader event that would likely cost our loved ones their health, if not their lives. Framed that way, there was not even a question, or even multiple courses of actions. Personal wants, whatever we think our ‘freedoms’ might be or what we feel entitled to as a ‘normal’ course of action, need to be put aside when such wants and entitlements put other people at risk, no matter how odd the times or how disruptive they might feel. To do anything to try to rush past this fact, for the sake of personal wants, is nothing short of selfish, nothing short of lacking awareness of what kind of hells so many others have gone through and what they have sacrificed.
Unprecedented is a word that gets thrown around a lot right now. And it is not really accurate – its not accurate at all actually. It simply is the easy way of sidestepping the phrase “things like this aren’t meant to happen to people like ‘us.’” Despite SARS, MERS, H1N1, and Ebola all happening in recent memory, despite refugee crisis upon crisis, natural disasters, worsening impacts from climate change, and so many other ills, on top of the ‘normal’ postcolonial phenomenon of people risking everything and moving across countries with no idea of when they might see their families again in search of a better chance, some people have no concept of separation, of the difference between a ‘want’ and an entitlement. It gets wrapped up in what multiple experts in recent weeks have referred to as a ‘childish’ conceptualization of freedom, to be sure, but also, in a very odd cultural construction where rule following is about the image of following the rules, while also internalizing a feeling that this is done out of one’s good graces, but really, they don’t have to do what they are doing.
Entitlements are all about exceptions – all the reasons why draconian rules should not apply to an individual. It’s not about what someone is allowed to do but rather, the ways in which they have the the ‘right’ or ‘freedom’ to be above the rules, because of who they are inherently. When something that seems like an intrinsic part of life is suddenly limited, of course it is difficult to bear. But in those moments there is a choice: we can either dig our heels in and challenge the forces that we see as impeding our ‘rights’, or we can embrace the opportunity to consider what other peoples’ lives might be like. The bitter truth is that in this modern world, more people have to leave their loved ones behind – live, love, die and mourn without being ever able to be near them – than get to hold both their futures and their pasts. This is a chance to reflect on the fact that what is normal for some, is not really, the ‘normal’ for all. This is not to say that isolation is easy, or that the new world of pandemics that probably could have been prepared for is something that doesn’t require significant adjustment. It is to say, however, that the obsession with rule following versus a personal understanding of a duty to communities in difficult time is something, quite frankly, that a lot of people need to grapple a little harder with before bemoaning the length of current lockdowns in envy of those who are openly breaking them.
Isolation is hard; I merely struggle with the situation I have known my entire life, worrying if I have accidentally left another branch of my family in a way that I will not be with them for many more years than planned. But I’m a third-culture kid who grew up in a global family before internet-tech made these relationships easier to bear: I have the tools to survive that. It is downright painful for so many friends and acquaintances who are in epicenters, who are without other humans in their households, who are without their friends and found-families and have been without them for months. And I watch as these friends and acquaintances screech their anguish into various voids, and then in the same breath reiterate their same commitment to bearing the loneliness for the good of their societies. I have the tools to handle prolonged isolation from family, like every immigrant does, like every child of immigrants does. And this is not specific to immigrants; this is a skill that can be developed with acceptance that the world you live in is different from the way you might think it should have been. Entitlement, however, is insisting that you don’t have to learn to use the skill, because you’re not like those people who do have to, who have to build different networks, and get by with different, made and found families – and then without them too – every day. Entitlement is focusing on the rules, and who broke them, and who gets to do so with impunity, who gets to lie about it, and how unfair that is, without looking at the bigger picture. One day I’ll hug my family again. One day I’ll go home, and friends will no longer be completely alone in their spaces and we’ll feel a little better about breathing fresh air together. But until then, there will be phone calls and video chats, texts and snail mail, and I will also keep thinking about the next country I might just be calling myself an immigrant in, and continuing the pattern of distant closeness without the entitlement to being family-in-person, but being a family nonetheless.
* the breaking lockdown multiple times fiasco, not any of the other ones — I know, it is hard to keep track
Even before we all had to start taking measures against the spread of COVID-19, I pretty much worked from home full-time. As much as I enjoy working in various libraries and cafes, it is not always feasible for me given that my research can sometimes require watching films side by side multiple times a day. It’s not really quiet work, involving things like listening to clips of scores as loud as possible to isolate instrumentation. So, I find myself for the most part working from my apartment where I have all the things I need, but sometimes, not a lot of company. Graduate work, whether masters or PhD level research work, can be an intensely isolating process that becomes especially compounded if you work primarily from home. However, after three years of building my little media-infused work bubble, I’ve come up with some things that help me maintain focus, break up the monotony and develop healthy work habits.
NB — a lot of this advice was written pre-isolation measures becoming a necessity. I’ve made caveats where necessary, but anything involving being in public, or meeting other people, well, use your best judgement in the service of public good and public health. However, noting that this period might also make working from home a lot more normalized post-pandemic — and there WILL be a post-pandemic world with a new normal, I am still making note of things like, going outside and having real human connections, which will become more and more important as we build a new reality.
Have a distinct work space — if you can
This one is a little tricky as everyone is encouraged to work from home and not everyone has their own space, but, if you can manage having distinct areas for work for all the people in your shared space who might now find themselves cooped up, it will make a difference. For example, when my partner was still commuting to London, my work/writing space was in a separate room from the main living area so that I could close the door and keep writing while he had room to decompress in the evenings, and I did anything movie-related during the day while he was at the office. We’ve flipped things around now so that he has a space to shut the door and take conference calls, and I’m perfectly happy bouncing between the couch, the desk and the dining table (it’s where the snacks are) without having to worry about my noise ruining his work.
Have distinct start, stop, and break times
Structure is really important because working in the same place that you live the rest of your life in means that it can be hard to not feel like you should always be working. But it can also very easily feel impossible to start work because you’re surround by all the other work of daily life. This is a mistake in both ways. Treating your research like a job, with designated break times, and a designated stopping point, can help make the day contained, manageable, and more productive. Tracking time can help — whether via software like Toggl or just on a sticky note the way I do.
Take Breaks Shame-Free
I’ve worked in offices proofing audiobooks, writing articles, editing copy, and doing a hundred other things, and I’ve freelanced from my own workspaces at home across many jobs. I can tell you one thing, whether working at home or from an office no one can work an arbitrary working day without some sort of breaks built in. So, if you can go outside take a walk (maintaining appropriate distancing techniques), call a relative, meet someone for coffee (do this digitally in these days), visit that college you’re a part of but might not spend a lot of time at and just pootle around (when we’re not in the time of a global pandemic of course) — but feel free to step away without any shame of “not working”.
Don’t take your work to bed
This is less about screens and sleep habits, or where you work (though personally, I have had to bar myself from working out of my bed because I won’t sleep if I do), and more about making sure to leave some buffer time between when you work and when you sleep. A bit of space for your brain to decompress, do something else, and get ready to rest. If meditation works for you, great, or reading something off-topic. Personally, I like to watch cartoons or fashion design, house design, or baking shows before bed to wind down — so long as it is nothing that I can incorporate into my current work.
Cultivate a hobby or two
Sometimes the biggest problem with academic work is that we don’t get the validation of being “done”. We don’t get to finish discrete completable tasks on the day to day, and it can be hard to figure out if we are making progress at all. When I’m stuck, that is when I step away and bake something, or cook something. I also started knitting and crochet again. There is a satisfaction in looking at a completed project, which can help mitigate the stress of carrying long term work projects to completion. Also, my hobbies in particular are activities that consume my attention — and the use of my hands, meaning that I have to be absorbed in what I’m doing for the amount of time I’m doing it.
Have “days off”
Somewhere in my second year I decided I was just going to build in days where I went to London to DO SOMETHING different. I would bring something to read on the train, but then go see an exhibition, or visit somewhere I’d never been. While this time to study feels very limited, it is a unique period in life where it is possible to be flexible with how we use our time and explore things. Though leaving Cambridge, if you’re still here, might be less feasible at the moment, there are a ton of museums who are putting their works and exhibits online. There are also a lot of places like the Met Opera and other production companies putting opera and musical performances online, so even if you can’t GO to the theatre, you can take a theatre trip. Be creative, get friends to all watch the same movie marathon together, or try Zoom-based fitness class. Find a bunch of at-home science experiments for kids and make a day of it (mentos in the soda bottle is never not great, if incredibly sticky). Have an at-home spa day. Options are endless.
Exercise is neither punishment nor reward
Anyone else decide they can go for that jog or hit the gym only if they hit a certain word count or finish a certain number of tasks? I am currently working to deprogram that sort of thinking in my own thought processes, scheduling how I work around what I do to take care of myself. For me, this means, yoga, walks, classes, etc get scheduled first, and then I plan how I’m going to execute my work around that. It’s a work in progress; it’s hard to not feel guilty about stepping away, but even after making this shift for three weeks I can see the positive effects it has had for me. With the switch to more indoor time, this has meant finding digital solutions for the time being, and even investing in a couple of yoga and pilates DVDs (and not feeling guilty about making using them a priority).
Eat! Snack!
“Food is fuel” is a phrase more associated perhaps with athletics, but your brain needs energy to run, also. Find an eating plan that works for you — maybe you like three squares and nothing in between, or maybe you’re more of a grazer. But most of all, do not forget to eat.
Hydrate
Water is life. Coffee does not count. Tea does not count. (The jury is out on wine and G&Ts and assorted delights.) But seriously, a hydrated brain and body is a happy brain and body. It’s so easy to forget to do it, but maybe keep a water bottle by you even if you’re working from home. It is how I keep track of how much I am drinking. Also, I’ve become very competitive with myself in terms of tracking my daily water intake in the fitbit app. If water is boring on its own, try having some cut citrus fruits or cucumber on hand, and drop some in the glass or bottle.
Find a working method that works for you
If you’ve gone to any of the FERSA writing or working groups, you might have come across different time management methods for productive work. Pomodoro is a very popular one in group settings because of the off-and-on break structure and how it divides time into manageable chunks. For other people, a daily word count goal or a to-do list might work better. Find a system that works for you and make it a habit.
Be proactive about seeing people and getting OUT (so to speak)
The most important thing I’ve found about working from home, is leaving it. Even if I’m not necessarily going to meet someone for something specific, just getting out into the world, where other people are, helps to lend some perspective to the work process. It’s easy to forget that even as academics we are people, and people need the presence of other people. We need society, even if we walk alone among it. Now, this might be a little bit harder in the days of quarantines and self-isolation, but it’s still possible. We’re all talking about zoom for teaching — what about setting up a Google Hangouts coffee/tea date with friends, or even an evening happy hour. The Chrome extension Netflix Party lets you sync up with friends to have movie nights or binge-watch all of Project Runway together remotely. The social distancing phase does still allow for being outside — take a walk in the fresh air (while maintaining a healthy distance away from others).
Working from a home office has its benefits, and is currently definitely a necessity for those of us who can do it, but it definitely requires its strategies to maintain healthy habits. Hopefully some of my habits can be of help if you find yourself a little lost in setting up a home-working routine. Do you have any other tips about how to manage working from home? Please share them on Twitter, @anjirbaguette and @fersacambridge using the hashtag #FERSAWFH.
Michelle Anya Anjirbag is a 3rd year PhD at the Faculty of Education, and a co-editor of the FERSA blog. Her dissertation is on depictions and constructions of diversity in fairy tale adaptations by Disney, but sometimes also writes about the intersection of fantasy, magic, and institutions. Her work has appeared in Social Sciences, Jeunesse, and Adaptation. You can find her on twitter @anjirbaguette (she really likes bread), or instagram @michelle_anya