Opinion: The sharing economy stunk for Generation Z and millennials like me


I'm 32 years old and haven't worked a “real” (full-time) job since I was 23 and finished my two-year commitment to Teach for America. Since 2013, I have combined part-time jobs including private tutor, substitute teacher, fitness instructor, storytime program leader, and freelance writer.

For my generation, this trajectory is not unusual: 45% of all freelancers are millennials, and nearly half of all working millennials are freelancers. Now, with a resume that reads like a warning from a 2010s economist, I'm running into the problems of part-time employment as the norm.

In 2013, after two years teaching seventh grade writing, I decided to apply to master's programs and accepted my first part-time jobs as a tutor and substitute teacher. At the time I did not see myself as “underemployed,” a feared condition that parents, economists, and journalists warned against (and later applied to almost 20% of millennials). I took the LSAT and considered following in my mother's footsteps into law school. But, like many of my colleagues looking for satisfactory workI finally chose to pursue my dream of being a writer. I was still on one of my parents' health insurance thanks to Obamacare, I had saved money while living at home during my time with Teach for America, and I knew I could continue working part-time while in school full-time to earn my Master's degree in creative writing.

At this point, I began teaching fitness classes in addition to tutoring. Touching still felt normal and harmless. I wasn't even deterred when I received my first notice from the IRS that I owed the government more taxes, unaware of the costs of being self-employed. I regretted my quarterly payment to the IRS, but I readjusted it. I even felt responsible when I made my first very small contribution to a tax-deductible IRA (which I could only afford because I was still living at home). At age 24, not having paid leave, a 401k plan, or the stability that comes with a salary felt normal, especially among most of my friends who were also in grad school.

But a year later, I became the primary caregiver. The advantages of flexibility and control of acting became necessities when my mother was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. Working several part-time jobs was the only way to take care of her, continue studying, and earn money. I helped her with daily tasks at home, managed her treatment schedule, and attended all doctor's appointments, chemotherapy treatments, scans, and procedures.

That was only possible because I made my own schedule. I could teach a Pure Barre class at 5 or 6 a.m. (sometimes both), take my mom to chemo for her eight-hour infusion at 8 a.m., tutor in the afternoons, and complete my studies in the afternoons. nights.

During this period I married my husband, so I switched to his health insurance before I turned 26, taking advantage of the benefits he received with his full-time job at a large company because I didn't have any yet. Shortly after I got pregnant. To maintain some income, I resumed tutoring just a few weeks after my daughter was born, but at that point postpartum I still couldn't exercise, let alone teach a fitness class. So my two part-time jobs were reduced to one.

At the same time, my mother's health deteriorated rapidly. I was caught between caring for a baby, being there for my mom, and working with my students, caught between the broken care options in the U.S. Even after my mom died and my attention turned to my baby, it was difficult. balance my mother's life. care and work, especially without a grandparent regularly present to help mitigate the cost of a babysitter or fill in when one canceled. Once my daughter started preschool, it complicated our schedules with sick daysearly afternoon departures, school holidays and summer holidays.

If my 20 years were proof of the strength of our country unsustainable workforce model and child and elder care crises, the pandemic showed how quickly those issues could upend lives. In March 2020, my daughter's preschool closed and I gave birth to my son. Like too many millennial women, I was forced to leave work completely to take care of them. It was more than two years before he was able to get another part-time job as a freelance writer.

By then, I was too grateful for a job to complain about the empty foundations that supported my job: the inconsistency, the low and slow wages, the instability, and the lack of benefits. Instead, I continued freelancing and occasionally returned to tutoring. I also found a part-time job working as the “story time lady” at my local bookstore, where at least I knew I would receive a regular, albeit small, check every other Friday.

Financially, I need a higher, regular salary and the benefits that come with a full-time salaried job. But it's hard to find a good job, and if I get one, I don't know how I'll balance it with my responsibilities as a mother of young children in a country where women like me often serve as a social safety net. — the caregivers of the sick, the main parents of the children. Although I love my life, I wish I didn't have multiple part-time jobs. I wish our home life didn't depend on me having the flexibility to take care of small, urgent needs all the time.

Last year, 64 million people (4 million more than the previous year) worked as self-employed workers in the informal economy. When 38% of our workforce is in this situation (and contributes more than $1.27 trillion in annual income to the economy), the country has a responsibility to make that work more sustainable. Our peer countries have done it providing extensive support to workers, such as family care leave, parental leave (including guaranteed paid maternity leave), pension credits for caregivers, sick leave and paid vacations; some are offering or considering Income protections for self-employed workers..

On Tuesday, the The Department of Labor issued a rule that companies have to treat some workers as employees, not independent contractors, based on new criteria intended to ensure that people receive adequate compensation. While it's a step forward, it's not enough (and you'll likely face lawsuits). Our country needs much bigger changes to make participation in the gig economy a viable, long-term option rather than the all-consuming sinkhole that I'm not sure I can ever escape.

Sarah Hunter Simanson is a Memphis-based freelance writer who received her MFA from Vermont College of Fine Arts and is working on her first novel. @sarahsimanson



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