I SENT my first text to a mate while the sledgehammer news was still being delivered.
My boss was in the process of telling me I wasn’t one of the five sports journalists remaining at my former organisation, amid the COVID-19-inflicted horror year that was 2020.
We all had to reapply for our position and I started preparing for the worst after my interview, with the tone of it making pretty clear what was on the horizon for me.
But nothing prepares you for the reality. I walked out of my bedroom, where the Zoom call took place, and told my wife I’d been made redundant.
She’s a primary school teacher and was working from home on that September day. Our two kids, four and two, were there, too – but too young to understand.
My wife went back to work as the news sunk in. My blissfully unaware children wanted to play hide and seek and were laughing, typically boisterous and playfully jumping all over me.
After a while of this, I had to duck away. I found a spot in the house where no one could find me and just sat quietly in the dark.
Shortly afterwards, I tweeted about losing my job, to at least have some control of the situation. The support was overwhelming and, once I was ready, I spent hours replying to as many people as possible.
My career as a sports journalist means so much to me. Some who know me well might argue it’s too big a part of my life. It’s a significant chunk of my self-esteem.
The decision to tweet the news meant it was public. The Herald Sun included my name, as well as one of my other colleagues who tweeted about his redundancy, in an article the next day.
That meant people outside of my online Twitter bubble started to find out. I let calls from friends go to voicemail.
I hadn’t told some of them, because I didn’t want to talk about it.
Part of that was because I was embarrassed. Would they think I was bad at my job? Would they pity me?
Those first few days were tough. I felt worthless and walked around the house almost lifeless and without offering many words to my family. I stayed up late, but kept to myself, where possible.
My immediate concern was my journalism career was over. The media industry is experiencing as challenging times as ever, from the transition to online to the COVID steaming turd on top.
I don’t remember when, or the moment, I started pulling my sulky self together, but it was about three days afterwards.
Maybe I finally realised I wasn’t alone in losing my job, at my workplace or elsewhere. There were others suffering far more from the coronavirus fallout, including those who lost their lives or were grieving loved ones.
An ABC article in October stated there were 360,000 fewer jobs in Australia than a year earlier, with almost one million people unemployed and a further 1.5 million on the Government’s JobKeeper subsidy.
I started working the phones and my emails on the hunt for work opportunities, and had a few people reach out wanting to speak to me.
There were also some journalism peers who went above and beyond in my time of need – and I’ll never forget that.
Inkl was part of that, with the ability to offer freelance and out-of-work journalists, such as myself, a chance to keep writing, under a mutually beneficial model.
I did some other bits and pieces as well to make some money; writing articles for different organisations, a media release for a new book and hosting a podcast.
I’ve since also been able to pick up three months of full-time media work, with no guarantees beyond that.
It’s hard to describe what that feeling was like, even though it’s a short-term arrangement.
Luke Gavin, one of the many fellow Australians forced to find a new way to pay the bills, did it for me: “It’s funny what getting a job does for your mindset … in what has been a hellish year.”
There is still significant uncertainty in my future, but I’m one of the lucky ones, so hopefully my situation can serve as some hope for others.
Try not to wallow in your own misery – or at least not for too long – and make your own luck, because if we learned anything from this year, it’s that we’re less in control than we think.
Good luck.
Marc McGowan is an experienced sports journalist who’s covered Australian Football and tennis at the highest level. Now a freelancer, he worked most recently for AFL.com.au and has been published in The Herald Sun, The NT News, The Daily Telegraph, The Courier-Mail, The Australian and Australian Tennis Magazine. Marc completed an Honours degree in Communications from Monash University and has won awards for his feature writing.
Support quality journalism.
As an inkl member you can directly support the work of journalists like Marc McGowan, while also getting access to 100+ publications like Foreign Affairs, The Independent, The Economist, Financial Times and Bloomberg.
As part of our commitment to building a sustainable future for journalism, a portion of your monthly inkl membership fee will go directly to Marc for as long as you remain a subscriber.
BECOME A MEMBER
