Talking about challenges when everyone is struggling

–All jobs canceled due to the coronavirus

The challenges I’m facing (the current lull in jobs and financial difficulties) have been difficult to talk about. It’s been hard to admit my struggles when I just recently chose the path of freelancing. And so many people are facing much greater obstacles. Still, opening up about my situation has been rewarding.

Freelancing by Choice

My career has basically come to a standstill. When I voluntarily left my previous job three months ago, this was not at all what I had in mind. 

I’d been working towards independence for a long time. As much as I enjoyed my full-time job at a nonprofit that helps strengthen U.S.-Japan relations, I’d always wanted to try freelance interpreting. With the generous support of bosses and colleagues, for about four years, I used my vacation days to interpret. I tried to build savings and a portfolio–and courage. There never was a point where I could confidently say “now is the time,” and I kept extending my own timeline and financial goals. But eventually, the lack of rest started to take a physical toll, and I reached a mental tipping point. So I finally took the plunge at the end of last year and became a full-time freelancer. 

Things were great in the beginning. Thanks to the kindness of interpreting mentors and colleagues, clients I’d previously worked with, and fellow freelancers who guided me through this new lifestyle, it looked as if I could make ends meet. In early January, it didn’t even occur to me that the faraway coronavirus would affect my work.

A Cascade of Cancellations

The first sign came in late January. An interpreting assignment I was supposed to do in mid-February was canceled–it was a multilateral meeting that included China. But as the virus took hold, first in Japan and then in the United States, cancellations continued. Two in March. Three in April. One in May. And on and on. Included in this was a high-level meeting that would’ve been the biggest interpreting assignment I’d ever had–a great opportunity that I was devastated to lose. A few assignments, thankfully, were postponed rather than cancelled, but it’s hard to count on them when things are so uncertain.

Soon, I had nothing. My calendar was suddenly empty. I felt incredibly lucky that I could continue to do some translation work for the nonprofit I used to belong to. But this was a hard lesson on the instability of freelance work. 

I turned to other things, like the monthly column I’ve been writing for Sakura Shimbun, a Japanese community paper here in DC. Then, days after I submitted my column for March, I learned that the newspaper had to suspend publication. Due to dwindling ads, a lot of local newspapers around the country have suffered–and Sakura was no exception. 

Mental Well-being

There’s been a lot of talk about how to take care of our physical health. In recent weeks, there’s been a lot of articles on how to take care of our mental well-being, too. 

In my last column for Sakura Shimbun before it was suspended, I wrote about how reaching out to and helping others might in turn help us feel better during this challenging time. It was partially a reminder to myself, as well as a message of gratitude to friends who reached out to me. 

In one of the paragraphs, I wrote: “People who live alone and can no longer see friends and colleagues, as well as those who have lost jobs, may be having a difficult time. If they seem to hesitate to share their feelings over emails or text messages, you could propose to have a phone date with them.”

That part was about me. Because honestly, it hasn’t been easy to be truthful. In written exchanges, I tended to edit out the negatives and tried to sound positive. I was embarrassed about my terrible timing of going independent. How shameless could I be to turn to former colleagues, who kindly supported me in my decision to leave only months ago, and ask for work? After announcing so proudly (as nervous and fearful as I was inside) that I’m going to try this new lifestyle and getting the blessing of so many people, I couldn’t complain. It was my choice to become a freelancer. 

And so many others are going through much bigger challenges–like those in medicine and health, as well as those who lost full-time jobs. I am also very lucky because I am only responsible for my own livelihood. I have so much respect for those who are supporting family members through this difficult time. And my heart aches to think about the bosses who must tell their employees that their business has to be suspended. 

Living Alone

But one thing I can say is that living alone is tough. I’ve always felt lonely because my family is in Japan. When the coronavirus caused the borders to close between my two home countries, I cried a little. Both the symbolic implications of it–however temporary it was–and the inability to travel was heartbreaking. I’ve always had the choice to visit if I wanted to–and now more than ever, I am sad to be apart from my parents and my boyfriend, who are halfway around the world. 

I tell my parents I’m worried about them. But in reality, I’m the one who wants to run and hug them, with the childish desire to feel protected. While borders were still open, they offered that I could stay with them in Tokyo for the time being–but in the few days that I hesitated for various reasons, including the concern that I might bring the virus to them, I lost the opportunity.

Nights are lonelier. When the spring sun sets, birds stop chirping, and darkness takes hold, I start to worry. It’s not just the fear of getting very sick and possibly having to go to the hospital on my own. The reality is that I won’t have interpreting work for months, especially as a relative newcomer in the field. And even when the social distancing measures are over, I may have less work because clients are also having financial difficulties. Gig workers are only now being considered for unemployment benefits, which I may not be eligible for because I just started. The stimulus check is based on my income last year, when I had a higher salary. Thinking about these things keeps me up at night, even though I know that I need sleep for my health.

I’m looking for new opportunities in the meantime. And I know now’s the time to write, which is one of the reasons I chose to become a freelancer. But it’s been hard to be creative when reality is more dystopian than fiction. Articles like these, which help relieve the pressure that we need to make the best use of our time now, have helped. And I realized that, before I could work on any happy stories, I first needed to get my thoughts on the virus out–as in this post. 

Collaboration Rather Than Division

Until now, public health to me was mostly a concept–I reaped the benefits of mandatory vaccines and diseases that were put out before my time, but it was never something I considered in my everyday life. But now, not only every government decision, but everything that comes out of leaders’ mouths affect us physically and emotionally. My greatest passion in life has always been to connect my two home countries, and seeing all countries effectively shut their borders makes me very sad. Even some states are implementing quarantines to those from other states–and while it can’t be helped because the infections need to be controlled, this fear of any outsider is a worrisome mentality. The animosity between certain American and Chinese leaders has been concerning, too. This common problem that the entire world is facing should unite us and serve as a time for collaboration, not blaming.

Recently, the rhetoric on masks has been changing in the U.S., and many more are wearing them. While I’ve never been a fan of masks, I am relieved that people are more accepting of it. I hadn’t worn them in the U.S. until now because I was afraid of sticking out. Seeing reports of what’s happening to many Asian Americans, I didn’t want to be a target of slurs or physical violence. Yes, the way the Chinese government initially sought to hide this disease is terrible, and we’ve seen how numbers are underreported even now. But the people of China–and people of Asian descent throughout the world–are as much victims as everyone else. If anything, the situation is worse for those who have to be afraid because of what they look like. I suspect people who discriminate know that deep down, and that the way they act is more a manifestation of their own anger and insecurity regarding job losses, financial instability, physical and mental health–and above all, an intense panic in losing control over their own lives. I hope they realize that this fear is something that grips us all right now, regardless of where or who we are.   

Gaining Support

It took me a while to accept that maybe it was ok to ask others for emotional support. I had always been honest about all this with my parents and boyfriend, who check in with me regularly as they see the numbers rapidly climb in the U.S., and have selflessly sent care packages when they found items that are also scarce in Japan. But I also decided to open up to friends who had reached out to me, and write to others that I hadn’t seen in a while.

Everyone responded so kindly. I’ve had calls with my middle school friends in Idaho and LA, as well as friends and former colleagues in DC. I talked about my situation at my now-virtual Meetup group, as well as with friends from grad school who now live in Tokyo, New York, and Vancouver. Each person has their own difficulties, such as parenting while working from home. I am grateful that, while this challenge has stopped us from seeing friends and family in person, it allows us to build stronger bonds with those who live faraway. It takes courage to be vulnerable, but it’s always worth it. 

I’m writing this today in hopes that it might pay forward the support I received, and cheer up others who are also living alone. Or others who have a hard time opening up about challenges when everyone else is also going through a trying time. I know we’ll get through this, even if it’s not as quickly as we’d like.