By Janine James
When I asked my date what he did for a living, he said, “I’m essentially an engineer.” Then, after a beat, “I focus on various internal projects…you wouldn’t understand.”
“So…basically a product manager?” I replied.
He was taken aback. “Oh, you know what that is?”
Needless to say, the conversation withered and died, and he was removed from my short list of dating prospects. Tech is to the Bay Area as movies are to Los Angeles — most of the people you encounter are in “the industry.” And as the tech industry grows, so do perceptions of those who are left out of it or choose not to be in it.
Was the pay good? Absolutely. Were the perks everything one could dream of? Yep. However, the cocktail of a skewed work/life balance and the constant beat of entitlement had begun to take a toll.
I was in high tech for nearly six years. Just a few months after I graduated, I landed a job at a technology PR firm. I cycled through a whirlwind of fields, including public data, community management and social media management. I had a good run, but after about the fifth year, I began to experience burnout. Was the pay good? Absolutely. Were the perks everything one could dream of? Yep. However, the cocktail of a skewed work/life balance and the constant beat of entitlement had begun to take a toll.
After leaving tech, I utilized my aesthetician license and began working full-time as a speed waxer (and part-time writer). Even after telling my story, many of my aesthetics clients are dazzled by the fact that I used to work in tech, almost perplexed as to why I would consider leaving. The misconceptions pile up: often, there is an insinuation that service workers are either in school or lack the skill set to get a “real job.” I know aestheticians with MBAs from Ivy League schools and baristas working on their PhDs. And just because someone does not work in the technology sector does not necessarily mean they live with 10 roommates.
“Techsplaining” can be absolutely maddening, particularly if it is unwarranted (yes, I know our salon’s website is dated and could use a facelift, but that is not my call as an employee to make). Just because I don’t work in the tech field anymore doesn’t mean I’m at a loss when it comes to how technology operates. Working in Silicon Valley is not a prerequisite to knowing how to code, build a website or manage a computer.
As an aesthetician, another question I get a lot is, “So is this your only job?” This seems like a polite way of asking, “How are you able to have your own apartment without roommates, waxing vaginas all day?” The answer: just the same as everyone else in the Bay Area — I get by. Regardless of your professional field, the cost of living in the Bay Area is exceptionally high. I live within my means and, thankfully, moved into my Oakland apartment in 2010 before Oakland was considered a trendy place to live.
Chances are your non-tech friends probably share a similar lifestyle and probably make a lot more than you could imagine. Just because the lot of us do not have disposable income doesn’t mean we’re uneducated, uncultured or below the industry. There are hundreds of individuals who thrive in workspaces that are not in a traditional office setting; after all, you can’t outsource most blue-collar jobs.
So next time you’re ordering your an almond-milk latte with extra foam or getting your hair highlighted, just remember: we’re not paupers who retire to gopher holes at the end of the night. And I’ll try my best not to stereotype you as an oblivious full-stack engineer who pays $6,000 for a shoebox studio in the Tenderloin.
