"Devour Feculence"

(The best phrase from "Severance" thus far as I confront AGEISM)

I am enmeshed in my anger. More so now than possibly ever, even more so than when I was in my twenties and confounded by my existence as a desk bitch, wondering if I would ever get beyond typing memos and being at the mercy of my boss-at-the-time(s) mood swings.

This anger is a reverberance. It is mighty. It is a superpower, really.

To be here, to be searching for a job, to be dismissed, ignored, rejected. To recognize how qualified I am, to be passed over for someone less qualified but with whiter teeth.

To reckon with my reality, that belongs to me, but is shared with me by so many women confronting ageism too. So many of us in our forties, contemplating injectables. So many of us in our fifties, coming up against it for the first time. So many of us approaching or in our sixties, contemplating the pivot, the slowing down of time itself, as bills accumulate, living within our means becomes less possible, and our bank accounts dwindling. All of it due to our not-being hired, not-being seen, not-being valued.

There are so few of us Gen-Xers who have had the same job since we were in our twenties, but they exist; I’ve interviewed with them, I’ve seen them in their habitat, their manicured wallpaper non-threatening and sophisticated, a nod to their personal success and survival. While they’re talking about their work culture, I’ll take in their comfortable lives and wonder, “How many Marcelles have you interviewed and tossed aside?”

This anger is a fuel, it is a motivator, it is a coping tool. I am sharing it with you. It will be a boon to the hopelessness. It will give you the strength to do a Snoopy Dance at the end of a long day with an empty inbox and no prospects. It will be the reminder that you are of value, you are worthy, you are among the mighty, the profound, the builders of industry; you are not alone.