Leserinnlegg: Jakten på jobb etter studiet

Injuria.no • 5. mai 2018

Red.anm: Forfatteren av leserinnlegget ønsker å være anonym, et ønske Injuria har etterkommet.

For nesten et år siden stod jeg med vitnemålet i hånda og var klar for å vise arbeidslivet hva jeg var god for. Det var snakk om at noen ikke fikk jobb før det var gått over et halvt år. Nu vel, sånn går det vel med dem, tenkte jeg i mitt stille sinn. De andre , de som ikke har strevd seg i hjel i fem år.

For å gjøre en lang historie kort; hovmod står for fall, rett og slett.

De første avslagene

Etter 5 år med hardt arbeid og alt for mange kopper med sur kaffe, skulle det vise seg at veien inn til arbeidslivet var alt annet enn en dans på lovbøker.

Allerede to uker etter at jeg var ferdig på studiet begynte pulsen å stige. Jeg hadde ennå ikke fått jobb. På sosiale medier poppet det opp med jevne mellomrom et bilde av en kaffekopp, en firmalogo og ”tilfeldigvis” en arbeidskontrakt. Mine første avslag hadde allerede tikket inn.

I løpet av sommeren fløt det ikke akkurat over av stillinger på nettet. I den varme sommersola møtte jeg tidligere medstudenter som spurte om jeg hadde fått meg jobb. ”Nei, jeg trengte litt ferie jeg, hehe, tenker å søke litt etter sommeren.”

Jeg vet ikke helt hvem jeg klarte å lure. Om det var meg selv eller dem. Kanskje ingen.

Etterhvert som bladene på trærne falt var også selvtilliten på vei i samme retning. Jeg hadde levert flere titalls søknader og fått avslag på samtlige av dem. Jeg skjønte virkelig ikke hva det var jeg gjorde galt. Karakterene viste at jeg var god nok. Jeg hadde verv av ulik tyngde, deltidsjobb helt siden jeg var 15 år og gode attester fra mine tidligere arbeidsgivere.

«Bare gi meg en jobb, for faen»

Jeg kviet meg etter hvert for å gå ut i vinterkulda før klokken bikket 16:00. Jeg ville ikke møte tidligere medstudenter, på vei til sine viktige møter. Dersom de skulle spørre hva jeg drev med for tiden, måtte svaret blitt at jeg oppnår master i både Netflix og HBO. Jeg tenkte det var best å spare seg for.

Og idet snøen la seg på bakken, gjorde jeg omtrent det samme. Jeg hadde nå kommet opp i 72 individuelt skrevne søknader til både etat, kommune, forsikringsselskap og advokatfirmaer. Det nærmet seg punktet der ”bare gi meg en jobb, for faen” ble mitt beste argument. Kanskje var jeg ikke så flink som jeg trodde.

Flere ganger kom jeg inn til intervju. Jeg tok IQ-tester, personlighetstester, utleverte mitt indre sjeleliv, og smilte til jeg ble støl i kjevemuskelen. Advokater med 5-10 års erfaring, interne søkere og seniorrådgivere dyttet meg ned fra pallen. Gang på gang.

Det hjelper ikke så mye å bli en god nummer to.

"Vi takker så mye for søknaden din.."

I omtrent samtlige av utlysningene var det krav om noe relevant erfaring. Dessverre omfattes ikke langvarig og god erfaring med å skrive jobbsøknader. Noen steder står det at nyutdannede oppfordres til å søke. Det ga meg et slags håp- kanskje det fantes noen virksomheter som ønsket meg velkommen.

Håpet slukket ganske raskt når tilbakemeldinger av denne sorten dumper ned i mailboksen:

”Vi takker så mye for søknaden din og opplyser om at stillingen nå er besatt av en med 10 års erfaring innenfor akkurat vårt felt. Du er velkommen til å søke på våre andre utlysninger.”

Nyttårsrakettene smalt i lufta og jeg var nå blitt en av dem som brukte mer enn et halvt år på å få seg jobb. Jeg var så skamfull og søkte noe trøst i offentlige søkerlister. Jeg var tydeligvis ikke den eneste. Like etter nyttår skrev jeg omtrent to søknader om dagen.

I det kalenderen viste februar, fikk jeg endelig napp.

Kjære stud. Netflix – du er god nok

Det jeg lærte av denne prosessen, skulle jeg virkelig ønske noen sa til meg da avslagene haglet inn og fylte opp innboksen:

Søknaden som ga meg jobben, var tilnærmet lik de søknadene som ga meg titalls avslag. Intervjuprosessen likeså. I ettertid har jeg forstått at det å få seg sin første jobb ikke handler om å være flink nok, eller bra nok. Det handler om timing, pågangsmot, flaks, hvem man kjenner, og for noen få utvalgte; karakterer som taler for seg selv.

Da jeg hadde fått denne jobben, kom det like etterpå flere henvendelser med forespørsel om intervju. Alt løsnet, uten at jeg har en bedre forklaring enn ren flaks og muligens en god dose intervjuerfaring.

I pur coachstil vil jeg derfor si til deg, stud. Netflix: du har vært, og er flink nok. Selv om det tar lengre tid å få jobb enn du trodde, og at du føler du ikke får som fortjent etter fem år med blod, svette og tårer. Det er lov å føle seg nedfor, men det er utrolig unødvendig. Erfaringsmessig er det få stillinger ute i sommerferien, så ikke plag deg selv med skam, utover å se den serien i reprise en sen sommerkveld.

Mvh
Advokatfullmektig

 

Av Hannah M. Behncke, Eylül Sahin and Sabrina Eriksen Zapata – ELSA Bergen, Human Rights, Researchgruppen 24. april 2025
Oppression isn’t always loud - it can be the quiet erasure of culture and language, stripping minorities of their freedom to express who they are. Language and culture are two of the most important means to keep one's identity alive. Unfortunately, many minorities face extreme repression regarding their background. The Kurdish ability to perform their culture in Turkey has been a long struggle. This is still the case today, where the Kurdish minority face backlash for speaking their language. This article will look into the Kurdish fight to protect their identity in Turkey. To gain a deeper understanding of the diverse perspectives on this issue, we interviewed a Kurdish and a Turkish citizen of Turkey about their views on the Turkish state's treatment of Kurds. Legal basis Although several international legal frameworks exist to protect minority cultures and languages, Turkey has not incorporated them into its legal system. Article 27 of the International Covenant of Civil and Political Rights explicitly states that “minorities shall not be denied the right […] to enjoy their culture, [...] or to use their own language.” However, despite ratifying the ICCPR, Turkey made a reservation excluding Article 27. Similarly, the European Charter for Regional or Minority Languages requires minority languages to be accessible in education, judicial court proceedings, and in the media. However, Turkey has not ratified this charter. Domestically, the Turkish constitution does not recognize Kurds as a minority. In fact, article 42 explicitly prohibits the “teaching of any language other than Turkish as a mother tongue to Turkish citizens”.1 As a result, the Kurdish language lacks legal protection, unlike Ladino, Greek, and Armenian, which are safeguarded under the Treaty of Lausanne (1923).2 Historical overview After the Ottoman Empire's collapse, the 1920 Treaty of Sèvres promised Kurdish autonomy, but the 1923 Treaty of Lausanne nullified it, dividing Kurdistan among Turkey, Iran, Iraq, and Syria without self-rule.3 Under Atatürk, Turkey enforced homogenization, banning Kurdish in public, closing Kurdish schools, renaming villages (1924) and forcibly relocating Kurds—even though most Kurds did not speak Turkish.4 The state criminalized Kurdish, promoted Citizen, Speak Turkish! and justified relocations as a tool to suppress identity.5 The Sheikh Sa’id Rebellion (1925), led by Kurdish nationalists and Islamists, was brutally crushed, triggering long-term conflict. Martial law and mass deportations lasted until 1939, while uprisings in Ararat (1930) and Dersim (1937–38) faced massacres, bombings, and poison gas, drawing parallels to the Armenian Genocide.6 Allegations of British support for Kurdish rebels persist, but remain debated.7 Kurdish political movements resurfaced in the 1960s and 1970s, with the Kurdish Democratic Party of Turkey (1965) and the Marxist-Leninist PKK (1978) engaging in armed resistance. Turkey designated the PKK a terrorist group in 1997, followed by the US and EU.8 Forced displacement continued, with over a million Kurds migrating between 1950 and 1980 due to state violence and poverty.9 The 1980 military coup further suppressed Kurdish politics, banning education (1982) and publications (Law No. 2932, 1983).10 Despite lifting the language ban in 1991, Kurdish broadcasting remained illegal until 2002. From 1984 to 1999, Turkey destroyed 4,000 Kurdish villages, displaced three million people, and killed tens of thousands in its campaign against Kurdish insurgency.11 The 1991 language bill allowed limited private Kurdish use, but public use remained restricted. Some progress followed in the 21st century, including Kurdish-language broadcasts (2004), a state-run TV channel (2009), and Kurdish as an optional school subject (2012), though full linguistic and cultural rights remain elusive. Oral storytelling (Dengbêj) persisted despite restrictions. Between 2013 and 2015, Turkey’s peace talks with the PKK, involving Abdullah Öcalan, PKK commanders, and pro-Kurdish HDP intermediaries, collapsed—renewing conflict in southeastern Turkey.12 Arbitrary arrests, imprisonment, torture, and land dispossession persist, as security forces often fail to distinguish civilians from PKK members.13 How is the situation today? An estimated 12–20 million Kurds live in Turkey, making up approximately 14–23% of the country's population. The wide range in estimates is due to the absence of ethnicity-related data in official statistics and the social and political stigma that may lead some to conceal their identity.14 As Kurds originate from various countries, most today identify with the state in which they reside. Surveys suggest that many Kurds feel a strong sense of discrimination. Only 28% believe they are treated equally to ethnic Turks, while 58% report experiencing discrimination. Some have even been denied medical services and housing due to their ethnicity.15 To better understand these challenges, we spoke with a Kurdish individual from Elbistan, Turkey, who spent most of his life there before relocating. When asked if he had ever felt pressure speaking Kurdish in public, he recalled visits to public institutions where his family, unable to speak Turkish, had to use Kurdish, but were not allowed to. “It always made us feel fear and anxiety”, he said. He also described restrictions on Kurdish culture: “Whenever we listened to Kurdish music or played traditional games outside, we knew we were being watched. Some of my friends were even detained just for playing games with Kurdish music. It felt like our culture was a crime.” In contrast, a Turkish conservative nationalist offered a different perspective. While personally holding nationalist views, he answered the questions in general terms, arguing that Kurds are integrated into society and do not face systemic barriers. When asked if there was tension between Turks and Kurds in daily life, he dismissed the idea: “Generalizing Turkey’s sociology is difficult, but I don’t see any real barrier. I have Kurdish friends and colleagues, and background doesn’t matter to us. In cities like Istanbul, people aren’t judged based on race, religion, language, or culture.” Even though he acknowledged past discrimination, he viewed it as a historical issue rather than an ongoing one. While the two perspectives differ, they reflect broader discussions on the extent of cultural and linguistic inclusion in Turkey. Surveys suggest that many Kurds report experiencing discrimination, while some view Kurdish cultural expression as unrestricted. The extent to which Kurdish identity is freely expressed - or whether challenges remain - continues to be a subject of debate. The survival of Kurdish culture in Turkey In a survey conducted regarding Kurdish identity, only 30% of Kurds reported their Kurdish language skills to be “good”, and of this 30%, only 44% of them reported that their children had the same strong language skills.16 This suggests that it is harder for each passing generation to maintain and teach the Kurdish language. So how has the oppression impacted Kurdish ability to maintain their language? According to the latter interviewee “Kurdish is spoken openly, cultural traditions are practiced, and there are Kurdish-language newspapers and TV channels”. Media As mentioned above, the Turkish government continuously violates the “freedom of expression”. In 2021, Turkey was the country with most cases regarding violation to “freedom of expression” before the European Court of Human Rights.17 Regarding Kurdish media, there has been a consistent crackdown on Kurdish media platforms. There has also been consistent imprisonment of journalists either writing in Kurdish or regarding Kurdish repression. For instance, Nedim Turfent was sentenced to 8 years imprisonment in 2017 for covering the clashes between the Turkish army and the PKK. In his sentence, he was charged with “membership of a terrorist organization”.18 Education The Educational accessibility to teaching Kurdish has improved in the years. Students in cities with a high population of Kurds, can choose Kurdish as a subject in primary- and secondary school. In addition, some state level universities offer Kurdish programs. However, these educational means have been greatly criticized by Kurdish activists, in regard to the government lowering the quality of education by not supplying enough teachers and appropriate materials needed for the classes.19 Final remarks Language is not just a means of communication; it embodies history, culture, and identity. The Kurdish struggle for linguistic freedom in Turkey is a fight for existence, where legal barriers and social stigmas persist despite claims of progress. While the government insists on inclusivity, Kurdish activists highlight ongoing repression, and for many, fear and anxiety remain. The future of Kurdish identity depends not just on legal reforms but on broader acceptance within Turkish society. Whether true equality is within reach - or remains a distant hope - ultimately depends on who you ask.
Av Injuria 24. april 2025
I denne utgaven: Nordtveit, Ernst - " Rettar til nausttomt " - 1982